Page 33 of Christmas With the Jerk

“What’s up?” Woodley’s voice floats in from the bathroom.

“I can’t get the Wi-Fi to connect,” I call back, trying not to let the irritation come through in my voice. I click around a few more settings, but it’s not budging. “I’m gonna call the front desk.”

Woodley steps out of the bathroom, still towel-drying her hair, looking more put-together now. She shoots me a concerned look as I pick up the room phone and dial zero.

The front desk answers after a couple of rings. “Hi, this is Thorne Chilton in room 1015,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “I’m trying to connect to the Wi-Fi, but it’s not working. Is there an issue?”

There’s a brief pause on the other end before the woman responds. “Yes, sir, we’re currently experiencing intermittent outages due to the storm. We’re doing our best to restore service, but it might take some time.”

I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Any idea how long?”

“I’m afraid I can’t give you an exact time, sir. The storm’s caused significant disruptions in the area.”

I thank her and hang up, feeling the frustration bubbling up in my chest. Of course. Just when we need everything to go smoothly, the damn storm decides to mess with the internet.

Woodley walks over, her brow furrowed. “What did they say?”

“They’re having outages. No idea when it’ll be back.”

She bites her lip, glancing at her own laptop. “Let me see if mine’s working.”

She leans over the desk, tapping a few keys on her computer, but I can tell by the look on her face that she’s getting the same result. No connection.

“Great,” she mutters. “Just great.” I can already seeing unhinged Woodley threatening to reemerge.

I’m about to respond when I hear her phone buzz from the desk. She glances down, and the color drains from her face as she swipes to read the message.

“What is it?” I ask, already knowing it’s not good based on her expression.

She takes a deep breath, her voice tight. “My flight is canceled.”

I stare at her for a second, trying to process what she’s just said. Canceled? I pull out my own phone, opening the airline app. Sure enough, there’s a notification waiting for me too.

All flights out of Boston Logan canceled until further notice.

The meeting, the flights, everything is falling apart. Just when it was within our grasp.

I stare at my phone, the canceled flight notification still glaring up at me like some kind of torture method.

As if the internet going down wasn’t bad enough, now we’re trapped in Boston with no way out and no way to get this meeting done. Perfect.

Woodley’s pacing beside me, her fingers tapping nervously against her phone. “What are we going to do?” she mutters, more to herself than to me. “We have to call Thom and let him know. Fuck!”

I rub the back of my neck, feeling the frustration build in my chest. “I’m calling him.” My voice is tight, clipped. If we don’t get this sorted soon, Thom’s going to think we’ve bailed, that we can’t handle the pressure. And that’s not happening.

I dial Thom’s number, pressing the phone to my ear. It rings. Once. Twice. No answer. I hang up and dial again. This time, I’m met with the same result. Nothing. I curse under my breath, the knot in my stomach tightening.

“He’s not picking up,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended.

Woodley stops pacing, her eyes wide with a mix of panic and frustration. “He has to know we’re not dropping the ball. If we can’t reach him, maybe he is experiencing the same issues.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I snap, more at the situation than at her. I feel her eyes on me, and I force myself to take a deep breath. “Let’s try using a hotspot. Maybe we can bypass the Wi-Fi.”

She nods quickly, already pulling out her phone. I do the same, fumbling with the settings to create a personal hotspot. For a moment, there’s a flicker of hope as I connect my laptop to the signal. But it’s short-lived. The connection drops almost instantly, and even when I try reconnecting, it won’t hold.

“No luck?” Woodley asks, glancing at me, her voice strained.

I shake my head, frustration clawing at me. “Nothing.”

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