Eee-er, Eee-er, Eee-er, Eee-er!
“Jingle all the way!”
Though a lighted faux pine wreath on the door, a tiny Christmas tree on the dresser, and a battery operated candle on the bathroom vanity made the posh but monochromatic taupe Boston hotel room almost festive, it wasn’t quite enough to lift Warwick’s mood.
“Bah, humbug!”
A fitting mood, he thought, seeing he and Ebeneezer were both Brits and both cursed.
“How could it be gone?” Flat out, all alone on the massive bed, Warwick talked to himself and sulked. If there was ever any doubt he and his love life had been jinxed almost as soon as there was hope for love again, that hope and doubt were both now erased. Seven musical notes and a yellow scarf, those were the signs, the very tent poles to Warwick and Dom creating a life together.
