Page 48 of Christmas With the Jerk

Thorne sits up a little straighter, a grin spreading across his face. “That’s amazing.”

“Yeah,” I say, feeling the rush of adrenaline. “It means we’ll be here at least another night, though.”

Thorne shrugs, his expression still relaxed. “I’m not exactly sad about that. Plus, I’d say there is close to a zero percent chance we would get out of here today, anyway. This way we can go ahead and try to get a flight lined up for tomorrow. Nothing like coming in hot on Christmas Eve-Eve.”

“I’m not too sad about it, either,” I admit, surprised at how true that feels. The idea of staying here a little longer with him doesn’t sound bad at all. Especially if it means we can get this done and hopefully land the account.

We exchange a look, both of us knowing that whatever happens next—whether we secure the deal or not—we’ve already crossed some invisible line. And somehow, we’re both okay with it.

EIGHTEEN

Thorne

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock / Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring.

11:25 am

The hotel lobbyhas been transformed into a kind of winter wonderland drive-in, minus the cars. The chairs and tables have been cleared away, leaving room for people to sprawl out on blankets and pillows spread across the floor. A large screen dominates one side of the room, ready for the midday feature:National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.

I can’t help but grin as I look at the setup. It’s not just any Christmas movie—this istheChristmas movie. My favorite, not just during the holidays but in general. I’ve seen it a hundred times, maybe more, and every single time, it cracks me up.

Woodley is beside me, settling onto a blanket we’ve claimed near the fireplace. The smell of popcorn and hot chocolate floatsthrough the air, and a fire crackles in the background, casting a warm glow over the room. It’s cozy, festive. The perfect setting to just relax and enjoy the afternoon.

The crowd has thinned out a little since the weather’s cleared, but there’s still a decent number of guests, all bundling up on the floor, ready for the movie. Families, couples, kids—everyone looks ready to just unwind after the storm.

Woodley hands me a steaming cup of hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream and a candy cane sticking out. “Here,” she says with a smile, settling in beside me. “Can’t watch a movie without the essentials.”

“Popcorn too,” I add, grabbing a bowl from the snack table. “And for this movie, it’s a requirement.”

She chuckles, sipping her hot chocolate. “I get the feeling you love this movie. You’re so subtle.”

I nod, a grin spreading across my face. “The best. I’m giddy, I can’t help it. Sorry if I’m being annoying.”

“Not annoying, cute,” she says glowing.

As the movie is really getting into its groove, I glance over at Woodley. She’s smiling at the screen, obviously enjoying it. Theres something about the whole scene. It’s like we’ve crossed into something new. No tension, no awkwardness—just us, sitting together, watching a holiday movie like any normal couple.

The scene where Clark’s stuck on the roof trying to put up his Christmas lights comes on, and I laugh, shaking my head. “Poor guy just wants the perfect Christmas, and everything keepsgoing to hell. I can identify. The good news is, it all works out in the end.”

Woodley grins, leaning closer to me. “Wait, don’t spoil it.”

“I didn’t tell you how…”

“Kinda like us, huh? Stuck here when everything went wrong but it hasn’t turned out so bad.”

“We still have to see how this meeting goes this afternoon before I can say definitively,” I joke as I poke her playfully.

“Where is that blind confidence from a few days ago? Of course we will land it. What did you say, we would have to shit the bed not to get it, or something like that?”

“Good point,” I laugh and lean in to kiss her. “I guess things going wrong isn’t always so bad.”

3:42pm

We stand by the door,both of us dressed and ready. I glance over at Woodley, who’s checking her reflection in the mirror one last time. Her hair is sleek and perfect, her tailored suit giving her an air of complete professionalism, even though the last few days have been anything but smooth. She’s sharp—more than ready for this meeting.

I’m adjusting my own tie when she looks over at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It’s hard to believe we’ve only been here for three days,” she says, shaking her head. “Feels like we’ve been through a lot more than that.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” I say, straightening my jacket. “We’ve survived a bomb scare, a snowstorm, two flight cancellations, and being stranded at a hotel. All for this damn meeting.”

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