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CHAPTER1
Lacey
Christmas cheer myass.
Nothing screamsholiday seasonlike watching Angela Ramos, my work nemesis, smile and wave to the crowd, pageant style, before graciously receiving more praise for all the work I’ve done.
My colleagues, new and old, lap up Angela’s fake-as-sugarplum-dreams gratitude, as if this room doesn’t contain the brightest and the best of the FBI.
I plaster a too-fake grin on my own face and clap politely along with the others.
All my hard work fighting for a promotion, for some kind of fucking recognition after everything I’ve given to my team over the years, and yet, there she is. Miss Perfect. How she does it, I’ll never know.
She gets the glory, the good jobs, you name it. I’m halfway convinced she’s sleeping with someone to get to the top. She certainly flirts with the boss often enough.
“You’re going to have to wipe the pucker off your lips, or people are going to know exactly how you feel about her.” My work husband and bestie, Wesley Pearce, elbows me none-too-gently in the side. “Work on the face, Matthews. That’s an order.”
I elbow him right back, but his handsome face doesn’t crack. He barely breathes differently.
Wes is the kind of guy people automatically take seriously because he looks like fricken Ryan Gosling on his worst day—all American, boy-next-door, guy in charge kind of looks.
“Everyone knows this isnotthe most wonderful time of the year for me,” I reply, jerking my nose toward Angela Ramos, with her perfect blonde hair and pixie features. Work nemesis. Bitch.
“That’s what people say when they hate the holidays and want everyone else to be miserable too.” Wes crosses his arms over his chest and stares at Angela, but his face holds none of the disdain I know we both feel for her. “In fact, it’s exactly what aGrinchwould say. You sure it’s her that’s getting you down or is it fact that you haven’t spoken to your mom in years?”
Wes knows more about me than anyone else in this building, and I still have to work to hide my slight flinch at his truth bomb as it slaps me across the face. He understands how I get as soon as autumn trails into winter. Once the last of the leaves drop from the trees and the days turn chilly and bright with sharp sun and sharper winds, my mood flips on its head.
“If you’re feeling badly about yourself, then you’re welcome to come home with me and Alison.” He offers me a bland smile.
“And ruin the honeymoon phase?”
My work husband is newly married. I even went to his wedding. He and I rose up the ranks together, and we make a great team, but that doesn’t mean I want to interrupt the newlyweds on their first Christmas together.
I mimic his posture as I turn, scanning him slowly from top to bottom. It’s a struggle, considering he’s over six foot and I top the charts at a whopping two inches over five feet. All my life, people have underestimated me based on my short stature and young face. It’s a curse that has followed me into the agency, too.
Except Wes. He’s never judged—well, except my hatred of the holidays.
“What are you trying to say?” I ask. “You think I can’t handle being alone? Hard pass on the invite, but thanks.”
“I’m trying to say you’re being a bigger pain than usual. If you’re not careful, Angela is going to come over here and talk to you, just because she knows it will bother you.” He bites down on a laugh.
“Am I amusing to you?” I gawk at him. “Wow, Wes.”
The impromptu meeting at the tail end of our work party, the one giving all glory to Angela, ends as quickly as it began. The others start to disperse back into their individual groups as Wes shakes his head, his dirty blonde hair falling across his face, hiding the amusement in his eyes.
He takes a step away and jerks his head so I’ll follow him. To my great displeasure, the second I take a step in his direction, the devil herself appears at my elbow.
“Lacey.” Angela wraps me up in one of those overly perfumed hugs where her arms barely touch my body and her fingers are the barest brush on my shoulders. “Merry Christmas. You look beautiful tonight.”
“Yeah, thanks, Angela.”
“Do you have any big plans for the holidays?”
“To get roaring drunk and set a Christmas tree on fire.”
She laughs, the sound like a choir of bells, her head tipped back. Oh, she thinks I’m joking. How funny.
“Good job on your last assignment.” I clench my teeth; there is nowayI’m telling her she deserves it. “Let’s hope you can close your next case as quickly as this one.”
