Page 2 of A Grinchmas Delight

“Jesus Christ. I was out of the room for five seconds. What the hell happened?”

“I was storming out after you and forgot about the spilled water.”

Zane’s grey eyes linger on mine, unreadable. He smirks and shakes his head.

“I’ll be in the meeting. Go home. Or to the doctor. Send the bill to Odelia. I’ll see you next week.”

I cannot believe my ears. I half expected him to tell me that I needed to rush to the meeting, but I never expected him to send me home.

“I…uhh…okay.” I stutter and stumble without saying much of anything aside from random noises that sound like words.

I grab my phone and shove it in my purse and wait for Zane to exit my office before turning the light off and closing the door. He disappears down the hallway and into the meeting room without another word.

It must be the holidays getting to him because that wasalmostkindness.

Without thinking too much into it, I walk away and head to my car. I nearly scream as I sit down on my incredibly sore tailbone but manage to maintain a little bit of the pride that I have left. I drive home in the ridiculous amount of holiday traffic but Christmas music on the radio makes it a little bit better.

The constant throbbing in my backside has me questioning whether or not Ishouldgo to the hospital, but my pride keeps me home. How comical would the ER staff find it that my overweight self busted my ass so hard that I felt like I needed to see a doctor? The thought of being made fun of alone keeps me from even considering it. Besides, there isn’t much they can do for a bruised ego.

I twist my key into the door of my tiny, two bedroom, one bath home that was built in the nineteen-fifties. The rooms are small, the kitchen isn’t elaborate, and the living room is big enough for the most comfortable couch from two decades ago and a small stand with a tv. It isn’t much, but it’s all mine. It sits on a small piece of property on a heavily traveled highway just outside of the city, but nonetheless, it’s perfect for me and my tiny girl.

I’m greeted by two tiny paws bouncing off of my leg as I walk through the door.

“Reese Piecie!” I greet, picking her up.

She’s so excited she nearly wiggles out of my arms as she tries to lick me half to death. Sweet girl makes any bad day better. I set down my purse and walk through the kitchen to the back door to let her outside for a bit. It’s dark out already, and the temperature is dropping. Chill bumps race down my arms as the wind blows and I shiver while tapping my feet, waiting for Reese to do her business. She finally finds a spot then comes running like a little dark and light brown lightning bolt.

I open the refrigerator and she’s jumping with excitement, bouncing off my legs while she waits not so patiently for her dinner. Opening the container of wet food, I slice through it until it’s small enough for her to eat little pieces of it before I put it in her bowl and head to my room to take off these god forsaken heels and these clothes.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, wincing at the weight on my sore tailbone. I slip my shoes off one at a time, exhaling a sigh of relief as I wiggle my toes. I strip down and pull a pair of shorts and a camisole tank from the chest of drawers at the foot of my bed.

It’s Thanksgiving Eve and although I don’t have any plans, I just want to relax and enjoy the peaceful and quiet evening before I have to deal with my dysfunctional family tomorrow. I flip through the channels, curled underneath my fleece blanket with my Reese Piecie snuggled next to me.

I settle on the Santa Clause movie and sip on a mug of spiked hot chocolate. Bailey’s Irish Cream is the perfect addition to this already creamy and delicious holiday drink. Once my first movie is over, I have a buzz. By the time the second one is over, I’m feeling lit up like the Christmas tree.

I roll over in the bed and sigh, comfortable and buzzed and so sleepy. My eyes lull closed and I drift off into a peaceful sleep.

A loud pounding on my front door jars me awake and I wipe the drool from my mouth as my brain tries to figure out what the hell that sound is. The pounding begins again and I’m not sure if it’s my head pounding or someone actually at my door. Reese starts barking, crawling out from under the comforter with one ear flipped backward and I’m sure that it’s someone outside. It stops for a second then commences yet again, louder and more frantic this time.

I stumble out of bed and stuff my titty that had fallen out while I was asleep back inside of my tank top. I open the front door to find Zane Moore, the tall hateful devil himself, standing on my steps. I’ve got to be dreaming. Or having a nightmare.

“Can I help you?” I ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

His eyes rake over my breasts, nearly spilling out of the top of my tank top. Normally I would never wear something like thisin front of my boss, but I didn’t exactly have time to change and didn’t know he of all people would be at my door.

“Do you not have your phone on you?” he asks.

“No. I was sleeping…” I stare at him, incredulously.

Reese is on the back of the couch, trying to poke her head around the door frame to see what’s going on. Quietly huffing in small woofs of frustration. Zane doesn’t seem to notice, though.

“I have been calling you for an hour!”

“Is something wrong? Did something happen in the meeting?”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly before he opens them, a storm brewing in those ocean blue pools.

“No. I just…I didn’t know if you went to the hospital or not and Mark asked me to make sure you were okay after I told him about the incident earlier.”

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