Page 1 of Her Secret Santa

Chapter One

CLARA

The world comes into horrible clarity with the sound of dishes clattering against the tile.

The tray in Mina’s hands tips off balance and crashes down to the ground, food and shards of cheap ceramic splattering across the kitchen floor. A gasp flies from my mouth, frustration and exhaustion overwhelming me as I stammer out apologies.

“Mina, I’msosorry, I didn’t see you,” I say, already bending down to clean up the mess.

She crosses her arms over her chest, rolling her bright green eyes at me with a sneer. It takes everything in me to bite my tongue and stop myself from reminding her, for the millionth time, to warn someone when she’s walking behind them on the line. I’m too worn out to be polite about it, so it’s best to just keep my mouth shut.

“You really need to be more careful,” she says sharply. “Now I have an entire table’s worth of food I have to rush.”

My eye twitches in annoyance, and I bend my head further down in an attempt to hide it, letting loose strands of my white blond hair fall forward out of its ponytail to cover my face. Thankfully, before I have a chance to go off on her, my manager comes bustling through the kitchen door.

I spring up from the floor, my hands full of glass and food. He looks at me with annoyance as he grabs a broom leaning on the wall and thrusts it toward one of the other waiters. My cheeks immediately flare with heat, and I blink fast to keep my tears at bay. I’m not usually this emotional, but this is the third double I’ve worked this week, and with Thanksgiving just around the corner, it’s been so busy I’ve barely had time to go visit my grandmother. I’m at my breaking point.

“What happened in here?” Mr. Folt demands gruffly, the manager on duty at Lucky’s, his bushy brows furrowing.

“I’m so sorry, I?—”

“She wasn’t paying attention and she knocked my whole tray over,” Mina all but whines over me, as if I’m the only one who needs to pay attention

My head whips to the side to shoot her an absolutely betrayed look. She doesn’t like me, even if I have no cluewhy, but she’s almost never this outright spiteful. Maybe she’s just as tired as I am, I tell myself.

“Carla, you need to keep alert in the kitchen,” Mr. Folt snaps, rubbing his brow with a sigh. “I can’t keep having this conversation with you.”

I grit my teeth to stop from explaining what actually happened, forcing myself to nod bashfully. It’s not worth an argument, especially not right now. The fact that he can’t even be bothered to get my name right is just salt in the wound.

“Behind!” Jesse calls, a server coming right for us.

Mina stands in the only path clear of food and broken plates, but she doesn’t budge as he walks closer, balancing a tray ofdrinks. I try to step out of the way and give Jesse some space to get by without having to step over the food still on the floor. He shoots me a grateful look, skirting the edge of the mess.

“I’ve been trying to make things easy…” Mr. Folt starts talking again, turning his attention back to me, but Jesse seems to think Mr. Folt is addressing him. He hesitates in just the wrong spot, and in slow motion, he loses his balance.

I watch in horror as Jesse squeaks in surprise, before the tray tips over, soda and tea spraying everywhere. It arcs through the air and drenches me, syrupy sweet liquid soaking straight through my apron and dousing my hair. I splutter as I try to wipe the mess away from my face, immediately making sure Jesse didn’t fall. A sigh of relief falls from my lips when I see him rebalancing himself on the prep table, his eyes wide and apologetic.

“Shit!” he yelps. “I’m so sorry, Clara, are you ok?”

“Enough!” Mr. Folt’s voice is loud enough that the entire kitchen goes silent in response, everyone freezing at his tone. “Car—Clara. Give me your apron.”

My fingers tremble as I tug at the ties, fear and uncertainty coursing through my veins. He’s asking for it because it’s ruined, right? He’s not…

I refuse to even think about the possibility as I hand him the sopping piece of fabric. He rakes his eyes over me, sighing and shaking his head.

“Go home.”

I swallow uneasily, my heart pounding in my chest.

“I’ll come right back after I change and shower,” I promise.

“No,” he says firmly. “You’re fired. I’ve had enough of your mistakes. I’ll mail you your last check.”

Panic sears through me like fire, and my own breath chokes me before I babble out pleas.

“Wait, Mr. Folt, I—I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I’ll do better, please, I’ve worked here for four months, you—please don’t just fire me!”

He shoots me a bored look, his eyes flat and uncaring. Mina giggles into her hand behind him, and Jesse stares between the three of us, looking absolutely horrified. If I leave, he’s going to be their new punching bag, and I can’t let that happen.

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