Page 64 of Merry Little Hate Notes

Her impish smile said she knew she had rendered me incompetent. “Get ready to give me a round of Santa-plause. See what I did there?”

“Clever.” I grinned.

“PS: I still hate you for making me do this.”

I leaned toward her. “I’m not buying it. Good luck.”

She wrinkled her nose at me before she pranced up to the front inher jumpsuit that quite nicely highlighted every curve she owned. She made her way toward Camille, who was standing near a large stack of boxes, getting ready to tell us all about today’s torture. Holly had spoken to Camille earlier and informed her she needed to make good on a bet. Camille was more than happy to let Holly make a fool of herself—not to say she was going to. Regardless, I was going to enjoy it.

“Before we begin, Holly is going to provide us with a little holiday entertainment,” Camille announced, using the karaoke machine’s mic.

That caught the attention of all our coworkers, who, like me, were seated in the dining area, counting down the days until all the holiday cheer at work would end.

Holly warily took the mic with her unsteady hand.

So maybe I felt bad about that, but she was the one who’d made the bet.

She glared at me before saying, “Hi, everyone,” in a pitch well above her own.

I pulled out my phone to record this for our posterity. Yes, I had every intention of marrying Holly. Not that I would tell her that anytime soon, especially not before she forgave me for the current situation.

“So, you’re probably wondering what I’m doing up here. A word of advice: Don’t make bets with the Devil. Ever,” Holly said.

All eyes in the room darted my way.

I held up my hands as if I were innocent. I wouldn’t say I was the Devil. Perhaps devilish, considering the untoward thoughts that frequently raced through my mind about her.

“Here goes nothing.” Holly let out a breath, and with a trembling hand, she pressed the button, shutting her eyes tightly, waiting for the music to start. The familiar melody of “Jingle Bells” erupted, filling the air with its lively beat, resonating throughout the common area.

Holly gave me one more deadly look before singing clearly in her warm alto voice, “Dashing through the snow in a one-horse open sleigh. O’er the fields we go, laughing all the way.”

Everyone looked around in amazement as Holly belted outperhaps the best rendition of “Jingle Bells” I’d ever heard. Our children were going to be so proud of her one day, even though she’d likely kill me if I ever shared the video with anyone.

To my surprise, several in the group started singing along. It must have surprised Holly too, as she stared dumbfounded out into the crowd, although obviously pleased. So pleased, she held out the mic to the group and let them finish the song with a resounding, “Oh, what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh!”

As soon as the song was over, the crowd erupted in an enormous round of Santa-plause. But no one clapped louder than me. Holly had me wanting to drop to one knee right there.

“Wow. That was actually good,” Camille bellowed over the group, making everyone quiet down.

Holly tiptoed back to our table, blushing but grinning.

As soon as she took her seat next to me, I leaned in and whispered, “I’d dash through the snow with you any day.”

She bit her lip. “Stop,” she playfully responded. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

That sounded like fun to me. You know, as soon as I was man enough to break her heart again. I tried not to think about it. I really wanted to win today’s exercise for Holly. It frustrated her we hadn’t won at least once.

“Today’s challenge is a take onIron Chef,” Camille announced. “You will have one hour to make a holiday dessert using the contents in the box you’re given. Each dessert must use the secret ingredient. Which is ... drumroll, please.”

Several in the crowd tapped their fingers on the tables.

“Peppermint candy!” Camille shouted above the tapping.

“Yes.” Holly pumped her fist in the air. “We so have this one in the bag.”

I felt our odds were good, considering Holly’s addiction to peppermint at this time of the year.

Eager to see what ingredients we had been given, Holly raced for our box and ran it back to our table.

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