Page 29 of Christmas With the Jerk

I open my mouth to argue, but he holds up a hand. “And just so you know, I don’t want to just sit around here and do nothing about this, either. There’s got to be a way to respond to the text without looking desperate but still showing that we’re ready. Maybe the three of us together can come up with something that works for everyone.”

I cross my arms, thinking. He’s right. As much as I hate it, he’s right. "I'm not opposed to that, as long as we are assertive. We are here, they are here, I want to plow ahead, pun intended, but I'm open to feeling it out instead of coming in hot and seeming a little crazy and desperate."

“What if we suggest something in between?” I say after a moment. “We could offer to do a video conference today if there is no place we can all get to in person—but still let them know we’re flexible and ready whenever they are. That way, we are assertive, put out some options, but ultimately agree we will defer if he seems hellbent on putting this off. Hell, maybe the weather will be conducive to meeting tomorrow and all of this is for naught.”

I think we both know the weather isn't getting any better between now and tomorrow. But it is a compromise. I'm trying, here.

Thorne nods slowly, considering it. “That’s reasonable. It shows we’re ready, but we’re not trying to force their hand.”

“Exactly,” I say, feeling a small sense of relief. This could work. “We don’t push, but we’re not passive either. We show them we’re adaptable, that we’re committed to getting this done, no matter what, that we are hungry, and will trudge through the snow and wind to prove it.”

He leans back in his chair, his gaze softening slightly. He clasps his hands on his chest, clearly pleased with himself.

“Alright. Let’s draft something together. We’ll need to word it carefully before we call so we have a plan of how to present it.”

I pull a sheet of paper out of my bag and a pen. As I start writing, Thorne leans in, reading over my shoulder. We go back and forth, tweaking the message, finding the right tone to strike that balance between eager and professional. It’s a push-and-pull, but for the first time, it feels like we’re on the same page, that we are hearing each other.

When we’re done, I glance at him. “So, are we good?”

He meets my eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, we’re good.”

"You want to call, or want me to? Should we go to the room for quiet or do it here?"

"Your phone and let's go back to the room. I don't want ‘Oh, Holy Night,’ to lull him into remembering that no one should be working this damn hard so close to Christmas."

It’s not exactly a peace treaty, but it’s a step. And right now, I’ll take it.

7:21am

I end the call,my heart pounding, but for the first time since this whole shitshow started, it’s not from stress, it’s from excitement. I look over at Thorne, and he’s wearing the same expression of disbelief mixed with what looks like relief.

“That went... well,” I say, barely able to keep the grin off my face. "We're doing this, Thorne!"

“Better than well,” Thorne replies, shaking his head like he’s still processing it. “I can’t believe it was Thom who suggested the video conference. I thought we were going to have to push, but it was his idea. That was my biggest worry, that he would think we weren't taking this seriously.”

I nod, feeling a mix of pride and surprise. I want to say to Thorne that I'm not so desperate, after all, but I prefer to focus on the win. It's a smart solution to keep things moving despite the storm.

Apparently, Thom has been watching the weather and figured this was the best way to get the pitch done. And he seemed just as eager to make it happen as we are. That was the part that caught me off guard. It almost feels like we already have the job.

Still, God knows I'm not going to get ahead of myself yet.

“I didn’t see that coming,” I admit, leaning back in my chair. “But I’m not complaining. We’ve got some time—are we ready? Of course we are, but, God, I’m so nervous again all of a sudden. Let’s do this!”

Thorne leans against the table, arms crossed, but there’s a lightness to him that wasn’t there before. “Yeah, and if we nail it, we’ll be out of here by three, heading to the airport, on time to make our flights.”

I glance at the clock on my phone to check the time. The meeting’s at 11:45, which gives us a solid window to prep, shower again and be ready to blow their socks off. And, still have time to get to the airport afterward.

The rush of it all—the timing, the fact that we’ve pulled this together after days of chaos—feels like a win. A big one.

“We’ll probably have to come back,” I say, grinning. “If we land the account, there’ll be meetings, follow-ups, more face time with the team. I don't think we can get this big account with only a video conference.”

Thorne chuckles, a sound I’m starting to appreciate more than it annoys me. “Yeah, but let’s worry about that after we knock this out today. And after the holidays.”

I feel the adrenaline running through me, the excitement of everything falling into place after so many setbacks. And it’s not just the win itself, it’s how we got here.

Thom’s suggestion gave us a viable path forward, but we’re the ones who’ve kept this thing alive. Thorne and I, as much as we’ve fought, we’ve worked together to make this happen. We do make a good team.

And the more I think about it, the more impressed I am with him.

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