Page 4 of Texting My Secret Santa

CHAPTER 2

ASHER

“I’m not here to crack the whip two weeks out from Christmas,” I tell my team of twelve employees while standing at the front of the conference room. “I know you’ve all probably got plans for the holidays, but I want to go in a new direction for the latest phone. We’ve been trying to make it smaller and thinner, but there have been complaints about usability. I’d like us to achieve the impossible—sleek but manageable. Something with the practicality of a video game controller while still appealing to the high-powered executive who wants to draw their competitors’ eyes when they put their phone on the desk during a meeting.”

They all nod, some of them taking notes.

After the meeting, a young man approaches me. He’s wearing a red Christmas sweater with the wordsThe Most Wonderful Time of the Yearprinted on the front. It’s unfair of me to dislike him immediately for this. I’m such a miserable ass at this time of year.

“Thank you, Mr. Mitchell,” he says, offering his hand. “I’m Derek Wells.”

“Good to meet you, Derek.”

“I just wanted to say we’re thrilled to have you here. What you did in California was impressive. You turnedtwocompanies around without touching the tech, just the exterior.”

“That’s nice of you to say.”

“Are you staying with Mr. Harper?”

He’s got a hungry look to him. That’s the only word that makes sense: sunken cheeks, manic eyes, too much coffee, too much cheer.

“What makes you say that?”

“I saw you arrive together … with Holly Harper, too.”

The way he says Holly’s name sets off my alarm bells. “My living situation isn’t any of your concern, Derek.”

“You’re right, sir. I’m sorry.” He hurries from the room.

It’s not exactly the best start. He was probably just trying to be friendly. I’ve only been in the office for around an hour, and already, I’m looking forward to the New Year when we can tear these decorations down. It’s like there’s a sick obsession with all this crap.

And him mentioning Holly?—

What else is there to say? She’s all grown up. I wouldn’t have even recognized her if I didn’t know Dan was living with his sister. Curvy build and green eyes like a goddamn wreath, looking sassy and capable in her business suit, black, tight-fitting, emphasizing the shape of her body.

She looked so proud of herself for hiding my clothes as if she were going to burst with excitement. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. It was cute. Cute, as in, whoa, my best friend’s sister is pretty cute. I don’t mean “cute,” as in,Wow, I’d like to take this chick on a date.

I’ve got more chance of putting on a Santa suit and running around the office with a sack of gifts than that happening.

For the next few hours, I sit in the main office, reviewing my predecessor’s notes, trying to work them into a logical arrangement. They’re a mess. I make lists. Not lists likehe’s making a list, checking it twice—lists like a cold, calculating machine, methodically bringing the world into some semblance of order.

A knock comes at my door at two.

“Hello, sir,” a woman says. “Can I introduce myself?” She’s a little awkward. “My name’s Mia.”

I must look startled because she takes a step back. Mia is the name of the woman I dated last year until she broke up with me at Christmas. It’s a weird coincidence, but I quickly plaster what I hope is a professional smile on my face. The last thing I need is to bring my personal baggage into the office.

Plus, they’re nothing alike. This Mia has red hair in a ponytail, and she’s a few years younger than the woman I was dating. A callous way to think of an ex, maybe, but I can’t think of her as “my” Mia. I never could.

“Hi, Mia. Can I help you?”

“I just wanted to let you know that they’re announcing the Secret Santa in the cafeteria. Marketing wants us there. I think they’re going to be getting some footage.”

That means Holly will be darting around with her camera, just like when she was a kid. That hasn’t changed, then.

“I’ll be right down.”

I’m not sure there’s much use to me going. They certainly won’t use footage of me sitting around glaring. Who knows, though? Maybe Holly’s Christmas spirit will rub off on me.

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