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Luke stands from the edge of the desk and makes his way back toward his office. “I need you here until eight. So, if you want to bring Josh in to sit with you, that’s fine. Just get your work done. No more shoe shopping.” His tone is curt and aggressive.
This should be the part where I revolt against everything and storm out the door, but I know how lucky I am to be collecting the paycheck. As a single mom, I need the money. I don’t remember the last time I got a child support check and I sure as heck don’t have a support system that I can fall back on. The only option I have is to show up, do this shit job, and hope I save enough money to transition once I’ve gained a little experience… or hope that something wonderful falls from the sky.
You know, because wonderful opportunities fall from the sky so often.
“I’m going to call my sister and have her pick him up. Is that allowed?” I say sarcastically as I stare toward Mr. Mathers.
“I told you to bring him here.”
“I’m not bringing my son to this office and subjecting him to whatever grumpy bullshit you decide to sling out. He doesn’t need to see his mother being treated that way. He’ll have more fun with his cousins.” I drag in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Which brings me to Christmas. What would I have to do to get the day off? I’ll work late Christmas Eve, but I need to be there for Josh in the morning, and don’t tell me to bring him here. I’m not telling him that Santa delivered his gifts to the lodge.”
He leans back in his big leather chair and twists toward the mountains, studying the dark lit view before finally spinning back again. The man is insane, and I’ve probably just triggered an avalanche of crazy I’m not prepared to deal with. “What are you proposing?”
“I’m proposing you give me the day off because it’s the right thing to do. We’re IT. We don’t need to be here Christmas Day.”
“That’s not true. Guests will be at the lodge. If the servers go down that day, we’ll have ruined everyone’s Christmas.”
“I highly doubt the servers are going to go down on Christmas, and if by chance they did, they’d call us, and we’d come in.”
He shakes his head and sighs. “What do you want? An hour in the morning?”
“No! I want the day. I want the day to spend with my son.My small child.He deserves to be with his mother Christmas morning, don’t you think?”
“I think you should be here, at your desk, getting your work done.”
“My work is done!It’s been done.I’ve done most of next month’s work, and I dove into things you wanted started in February. It’s one day. I’ll be here early December 26 and stay late the entire week if that’s what you want. Just give me the day.”
“Your job is important. I told you holidays would be part of the deal when you started.”
“Yeah, like the Fourth of July and Labor Day, but not Christmas. You said nothing about Christmas.”
“But it’s important that you do as we agreed, so thank you. You’ll be paid triple time for the—”
“I don’t want triple pay! I want the day off.” I stand from my desk, riled up and suddenly confident that if he doesn’t give me Christmas Day off, I’ll stage my own personal strike.
He rolls his neck in a circle and scrubs his hand down over his beard. I’ve never noticed the black ink peeking from his shirt cuffs before.
Good Lord, why is that so attractive? Why does a part of me want him to stalk toward me and growl in my ear? Why do I want to see the rest of his body? Why do I want him to touch me everywhere?
Well, that’s easy… because I’m sick. That’s why. I clearly need a break from work so I can go satisfy myself and remember that men aren’t worth the trouble, especially, the tall, dark,toxicones.
“Look,” he groans, “I have a proposition.”
I glance down at my watch, letting him know that whatever he’s about to say is a waste of my time. “What?”
“If you want Christmas off, I need help with something.”
I sigh to show my displeasure. There’s always a deal to be made with him. He can’t do something simply out of the kindness of his heart. “What is it?”
“I need a date to my family’s Christmas party. If you go, I give you Christmas off.” He says the sentence as though he’s asking me to finish up on a design or code a new section of a website.
I can’t help but laugh. “What? No! I’m not… no.”
He shrugs and heads back into his office. “Suit yourself. We can have our own little celebration here over programming and cheesecake. You like cheesecake, right?”
“I don’t. I don’t like cheesecake.” My stomach turns. Maybe this is the only way out. Maybe going with him to some stupid Christmas party isn’t that big of a deal. What’s one night in the grand scheme of things? Lord knows I’ve faked it with a man before. I could do it again.
I sit back down at the office chair and stare at the computer. “I want Christmas Eve off too.”
