Page 1 of His Holiday Fate

Chapter 1

Andrew

“Time for you to go home,” my boss says in a singsong voice. I roll my eyes and spin around in my chair to give him the hairy eyeball. He chuckles, throwing a stress ball at me. “Come on, And. It’s our office’s annual holiday break. You can’t be here, man.” He’s the only weirdo that calls me And instead of Drew.

I scoff, turn back around, and make the last revisions to the book I was editing. When that’s done and my boss, Stephan, is still standing behind me, I sigh and sign off the computer.

“Fine, I’m leaving.” I stand and grab my bag and my coat, zipping it to the neck to walk into a Fair Falls winter. “Why are you still here?” I ask, angry that he won’t let me work.

We step outside into the cold evening air, and I take a deep breath. No matter how much I bitch about the cold, I love the crisp air. Stepping outside and getting a lungful always clears my head.

Stephan throws an arm around my waist—since he can’t reach my shoulders as a smaller omega— snapping me out of my thoughts. “I knew you wouldn’t leave without a push. Someone had to pull you away.”

The publishing house I work for as an editor and occasional social media correspondent closes two weeks before Christmas and we won’t come back to work until after the new year. It’s nice for people that have a family or plans, but I have neither. I have an empty house with a bunch of dead plants. Three weeks off will be hell. At least I’ll have some books to work on.

Until Stephan bursts my bubble.

“We took company access from you for these three weeks.”

I whip around to look at him, eyes wide. “You did what? Why?”

“You need a break. You work way too hard. You know we assigned you six books last month and you asked for more. No one works that much. You’ll burn yourself out.” Stephan sighs, putting a hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Look, And. You’re one of the best editors we have. I don’t want to lose you because you worked yourself into the ground. Take a break. Get some sun.” He laughs, looking around at the snow blanketing the ground. “Get some fun. Please, as a personal favor to me.” He pats me on the arm and heads to his car.

Walking backwards, he shouts, “Maybe you should take yourself on a date. Woo yourself.”

Against my better judgement, I laugh. I watch the puff of air leave my mouth as Stephan drives away, honking his horn at me. I blow out another puff, this time in exasperation. Take myself on a date. Yeah, I’m the only person willing to date me.

It’s not like there’s something wrong with me. I think I’m a catch. But I’m focused. I’m busy, I’m dedicated to my work and I don’t take shit. Most omegas like that initially, thinking I can provide for them and any kids we have, but as soon as they see just how much I love my work, they don’t take long to hit the road.

My last relationship taught me that love isn’t enough. Especially if you’re trying to climb out from being a beta reader to actually editing manuscripts and proving your worth. Being an editor isn’t demanding work, but I like to make sure my work is perfect for the authors signed to our publishing house. We’re a small house, but we pride ourselves on what we do. My pride kept me at work longer than it should have and my omega found an alpha that would give him the things I couldn’t. Like time and attention.

Kicking a pile of snow, I stomp to my car, angry with Stephan for not letting me work over the break and angry at myself for letting my ex bring my mood down more. I head home, trying to plan what to do for the next three weeks, but I come up blank. Maybe I’ll listen to what Stephan said. Maybe I’ll take myself on a date.

In spite of the snow, it doesn’t take long for me to get home, even driving more carefully than I normally would. I wish the drive were longer, so I wouldn’t be forced to spend more time than absolutely necessary in an empty house. As much as I say that I don’t mind being alone, I really do. It’s the worst. Even with my shitty ex that couldn’t keep it in his pants, coming home to a warm body was great.

Now, I have my cold sheets and table setting for one. But at least I have my pride and intact heart.

Walking inside, I toss my keys on the counter and pull out a beer. I drink it standing in front of the fridge, knowing I’ll just get another. I don’t drink much, but knowing I’ll be home alone for the next three weeks, I need some alcohol to start my vacation off right.

After finishing my first beer, I grab another and take it to the couch. I turn on the television and I’m met with Christmas movie after Christmas movie.

Ugh! I’m so sick of Christmas. It’s only a week into December and I’m ready for it to be over already. There’s nothing festive about the season. It’s the season where people sing and get drunk and do stupid shit like propose to their omegas in front of a Christmas tree with a stupid holiday hat on, just as his man tells him he’s been cheating on him for the past three months and wanted to come and get his things and was going to tell you before you got down on one knee like a fucking fool.

Oh, and to tell you he was taking the dog. Dumbass.

Scoffing, I chug my beer and put the empty bottle on the table, glaring at it while I hear festive music play from a movie that I hate on principle. My ex, Carlton, used to make us watch a holiday movie every day, starting December first. He would make popcorn, hot chocolate, and make us wear Santa hats while we watched the movies that were the same—city omega meets country alpha, and they get down and dirty in the snow and live happily ever after. Same formula, different movie.

I hate to say that I was looking forward to our last movie after my proposal, but that’s when he dropped the bomb on me. What was really fucked up about it was the fact that, the day before, he gave no indication that he was unhappy, or our relationship wasn’t solid. I was completely blindsided, not knowing what I did wrong. Until he dropped the hard truth on me.

“Drew, you haven’t paid attention to me in weeks,” he said, looking at me sadly. “Have you even noticed anything about me?” I remember looking at him long and hard, not seeing anything different, which made him scoff. “I dyed my hair. And it’s longer. I got my ears pierced.” I took in all the things he said and was ashamed that I really didn’t notice. Carlton was a brunet, but at that moment, I noticed the lightness of it and the blond highlights. His hair was usually longer on top and short at the back, but it was touching his collar then. And when he tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, I noticed his piercings.

I was absent.

He’d already had his bags packed. He said he wanted to wait until after the holidays but didn’t want to drag it out. He said all this while I was down on one knee, after pouring out my heart to him.

Palming my empty beer bottle, I cock my arm back and throw it into the empty fireplace, then curse at the mess. Lucky for me this fireplace is only for show, but it’s best I go ahead and clean it up now before I get too drunk.

Stomping into the kitchen, I grab the broom and dustpan and get busy cleaning. Unlucky for me, the way the fireplace is set up, I can’t fit my broom in there without breaking something, my nose being one of them.

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