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I don’t like her tone. I never like her tone, but I like it even less when she uses it with Clementine.
“Clementine Clarkson,” she chirps, holding out her hand for my mother to shake.
My mom looks at her hand, then at Clementine, her eyes scanning her outfit and noting everything she hates. I know that look, and I don’t want Clementine to experience it.
Before I can step in, my mother returns her attention to me without acknowledging Clementine’s outstretched hand. “The party. Who’s your date?”
“How do you know about the party? I only found out yesterday,” I groan, plopping into my chair. If I’m going to fight with my mother, I can at least be cushioned by expensive Italian leather.
“I have my ways,” she says mysteriously.
Something tells me those ways include getting rather close with my board members. My stomach churns at the thought. I make a mental note to find out who and have them removed from any position of power.
“I don’t have a date, and I’m not looking for one,” I tell her as I turn on my computer and start replying to emails. Maybe if I ignore her, she’ll go away. It’s never worked before, but hey, ‘tis the season for Christmas miracles, right?
As my mother launches into a monologue about the family legacy, I look around the room for Clementine. She hasn’t said anything for a few minutes, which isn’t like her. She’s not here, and for some reason, my stomach drops. It makes no sense. Wasn’t I trying to get rid of her?
“Are you listening, Kingsley?”
“I try not to,” I mumble.
She doesn’t hear me and continues her rant.
As my mom scolds me for still being single and not attempting to look for a partner, my thoughts turn to Clementine. Where is she? Will she get in trouble for not having my input on something?
More importantly,why the hell do I care?
4
CLEMENTINE
“Can you hold the door for me, plea–”
The giant glass door of the King’s Holdings building slams shut in my face, and I stop short, narrowly avoiding a disaster. The two drink caddies I’m holding shift slightly, but I manage to hold onto them. Thank Sweet Baby Jesus for that. The morning has already been rough enough without spilling a hundred ounces of hot chocolate on myself.
I didn’t sleep at all last night or the night before. My upstairs neighbors are out of school for the semester and have decided to use every second they aren’t in class to party. I knocked on their door and politely asked them to turn down the music last night, but everyone laughed and booed me. When a red Solo cup half-filled with stale beer hit me in the side of the head, I gave up and went back down to my couch to cry until the sun came up.
I’m exhausted and cranky, but I don’t let any of that show.
“I swear, some people need to learn some manners,” comes the now-familiar voice of Chester, one of the security guards I’ve gotten to know over the past two weeks since working with Kingsley.
“Maybe they didn’t hear me,” I say as the older man jogs up to the door and opens it for me. I manage a smile, though it feels a little forced today. “Thank you.”
The ache in my chest from missing my grandma is particularly painful this morning. I guess without enough sleep, it’s harder to separate my grief from my professional life. But I need to shove all that down and do my job. It’s not Chester’s fault my grandma is dead and my neighbors are jerks.
“Always trying to see the good in people,” Chester replies with a kind smile. “Don’t let this city take that away from you.”
“I won’t,” I promise.
“You know what? I believe you, Clementine. You haven’t let Mr. Bowman break your holiday spirit yet.”
“And I never will. In fact, I think I may be the one to break him out of his grumpy attitude,” I tell him once we’re both inside.
Chester follows me to the elevator bank and scans his key card for the executive elevator straight to Kingsley’s office. Technically, I’m not allowed to use it, but whenever Chester is around, he ensures I have a primo ride up to the top.
“That Scrooge?” the security guard questions with a disbelieving smirk.
“Even Scrooge came to his senses in the end,” I remind him. “It just took a little bit to get him there.”
