Page 25 of Merry Little Hate Notes

I felt dazed too. For a moment, I’d been able to grasp my dream again.

“I have to go,” she said breathlessly while pointing toward the door, then ran out, leaving all her things behind.

As soon as the door shut, Mom cockily asked, “Now who is the best wingman?” She and Dad high-fived again. “Did you see that?” Mom was so proud of herself. “She wants him.”

I shook my head, wishing but unable to believe her. And the last thing I wanted was to fuel Mom’s wingman fire.

“Your mom’s right,” Dad agreed. “Now go close the biggest deal of your life.”

“I’m on it.”

“I’m not talking about Artemis.” Dad winked.

“What happened to you two?” I pointed between them, feeling like I hardly recognized my own parents.

Mom snuggled against Dad. “We just want to see you and Holly happy.”

I wanted that too—especially Holly’s happiness. I was just afraid she would never find it with me.

HOLLY

I KEPT SNEAKING GLANCES AT Brandon from the passenger seat of his Land Rover that still had the new-car smell. It was early Monday morning, and the sun had yet to creep over the horizon as we headed toward Aspen. To say I was questioning all my life choices that had led me to this particular moment was an understatement. I knew riding with him made the most sense, seeing as it would seem odd if we showed up separately to such a remote appointment. Not to mention my car needed new tires and wouldn’t traverse the mountain terrain very well this time of year. And let’s not forget I’d spent most of my weekend thinking about Brandon’s hand on the curve of my waist Friday. Yeah ... that.

His touch felt like a magical spark plug, and I hated it. I mean, I’d quite enjoyed it—which is why I hated it. It was so wrong to feel such a buzz from someone who hated you and had broken your heart. Lauren’s words didn’t help the situation any. She was right, just like my dad, about running away from people and memories—it was no way to live life. And I had to believe my brother wouldn’t have wanted this kind of life for me either. But surely he wouldn’t expect me to make nice with Brandon after he’d kissed me on a dare and then ghosted me. Although ... Christian seemed to forgive him easilyenough for making a fool out of me, so perhaps this was exactly what Christian would want.

And ... maybe Brandon wasn’t as evil as I first presumed. On Friday he’d been more than kind, walking me through how to deliver a good presentation. He helped me practice ways of talking to Blake and not at her, and how to be enthusiastic about our product instead of preachy. Brandon had reminded me to smile and even complimented me on it. On the other hand, he could just really like money, and I was standing between him and a big payout. He had left me another note that said,You’re so Kringle-worthy in that sweater.

Yeah, well, if he thought he was looking like some Don Juan in his, he was mistaken. Not to say he didn’t look amazing. So amazing, he was giving Jesse Coulter, the marketing director whom every woman in the office fantasized about, a run for his money in Mistletoe Manness. Which I was sadly missing today in the bathroom, along with the weekend’s developments with Rita, Amy, and Joel. Did Amy give Joel another chance? Did Rita take revenge on Amy like she said she would if that went down? Inquiring minds needed to know. Well, really just my mind.

I also needed to find out whose bright idea it was to bring holiday cheer to the office. Whomever Brandon’s wingman was, he was going to pay dearly when Jane discovered his identity. Oh yeah, she was on the hunt, as the missing-puzzle-piece case was losing leads. Jane hated anything that brought people joy, so she wanted to crush the culprit who’d dared to introduce a hefty dose of holiday cheer into the office. She’d worn a black sweater as a form of protest on Friday. Her account executive was none too happy about it.

Admittedly, it was kind of fun to see all the ridiculous sweaters. And it’s not like I could refuse to participate after Lauren and Bertram guilted me into it with all their “you are our A team” and “we need you” talk. No doubt Lauren had spent some serious cash on the matching ugly Christmas sweaters. And I do mean ugly. My younger self would have loved it. This version of me wanted to as well, but fear overwhelmed her.

Just like my fear now as I watched tiny specks of snow hit Brandon’s windshield as we traveled up the I-70 corridor, wending ourway up the mountainous highway to the Continental Divide. It wasn’t supposed to snow until tonight after we returned home—I had checked the weather forecast religiously over the weekend. Now on top of sneaking glances at the freaking fantastic-looking Brandon, all the charts in my head were screaming at me to abort my mission. But I could hear Carmen begging me to be brave and to remember we were one step closer to our Monica and Rachel dreams.

Carmen was so set on this happening, she’d loaned me some clothes and dressed me up like Business Barbie today. I hadn’t worn designer clothes in so long, it felt weird. A good weird. I liked how I looked in the sculpted plaid pantsuit that silhouetted my figure nicely. I’d even splurged and purchased some classy black heels to match.Splurged, meaning I didn’t hit up Costco or Target—instead I went crazy at DSW’s sale rack. I was living large and in charge. Except now I was terrified I might die in my pretty new shoes.

My charts kicked in and forced these words out of my mouth, even knowing I was going to sound like a nutjob, “Do you think we should reschedule with Artemis because of the snow?”

Brandon’s brow quirked as he glanced my way. “This is the only time Blake can meet with us before the holidays. Besides, it’s only a few flurries,” he said, like I’d lost my mind. Oh, he had no idea how far gone it was.

“Yes, right,” I breathed as I stared out the window, counting the snowflakes dying quick deaths on the windshield. Unfortunately, I knew what a few flurries could turn into, especially in the mountains this time of year. We are talking careening off cliffs, or worse, being stuck on the road for hours with delectable-smelling Brandon while emergency crews cleaned up dozens of accidents on the highway.

“Are you okay, Holly?” Brandon asked, sounding more than concerned.

“I’m fine,” I lied, not wanting to admit what a chart-loving worrier I had become, especially to him. I felt stupid for even suggesting we reschedule.

“Are you sure?” he wondered.

“Yes.”No. I counted ten more snowflakes in the last ten seconds than the previous ten seconds. Agh.Breathe, I begged myself.Think ofmore trips to DSW and not having to ever see Brandon again. That’s what this little joyride through a winter wonder-hell meant. Oddly, the thought of never seeing Brandon again wasn’t working its magic like I thought it would.

“I thought you loved the snow.” Brandon wouldn’t let it go.

“I have a complicated relationship with it now,” I said before I could stop myself. The girl in me wanted to spill my guts to him like I used to because he’d always had a way of making me feel better. Even when I told him Hadley Pearson had made fun of me at the age of fifteen for never having kissed a boy. Brandon made me laugh when he told me Hadley had a reputation for having an enormous tongue that frightened all the guys. Then he made me feel better when he said there was nothing wrong with saving my kisses. He said saved kisses are the best kind. And he was right, except he’d failed to mention how much they would hurt after he stole them. Or the hole he would leave in me when he removed himself from my life.

“Is it because of Christian’s accident?” Brandon whispered with a slight shake in his voice as he white-knuckled the steering wheel.

We’d never broached this subject, and I didn’t think now was a good time, seeing as we were on our way to hopefully close a life-changing deal for me. And I feared opening up to him even just a little bit. He was already unlocking too many memories, the ones I feared would swallow me whole.

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