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Giving a satisfied smirk, Mere leans back in her seat. “Look, I know you’re upset about Ivy and I being gone for Christmas.”
“That’s not it.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
I’m tempted to tell Mere everything that’s going on, but I can’t quite bring myself to do it. I know she already feels bad enough about leaving me only a few days before Christmas. Especially with Ivy gone on her mystery trip. There’s no way I’m going to make her feel even worse by telling her that the promotion I’ve been working so hard to get is going to be handed to my boss’s son.
My boss’s son who, despite being a big blip in my plans for the future, is way too easy on the eyes. I shift uncomfortably in my car seat remembering the way his dark brown eyes had the power to make every inch of my body heat up under his stare.
Which… is great. Exactly what I need at the moment. Merry freaking Christmas to me.
“It’s just something with the work party,” I make up.
Mere nods in understanding. “Don’t worry. Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll make it work. You’re too stubborn to let it be anything but perfection.”
“Gee, thanks.” I roll my eyes. “Anyway, enough about that. Do you have your bridesmaid’s dress?”
“Yep.”
“And a change of underwear?”
She opens her mouth, but quickly clamps it shut. Her brow knits together, and I grit my teeth even tighter. How could someone not remember whether or not they packed underwear before jetting off halfway across the country?
Instantly, my foul mood vanishes, and I have to bite back a laugh.
“I’m sure I packed some,” she says a little too defensively.
“Let’s hope so.” I pull up in front of the departures terminal and put the car in park. “Because you have a flight to catch. If you need anything—”
“I know.” She covers one of my hands on the steering wheel. “I’ll call. You can do the same for me.”
I release the steering wheel and throw an arm around Mere. “Have a good trip.”
“I will.” She squeezes me back. “Now, try to have a little fun while I’m gone.”
That’s not likely, but I keep the thought to myself. “I hope you find your underwear.”
* * *
Unfortunately, my premonition of what awaits me once I get to Noble Outerwear is proven true. As per Mr. Noble’s request, his son spends the day trailing me while I introduce him to people and explain what everyone is working on.
Never sparing anyone so much as a smile, he asks short, nosey questions that would piss me off if they weren’t so astute.
Even though he’s stealing my promotion out from under me, I try to make small talk with him. It doesn’t work. Instead, he keeps staring at me intently. It’s almost as if he’s picking me apart to find all of my flaws so he can use them against me to secure the promotion.
He even turned down my offer to bring him a peppermint mocha back from the coffee shop. I mean, seriously? What kind of person frowns when you offer him a cup of deliciousness?
It appears someone else is lacking in Christmas spirit this year, too.
By the time I get home that evening, I have a splitting headache and a desperate need for some spiked eggnog. I may be over Christmas this year, but it would be a waste to let the cartons I’ve already bought go bad.
This is the same mindset I have when I stay up half the night stress-baking copious amounts of sugar cookies. They’re my mom’s recipe and baking them makes me feel closer to her. At the same time, it makes me miss her and my sisters all the more. So it’s a double-edged sword.
By 2 a.m., I’ve baked and decorated several dozen, going so far as to plate them for sharing at the office, I feel more in control of my emotions. I’m still anxious about what the future holds for me once I get to the office. But at least I’m armed with a bunch of cookies.
A bunch of cookies I’m precariously balancing in my arms as I walk from the parking garage to the office building later that morning.
“Is it January yet?” I mumble when I catch myself before tripping and spilling my delicious cargo.
