Page 32 of Her Secret Santa

I’m really hoping something has come in, because there are only two and a half weeks left of December. Two and a half weeks before I’m officially out of a job. January is the slowest month for catering gigs, too, so I’m out of luck there.

I choke around the egg roll when my inbox loads.

Allie reaches over to thump me on the back, teasing me as I get my breathing back under control, but I can’t turn my eyes away from the email staring back at me.

The email from Hawthorne Enterprises with a subject line inviting me to interview for a position.

“Holy shit?” I whisper as I click on it.

Allie hums curiously, leaning closer to read over my shoulder, and then she chokes in surprise too.

“Holyshit!” she squeals.

We read through the email in disbelief, my hands shaking as I scroll through the message. It’s from the CEO’s personal assistant, saying they found my online portfolio and are asking me to come by for an interview on Monday. The position is a hybrid graphic design role where I’d also take on assistant duties for the CEO as necessary. It’s kind of a weird mix, but for the money they’re offering, I can do weird.

I’ve never made that much hourly in my life.

“This has to be a clerical error,” I say, shaking my head even as I read it all again. “I didn’t even apply for this. I’m notqualifiedfor this.”

“Whocares?” Allie shrieks, shaking my shoulders in excitement. “I talk about you all the time, babes, maybe something finally came down the pipeline from that Hawthorne Mall job I’ve been working!”

“Holy shit.”

I keep saying it, but it’s all my brain can come up with right now. This is the biggest opportunity I’ve ever been offered.

I’d be able to buy my own laptop. I could buy my grandmother nice new sweaters for Christmas and make sure the children’s home gets fresh ingredients for Christmas dinner. Everything that I know could change, and it could change for the better for once.

I frantically type out a reply, overthinking my words as anxiety and excitement clash. I hit send immediately after proofreading my response, a rush of relief and exhilaration flooding me. Allie squeezes me tight around my shoulders, shaking me as she babbles out thrilled congratulations.

“I’m so proud of you!” Allie squeals, hugging me tight. “Little Clara, all grown up.”

She fakes some sniffles into my shoulder, and I laugh as I clutch her back, shock and joy whirling through me. Allie wouldgive an arm and a leg for this chance, and she actually has real experience and education in the field. It feels wrong for the opportunity to come to me, but I won’t waste it.

I can’t actually give other people all of the luck that comes my way. I just have to make sure I do something good with it.

“I’ll get you in too, if I get the job,” I promise, pulling back to look her in the eyes.

“You better,” she teases, grinning at me. There’s not a trace of jealousy in her eyes, pure pride shining back at me. “Right now, though, you need to go get dressed, or you’re going to be late.”

I curse under my breath when I glance at the clock. I must have spent more time in traffic than I thought because it’s already past eight. A taxi back to Manhattan will take at least twenty minutes.

I need to get a move on.

Allie follows me into the bedroom, takeout in hand, and relaxes on the bed as I rush through a shower, taking care to keep my hair dry. As soon as I’m out and mostly dry, I frantically rifle through my makeup bag. I’ve only done it twice, but already the pattern of slicking mascara over my lashes and swiping gloss along my lips makes me feel like I’m stepping into an entirely different persona.

My hair is still slightly wavy from the braids I had it in all day, so I don’t bother doing anything with it. It’ll be a mess by the end of the night anyway.

“See what I mean?” I ask as I pull the dress from my closet.

It’s hardly more than two crisscrossing straps of lace, cutting low on my back and high on my thigh. The vee of the neck reaches all the way down to my navel when I shimmy into it. Allie lets out a low whistle of approval, raking her eyes over me as I do a little spin.

“You lookhot,” she says. “Is that Versace?”

“Is it?” I ask, immediately panicking at the thought.

I spin in search of a tag. The thought of wearing something that expensive makes me want to cringe. There’s no reason for me to be wearing a dress that probably costs as much as my rent.

“Let him spoil you!” Allie scolds, stopping my frantic attempt to figure out how much this whole outfit cost. “He’s an Elite, he can afford it. Now, grab a coat and go have fun.”