Page 20 of Merry Little Hate Notes

I got it, I wasn’t a supermodel. No doubt he’d dated dozens of them. Maybe he was even dating a dozen now. What a pig.

I resisted the urge to retaliate. I was going to be the better person. It was one month of my life and then he would go back to Charlotte, and hopefully I would finally get to be Monica Geller. And I would find my Chandler Bing, who would love my frosty, Grinchy face.

I crumpled up the stupid note and tossed it in the trash just in time for the yahoo to witness it. My hands were so shaky I could barely log on to my laptop. I wanted so badly to tell him off. But even more, I didn’t want him to know he could still hurt me. And it did hurt—because once upon a time, I’d thought he found me beautiful.

“Is Jason bothering you?” Brandon whispered like a faux big brother.

I spat out a sardonic laugh. “How ironic. He asked me the same thing about you this morning.”

“And what did you tell him?” Brandon was awfully curious.

I shrugged, leaving him in suspense.

Brandon wouldn’t let it go and slid closer to me, engulfing me in his perfect blend of cedarwood and sage. He should give Jason lessons on how to use cologne. “Do I bother you?”

I typed in my password, refusing to look at him. I wouldn’t want to offend him with my face. “What do you think?”

He chuckled as if I amused him. “Do you like Jason?”

I squinted at him, wondering if he was for real. Why would he care? Unfortunately, the squinting didn’t make him any less attractive. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I could never take a man seriously who saysmerry little sticky notes.”

“You think Jason gave you the sticky notes?” He sounded astonished by this.

“Pretty sure. Anyway, let’s keep our communication to work subjects only.”

“Jason is a coworker; therefore, this is a work subject.”

He said it so smugly, I wanted to tell him he could go SANTA-tize himself. Ooh, I would have to save that one in case I fell off the wagon and went sticky note crazy. Look at me, thinking Christmassy again. I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing. Brandon was awakening things he had no right to.

Thankfully, Camille appeared and kept me safe from a life of hate notes. “Everyone, gather around. I have an announcement.”

Every account executive and BDR on the floor gathered near the rock-climbing wall. We all stood in a semicircle, waiting for our leader to enlighten us with this so-called announcement. I had to wonder why she didn’t just post it in Slack or send an email. But I guess that’s why I didn’t make the big bucks. Well, at least not yet. I was going to close that Artemis account if it was the last thing I did.

Brandon couldn’t leave well enough alone and stood near me, which meant his fan club clustered nearby. Trish, Krista, and Jordan, the women heading up Mistletoe Manness, were the most obvious in their admiration for him. Their eyes lit up whenever he was near, and their toothy smiles sparkled and tinged. Their voices even softened and turned to silk whenever they spoke to him. If only they knew what a jerk he was. Although it probably wouldn’t matter—it was amazing what a pretty face could get away with. If that guy inFifty Shades of Greyhadn’t been attractive and rich, I’m pretty sure he’d be in jail.

“I just met with the executive team, and for the month of December, we will focus on team-building exercises.”

A low hum of disapproval went through the group. I said nothing,but I bet my resting Grinch face came out. Or was that my November face? It was hard to keep track of these things.

Camille plastered on the sternest of looks and scanned the crowd with her steely eyes, silencing any naysayers. “As I was saying,” she snipped. “Starting December first, everyone will take part in a daily holiday-themed exercise.”

Holiday themed? Was this a joke? I muddled through the holiday season—I didn’t participate in it. Thanksgiving’s early arrival on the twenty-third of the month made this year worse, extending the holiday season by a week.

“To make the exercise more fun, each sales team will pair every account executive with their business development rep. Prizes will be awarded to the winning team each day.”

What?!I shouted in my head. “Whose bright idea was this?” I grumbled under my breath. Satan’s?

Surprisingly, Satan himself answered. “I have an idea who.”

“Who?” I couldn’t help but ask Brandon. I needed a name. Whomever they were, I was going to tell Bathroom Jane they were the ones stealing the puzzle pieces and let her have at them. She was scary.

“My wingman,” Brandon mumbled.

Did he say hiswingman? That made zero sense. Not that I didn’t believe he had a wingman—he probably employed one full-time. Oh, the hubris of the man. Well, I was hunting down this mystery guy, and he was going to pay.

Camille excitedly announced the first exercise. “Friday is Ugly Christmas Sweater Day. Partners, feel free to match or just be creative. Each member of the winning team will receive a fifty-dollar Amazon gift card.”

They could keep their gift cards. No way was I buying matching ugly Christmas sweaters with Brandon. Especially since he’d made huge fun of me when I was fourteen and had an ugly-Christmas-sweater-making party. Yeah, I was cool like that.

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