Page 51 of Ho Ho Oh No

Lettie rises slowly. “I can get away with it.” She tosses a wink over her shoulder at us, taking a determined step toward the guys.

Lunging forward, I encircle her wrist to hold her back. “I was kidding.Stop. You cannot do that.”

She scrunches her nose and mouth at me, looking affronted. “Why not? The public deserves to know.”

Through intensifying guffaws, Kritriesto get her to see reason. More than likely a foolish quest if my research on Lettie is anything to go by. “My dear, sweet summer child, what about your John McClane over there? You think he won’t commit murder if you see his coworkers’ dicks?”

Kri isn’t calling Tomer that for shits and giggles. He’s dressed as theDie Hardcharacter. While some might contend it isn’t a holiday film, the party planning committee approved it. Lettie’s on the committee, so it isn’t surprising he got a pass.

To be honest, I’m shocked he dressed up at all. I’m proud of my friend and all the growth he’s shown over the last few months. His sugar bear is so good for him. It warms my cold, black heart.

Lettie rolls her eyes with such flare it’s no wonder she’s the president of our Brat Pack. “Oh puh-leeease.Don’t get your knickers in a knot, sweet thang. My babe ain’t jealous like that. If he was, he wouldn’t have gotten me a job at a kink club. Ever been in one? Cock and balls decorate the rooms like wallpaper.” She flings her thumb toward Aaron and Jonesy. “Those two brutes over yonder ain’t got nothin’ I ain’t seen before. And if you think I can go all night without knowing if their dicks are crammed into those boxes, you’ve done lost your marbles.”

Moments such as these prove coming to Redleg was the single greatest decision I ever made.

Still attempting to show Lettie the light, Kri says, “Fine, Lettie. I get it. You can see all the dick you want. But not in the workplace.”

“Not inthisworkplace,” I tack on the subtle yet important distinction. “Dick on the job was your old life.”

She looks from us to the guys and back again, her lips crumpling comically. “Whatever. Killjoys.” After another impressive roll of her eyes, she plops down into her chair with a huff. “Something exciting needs to happen and fast. Otherwise, my ADHD squirrel won’t let this one go.”

Apparently not done discussing the subject of the hour, Kri adds, “I gotta say this last thing, and then I’ll drop it. I’m shockedthatthosetwo guys did it. Out of everyone else here.Them. If I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it.”

I nod in agreement. “Right? I’d have expected a costume like that from Sawyer and whomever he could rope into it.”

Lettie chimes in. “Not Tomer, for sure. But Shep could have been talked into it or maybe even Klein.”

I shake my head vigorously. “Cal wouldneverwear that.” I raise my cup in his direction. “Ofallthe costumes he could have picked, look at what he’s wearing. Couldn’t be further fromDick in a Box.”

Kri tips her head to one side. “Who is he supposed to be?”

“George Bailey, right? FromIt’s a Wonderful Life?” Lettie’s knowledge of the classic film surprises me only slightly. “Papalovedthat movie. We watched it every year. That’s got to be who he’s dressed as.”

I glide my vision back toward Cal. “Yep. That’s my old soul over there. Wholesome as fuck. Outside the bedroom, anyhow.”I greedily guzzle down the sight of my cake-assed, sexy baby in that finely tailored suit.

Yummy. I can’t wait until later when I get to strip it off him and lick pie filling off his backside.

After taking a deep breath, Kri stiffens in her chair and places her drink between her thighs. She sets one hand on my arm and the other on Lettie’s like she’s about to lead us in a séance. “Fellow brats, while we’re gathered here without our partners hovering, I have a confession.” She lowers her chin, eyes downcast and sullen. “I did something bad today.”

Other than a bob of her throat, she stays silent for a beat. It’s so unlike Kri to lack confidence. I wonder if she’s experiencing a long-term side effect to the skirt-wearing, whereby she’s not quite herself anymore.

Lettie and I shoot concerned looks at each other, all four of our eyebrows reaching toward the twinkling lights Leo draped from the ceiling.

I nudge Kri with my elbow. “Have you been naughty when you should have been nice?”

Lettie one-ups my attempt at cheesy holiday humor with her signature Southern twang in full effect. “If you bratted too close to the sun, darlin’, all you have to do is have Shep wear the mistletoe belt and confess while on your knees. I’d say you should tie your hair up too, but that ain’t a problem for you. He’ll forgive you by the time you swallow.”

“She’s got a great point,” I offer. “Apology blow jobs—bjologies—work like a charm. That’s how I got Cal to forgive me.”

Tiny overshare. I blame the eggnog. Madeline made it, so it’s quite strong.

Kri’s tension starts to melt. “He heard me refer to theBrat Packtoday.” She whips her head from side to side, scrutinizing us for our response. Her thumbnail slips between her teeth. “I’m sorry. It just slipped out.”

“That’s what she said,” Lettie deadpans, then quickly morphs into damage control mode. “But no worries. We can handle this. And if we need help figuring it out, I’ll call Freya or Stellafor guidance. I learned everything I know from them. Tell me exactly what happened and what Shep knows.”

Kri rambles through a rather uneventful story about how Shep tried to get her to confess after he heard her mumble our silly little group name. Ultimately, she pointed out that she can do whatever she wants outside the bedroom, which made him back off completely.

I knew Shep was a good guy all along.

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