Page 44 of Texting My Secret Santa

Me:Oh?I text, which is the most I can manage.

If I asked her what she meant specifically, it would be tantamount to lying to her.

My Secret Santa:I’ve got to dress up as an elf to help with a toy drive. I’ll have to make sure I’ve got bucketloads of Christmas spirit and a big smile on my face.

Me:That should be easy for you.

My Secret Santa:The only issue is that the Santa is just as much of a Grinch as you. I’m not sure he’s up to the task.

I shove the phone in my top drawer. We’ve reached an impasse. If I keep texting without admitting thatI’mthe Santa, it’s deception. I decide to leave my office.

I’ve got some tasks I’ve been putting off: introducing myself to the heads of other departments and chasing up some overdue paperwork in accounting. I need busywork to distract from my guilt for not texting her back.

My errands take me about an hour, then Dan calls me and says he wants to see me in his office. A call from my best buddy neverused to make my gut tighten with nerves. I miss being excited about seeing him without this cloud hanging over us.

He’s obliviously happy when I walk into his office, tossing a baseball from hand to hand as he paces near the window.

“Good news?” I say.

“Greatnews. We had some feedback about the Secret Santa game. It’s going strong, and so far, no HR disasters. That was my biggest fear when we went live with this.”

I wonder what he’d say if he knew I’ve been using the little game to text his sister.

“That’s not why I called you up here. I wanted to ask you something delicate. Sit down, Asher.”

He suddenly becomes serious, far more than usual. I swallow what feels like a tangle of razor blades.

This is it, then. Somehow, he found out about Holly and me. I doubt she told him. Maybe he sensed something was off? Or perhaps he has access to the Secret Santa texts and inferred something was going on.

We sit on the couch, not at his desk. It should make it feel more casual. It doesn’t.

“You’re probably going to freak when I suggest this,” he says. “So, before I say it, I want you to know it’s important to me. I’ve got buddies here, of course. I’m not some social freak, but nobody like you, Asher. When you’ve got ties that run as deep as us, that matters. Don’t you think?”

I wish he’d get to the point. Drawing it out is just making me feel more like a heel.

“It matters, Dan,” I agree.

“I can trust you. I know you want the best for me. I’m not saying that’s not true for my other friends, but they’ve never fought three kids because they were throwing gum at me.”

I smile, remembering that day. “They were assholes, Dan. They wouldn’t even look you in the eye if you met them today.”

“All right, so this is it.”

He takes a breath, summoning his courage.

Is he going to tell me to leave the city?

Is he going to fire me?

Is he going to say we can’t be friends anymore?

“I need you to be my wingman for a double date.”

Whoa. Okay. Not what I expected.

“I know, I know,” he quickly says, anticipating my response. “Dating isn’t your thing. You don’t want to get involved. I’m not saying you must marry the girl, but I’ve been chasing this lady for a while. She’s a model, always busy. She wants to go on a date but promised her friend they’d go out together. What’d you think?”

“Does this other lady understand I won’t be interested?”

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