Page 60 of Merry Little Hate Notes

I nudged him with my shoulder to nonverbally tell him I loved the note. It made me wish my sticky notes were easily accessible, even though Brandon was making me fulfill the singing betimmediately after we completed our gingerbread house. I was trying to hate him for it but was failing miserably. In fact, I wanted to write him a note back that said,Hear my soul speak: you rock my Christmas socks.I would have to remember that one for later.

Camille yelled, “You have one hour. Starting now!”

That was my cue to pull up the picture on my phone of the design I had drawn over the weekend. No more messing around—we were going to win this one.

Brandon chuckled. “I don’t think we have time to build this mini-mansion.”

“That’s not the can-do attitude I need from you right now. I hear things in the bathroom,” I mumbled almost inaudibly. “Believe me, we need the mansion.”

From the way Brandon’s brows rose, I could tell he thought I’d lost my mind. “Your bathroom scares me.”

“As it should. Now enough talking. Let’s do this.”

He saluted me, making me laugh. We were so going to be office gossip. Would it be so bad if everyone knew Brandon and I were together? I mean, I would have to clear the Katherine Heigl thing up first, which meant he would probably win Mistletoe Manness. Things I would have to worry about later. I was in this to win it.

“First, we need to score the graham crackers. Just do what I do.”

We both grabbed a serrated knife. I wasn’t sure Jane should have access to knives at work—who knew what she had in store for today?

Brandon and I meticulously cut out our pieces.

“I wish they’d have let me bring my hot glue gun for this.” I’d asked on Friday, but Camille nixed that idea. “We’ll have to make do with the frosting.”

Brandon pressed his lips together, trying not to smile. His adoring gaze, though, was what worried me. Hiding our attraction was apparently a hopeless cause. It made me wonder if our past would come to light too. What would people think if they found out about my once-charmed life?

“I have every confidence you’ll make it work,” Brandon cheered me on.

I dipped my plastic knife into the bowl of frosting, careful to getjust the right amount on it, when a notification from my work email address popped up on my phone. “Brandon,” I stuttered. “I think Blake Vanderbilt finally responded.” My heart raced with excitement and trepidation. She held my Monica Geller life in her hands. “Take the knife.” I had to know what she said.

Brandon dutifully took the knife and leaned closer to me, just as eager to read her email.

I opened my work email app and clicked on Blake’s message while holding my breath.

Holly, I apologize for not getting back to you sooner. I wanted to vet all my options before I signed with Elevate. After doing more research, I’m not sure Elevate is the best fit for Artemis. With that said, I think you are the perfect fit for Artemis. I’d love to chat with you about some opportunities we have available here. Feel free to call me on my personal cell. I look forward to speaking with you.

My stupid eyes began to water. I did my best to blink back the tears, but they meant business.

“Holly, it’s okay,” Brandon said for my ears only. “We win some, we lose some.”

“Why do I always feel like I lose?” Emotion rippled through every word, making my voice crack.

Brandon reached for me, but halfway through remembered we weren’t alone. “Let’s go talk.”

I shook my head, fearing what people would think if they saw us leave together while I was clearly emotional. “Let’s just get through this, and then I’m going to go home.”

“I’ll drive you,” Brandon offered.

“Thank you, but I think I just want to be alone.” I needed time to process and probably make charts in my head. Chart 218 was already laughing in my face. It had warned me about the scary side of magic.

“Holly, I promise this isn’t the end of your dream. We have several irons in the fire.”

I wasn’t counting on any of them. I felt numb, and maybe even stupid, for daring to dream again. Not wanting to sound dramatic, I just nodded, counting down the minutes until this team-building exercise was over and I could go home to sulk and eat cookie dough.Unfortunately, it meant I couldn’t bring my A game to the gingerbread house—I just tried my hardest not to cry.

Brandon sweetly did his best to see my creation through, but it was a hopeless cause. No way we were going to win. Even Jane and Gerald’s gruesome offering looked better than ours. Jane had used graham crackers to make a startlingly realistic Krampus tongue. I think Gerald had given up and just let Jane do her thing. It was probably in his best interest.

“Hey,” Brandon said softly. “Don’t worry about this. We’ll get them tomorrow during Christmas card making. You can sing your song after that.” He grinned.

I’d forgotten about our bet. “Thanks,” I said half-heartedly, although I appreciated him trying to make me feel better. I just felt so sucker punched.

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