Page 31 of Her Secret Santa

“I don’t think I was ever his favorite, and I’m definitely not after today,” I say, unlocking my car. “I had to scold him like atoddler in front of everyone, but he whipped himself into shape after that, surprisingly.”

Allie guffaws as I bend to get into my car and start it up.

“What do you say to Chinese food as a reward for being so big and brave?”

I can’t help the smile on my face as I pull out of the parking garage and head toward my apartment. Allie always finds it amusing when I put people in their place, no matter how much I hate doing it.

“Chinese sounds fantastic. Can you bring your laptop too?” There should be enough time for her to pack everything up and grab food before I get home. “I want to check out any new job listings.”

“You got it, babes.”

We say our goodbyes and hang up, and I divert my attention entirely to the road. Snow is starting to fall—not quite enough to pile up, but enough to make a sludgy mess on the streets. Friday night traffic is always a nightmare, but it eases up the further I get from the city center. I don’t live in the most convenient part of town, but The Bronx isn’t so bad, and at least there’s a little breathing room.

Not much, of course, but you can only ask so much from New York.

Finally making it back to my apartment building, I park and gather my things before heading to the main door and then up the stairs. Allie stands right in front of my door, her backpack slung over her shoulder, a takeout bag in one hand.

“I was just about to text you,” she says. “Got your favorite.”

I groan in appreciation as I slip the key into the lock.

“You take such good care of me.”

“Anything for you,” Allie says with a wink and a chuckle.

She follows me inside, and we waste no time heading to the kitchen to tear the bag open and tuck into the containers. I putup the rest of the string lights I have, and the box of handmade ornaments my grandma and I always use to decorate the mini tree we get for the kitchen. I don’t have the money for a big tree this year, but the little one is plenty cute. It’s nice to have a bit of time to just eat and not think about anything else. The only other person I’ve ever been able to be this comfortable around has been my grandma.

And, now that I think about it, my Elite, and I don’t even know who heis. I can’t imagine relaxing so casually like this with him, but it’s so easy to forget the world exists when I’m with him.

“Any news from Eternity?” Allie asks, seemingly reading my mind. “I’ve been waiting to hear from my mystery man, but I guess he’s more the hit-it-and-quit-it type.”

I make a face at that, not liking the sadness creeping in around the corners of her eyes. She brushes it off before it has time to settle, but I can tell it’s bothering her more than she’s letting on.

“I’m sorry. That’s shitty of him.”

“It’s whatever,” she says, shrugging carelessly. “It was a fun night, I don’t need it to be more than that. Anyway, you didn’t answer my question, little miss. You got an invite back, didn’t you?”

I go bright red immediately and sheepishly pull a thick black envelope from beneath the rest of my mail. I’ve been trying not to read it obsessively since I got it yesterday, hence why I’ve kept it hidden.

Allie squeals in excitement, snatching it from my hand and dumping the contents on the counter. There’s another bracelet, this one engraved with3663, and an invitation.

“Be here at nine on Sunday, wear what’s in the bag,” Allie reads aloud, her brows winging up toward her hairline. “He got youclothes?”

I flush even redder at that.

“I don’t know if I’d call them clothes,” I say with a chuckle. “The dress makes what I wore there the first time lookmodest.”

“Holy shit!” she squeals, pushing off the kitchen counter. “Show me!”

“After we eat!” I tell her with a groan. “I’m starving, and I don’t want to get grease on it.”

She pouts at me, but relents nonetheless, returning to the counter with me to eat. I don’t have an eat-in kitchen, or a table, so I usually eat on the couch, but Allie and I have a habit of standing to eat when we’re together.

“Oh, laptop,” Allie says around a mouthful of chow mein. “Almost forgot.”

She pulls it from her backpack and flips the screen open before sliding it across the counter toward me. I chuckle at her, forever astonished at how quickly she can switch topics.

My fingers are greasy, but her poor laptop has seen much worse. I take a bite of an egg roll as I log into my email, hoping for an answer from the last few inquiries I’ve sent out. It refuses to load on my old phone, no matter what I do, so I usually only get a chance to check it once a week.

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