Page 22 of Ho Ho Oh No

“What do you mean by handcrafted?”

“I made it out of empty cardboard boxes that I covered in gold embossed wrapping paper so it looked fancy. Even glued on some little gems I got at the craft store for embellishments. I used the empty wrapping paper tubes to make the poles that we’d have to use to carry the chair. If it were real, that is. Then, I put bicycle grips on the ends of the tubes to sell it. I still don’t know how I fooled them. It was clearly DIY, but they fucking fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker. And boy, were they pissed.”

“That’s not the least bit funny,” she says while snickering.

“If it isn’t funny, why are you laughing?”

“I’m laughing at myself for being dumb enough to marry you.” More chuckles, louder and more vibrant. “I’m such a loser.”

“Your loss. My gain. I don’t regret a damn thing. If you do, that’s on you.”

Her laughter grows, making her belly jump and jostle.

I point at her stomach. “The babies think it’s hilarious. Look at them go.”

“They’re trying to escape to get away from you.”

I join in on the laughter despite it being at my expense. If we can’t laugh at ourselves, we’re no better than the animals. And I fucking love her. If she’s laughing and smiling, then so am I.

Once she sobers, she pats the table twice. “Back to the story. What did you do with the damn cardboard box chair to fool them?”

“I had twing and twang come down to the parking lot to help me retrieve the sedan chair. They bitched and moaned the whole way down there because they figured I was messing with them. Probably thought we’d get downstairs, and I’d be all likegotcha!” I pause to catch my breath and stop the rising guffaws. “When I pop the SUV trunk, the profanity that came flying out of Shep’s mouth was legendary. Made every visit he had with Yuri sound like an afternoon in Church. For a second, I worried he was about to walk off the job. Klein stood there like he was cast in stone. Never seen an expression so blank. It was like he was rebooting. Princess, I fell to my knees, laughing so fucking hard. I couldn’t breathe.”

The same way I was in the story, I’m in all-out hysterics. Sammy’s cracking up with me, thanks to either my hilarious storytelling, my superior practical-joke-delivering capabilities, or the laughter contagion property. The law of laughter clearly states that if someone busts a gut in your presence, it spreads like chlamydia in the Marines.

Sammy’s the first to get her composure. “I’ll never look at Klein and Shep the same way. I thought they were intelligent men. Guess not. Because I’ve seen your crafting ability. It’s not impressive.”

“Well, in their defense, I had the interior light in the cabin of the SUV turned off and it was dark outside. So they didn’t have a great view. But the real reason the gag worked so well was thanks to Peggy.”

“Big Al’s former assistant? What did she do?”

“Earlier that afternoon, I had her send me an email from Boss’s account. The email stated the sedan chair had been delivered per the Sultan’s request and ordered me to pick it up before heading to the hotel for my shift. So that explained why it was in my SUV. In the elevator on the way down to the car, I showed them both the email.” A snort-laugh trumpets out of me when I remember the dumb look on Klein’s face when he read and reread the email. “The message said if we didn’t carry her royal highness around on the damn thing, we were fired. Made it sound like Boss was on a tear. Peggy did so damn good.”

“Ah. Well, I suppose I can forgive their stupidity. It wouldn’t be like Big Al to take part in a prank, so by the time they got to the SUV, they probably thought it was the real deal.”

“Exactly.”

With her smile gradually fading, Sammy sighs wistfully. “I love Lettie working here, but I miss Peggy. She’s a sweet old gal. You think she’ll ever come back?”

“Probably for a visit someday. But I’m not surprised she retired.”

“Well, the threat is still here, which is why she left, so it makes sense she didn’t return to work. And she’s at retirement age. I suppose I wouldn’t have come back either.”

I cast a doubtful eye roll at her. “You don’t believe that’s why she left, do you?”

Before she’s able to answer, Sammy inhales sharply. Her face pinches tight, and she slings her hand around to massage her back.

My spine goes ramrod straight. “You okay, Sammy? Contractions?”

Is it happening? On Christmas Eve?

But the costume party.

I chide myself for such a stupid thought.Dammit, focus, Sawyer.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. Stand down, cowboy.” She waves me off with a flick of her wrist. “Just a pulled muscle. I told you my back is killing me. I think I slept wrong last night.”

“First, I don’t care for cowboy either. And second, are you sure? It could be labor. Remember how they said it can feel like back pain initially? Is your stomach tightening? How long have you been having them? We should time them.”

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