Two Men Walk Into a Bar (At Christmastime) by Katy Regnery Read Free Book Online Page A

saying her name was enough to clear a cloudy sky.
    “Just a year for me,” said Asher, thinking of Savannah’s loveliness and how much he wished he was home with her right now.
    As if Zach could sense Asher’s encroaching melancholy, he leaned closer. “Want to know a secret?”
    Asher shrugged. “Why not?”
    The man flicked a glance at his watch. “It’s after midnight in New York. That means it’s Christmas Eve. Which also means she told me she loved me two years ago tonight.”
    Words from long ago echoed in his head: Say it again, Savannah . . .I’m falling in love with you, Asher. They were still the sweetest words. The best words. The words that had changed his whole life.
    Feeling a sudden, strong kinship with the man beside him, Asher nodded. “I’ll take the drink, Zach. On the rocks, if you don’t mind. But only if I can buy you a bourbon after.”
     
    ***
    Savannah reached for the buzzing cell phone on her bedside table, squinting up at the bright screen in her dark room: Delayed again, darlin’. Hopefully out of here by midnight. I love you.
    She sighed, letting the phone fall to her chest, where she held on to it like it was a lifeline to Asher. She did the math quickly. If it was one o’clock in the morning here in Maryland, it was ten o’clock at night in Los Angeles. He still had a two-hour wait, and even then, there were no guarantees he’d make it home in time for Christmas.
    Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Savannah sat up and scrubbed her free hand over her face, the other still clutching the phone as she stood up and walked to the window. Pushing the curtain aside, she looked out at the little yard that Asher kept immaculately trimmed. Covered in a pristine blanket of still-falling snow, she couldn’t help but admire how pretty it was, even though it was keeping her love from returning home.
    Her phone buzzed in her hand again, and she looked down, swiping at the screen. Found a friend. He drinks Scotch instead of bourbon, though. What’re you wearing?
    This time she grinned, typing back: Your use of the pronoun “he” just saved your skin. She paused before adding: Nothing.
    Giggling softly, she crossed the room and climbed back into bed, cheerfully ignoring her phone when it buzzed thrice in quick succession.
    ***
    “Anything important?” asked Zach, hanging up his own phone, which, Asher noted, looked like it had seen better days.
    Important? Affirmative. A naked Savannah was at the top of Asher’s list of important things—not that he could do anything about it from LA.
    He placed his phone facedown on top of the bar and looked up at his new friend.
    “Uh, yeah. No, not really.” He shrugged, picking up his drink and swirling the ice around. “Just, um, my wife.”
    Damn it, but she could still discombobulate him. Even from a continent away.
    Zach nodded at his own battered phone. “Yeah. That was Vile.”
    “What was vile?” asked Asher, sipping the Scotch and deciding it wasn’t half bad.
    “No. Vile is . . .” Zach grinned, his hard face looking sunny as he twirled the ring on his hand. “It’s what I call my wife. Violet.”
    Asher felt his eyebrows knit together. “And that’s not a problem?”
    Zach grinned, then laughed softly as though remembering something funny. “It was . Once upon a time. But she got over it.”
    “Sometimes I call Savannah an alien. But I’m still convinced I might be right,” confessed Asher.
    “How’d you two meet?”
    Asher took another sip of his drink, words from long ago echoing in his head. I’ve been commissioned to write a piece for a very notable national newspaper, the Phoenix Times . They want a human interest piece in time for the Fourth of July, and I thought . . . well, I wondered if Mr. Lee, that is . . .
    “She’s a journalist. Or she was . Once upon a time,” said Asher, smiling at Zach. “She showed up at my doorstep with a plate of home-baked brownies, wearing her sister’s sundress and . .