Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
“Did you put up the Christmas decorations I sent you?” she asks.
“Yes,” I lie. I shoved the boxes under the stairs at my penthouse. My place is pristine and professionally decorated, and I don’t need a bunch of cheap glittery crap cluttering everything up. I peeked into one box and it was a carving of a big ugly Santa. Why would I want a carving of an old man staring at me in my home? No, thank you.
“Put them up,” Mom says. “Christmas spirit is important. Cassie, will you make sure he does?”
“On it,” Cassie says with a grin.
“Now, why are you calling me at ten o’clock?” Mom asks in a pointed tone. “I hope it’s not for the reason I think it is because that would break my heart. I mean, how many Christmases do I have left? Five? Three? Less?”
“Mom, you’re fifty-nine and perfectly healthy.”
“You never know what’s around the corner.”
I look up at Cassie for help. She just shrugs.
I guess I just have to rip off this bandaid fast.
“Mom, I’m closing on a big deal—”
“Let me stop you right there,” she says abruptly. “You’re not canceling.”
My stomach drops.
“You’re getting into your car tomorrow morning and you’re driving back home. Got it?”
I stare at the phone in panic, trying to come up with something to say.
“Your sister is coming all the way from Hawaii to be here,” Mom says sharply. “You can drive from New York City. It’s only a six hour drive.”
A six hour drive to rural Vermont. If there’s a snowstorm it can take six days.
“And remember, you got your sister in the Secret Santa gift exchange,” she says. “So, bring something nice.”
I quickly hit the mute button. “What did you get my sister?”
“I didn’t get her anything,” Cassie says, shaking her head. “It’s Secret Santa rules that you have to buy it yourself.”
“What? Who cares?”
“I care,” she says, affronted. “I’m not breaking the Secret Santa rules!”
“And don’t try to get Cassie to buy it for you either,” Mom says like she’s reading my mind. “I already told her she’s not allowed.”
These two need to stop talking. Maybe I can write it into Cassie’s contract…
“Christmas is about giving,” Mom says. “It’s about love.”
Yeah, right. It’s about workers scamming their employers out of ten days of free vacation. It’s bullshit.
“You better leave now, the malls are going to close soon.”
“But, I…”
“I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” Mom says like it’s final. “In person.”
I drop my head and sigh. I guess I’m going to Vermont.
“And Cassie,” Mom says before hanging up. “Send him the profile of that redhead. I want grandchildren before I die.”
I drop my head onto the desk with a thunk as Cassie hangs up.
“I suggest you go to Angelica’s in the mall,” Cassie says as she hops off my desk. “They have everything there and they’re open until midnight.”
“Can you—?”
“Secret Santa rules,” she says, cutting me off. “They’re sacred.”
I stare at the cursor on my screen, wondering how all of this went so wrong. I can start two multi-billion dollar businesses from scratch, but I can’t get out of going to my parents’ house for a week. How does that make any sense?
“Better leave now,” Cassie says with a grin as she walks to the door. “Oh, and I’ll let Angie in accounting know about my very generous raise.”
I grumble as she leaves.
Christmas is the worst.
CHAPTER TWO
Jemma
“Are you shopping for someone special?” I ask the very awkward man glancing at the display of lacy underwear in front of me.
He’s a big, burly guy, but his cheeks go bright red as he glances at me and then quickly drops his eyes to the ground. “I’m… gonna… get her a blender.”
I try not to chuckle as the married man practically runs away to the appliance section of the giant store.
It’s been like this all day. The husbands are out, shopping in droves for their wives, armed with wads of cash and unlimited credit cards. I’m trying to hit my sales quota so I can get my very meager bonus, but they’re all so shy and awkward as soon as they take a look at the lingerie and silky lace underwear I’m trying to sell them.
A creepy-looking man with long, greasy hair and a dirty trench coat walks over with all the confidence in the world. He picks up a pair of lacy red underwear and stretches the waist like he’s testing it out.
“Are you shopping for your wife?” I ask as I step behind the counter, keeping it between us.
“No, it’s for my sex doll, Miranda,” he says as he looks at the price. He glances at me, but then his creepy eyes linger. I get a cold chill as he stares me down. “Are you married?”
“Yes!” I shout so fast and loud that he jerks his head back in surprise.