Page 68 of Texting My Secret Santa

When Mia returns to the office, I approach her desk. I can’t let my bad mood infect everybody else.

“Mia, can we talk?”

She looks up at me with panic in her eyes.

In my office, I say, “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

You see, it’s just that the idea of being with anybody other than my Snowflake is anathema to me.

“I think I’ve given the wrong impression, sir,” she mutters. “I never wanted … that. It was just before your predecessor left. She mentioned I might be able to get a raise. I’ve been trying to figure out how best to raise the topic. I don’t want to be presumptuous, but …”

I laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. I have been an ass.

“I’m not laughing at you,” I tell her quickly. “I just can’t believe how wrong I was. I’m sorry, Mia, truly. Let me find my footing. I’ll keep a close eye on you and review your previous projects, too. I’ll also assess my predecessor’s notes.”

She smiles. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you for not flying off the handle at me. You had every right after how I behaved earlier.”

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” Mia mutters. “Just so you know …”

“I’ve got a girlfriend,” I say reflexively.

She leaves. Why did I say that? Oh, that’s right.

I want it to be true.

I do my best to focus on my work. Before I came here, it was my main passion in life. It was like meditation. I could sit at my desk, home in on a project, and hours would go by without realizing it.

Not anymore.

Maybe I need a no-cell phone policy. I leap on it when it rings.

Snowflake?I almost say before I hear Mom’s voice.

“Asher?” As usual, she sounds apologetic.

“Mom? Is everything okay?”

“My volunteer team leader at the church has received some disturbing emails. They mention you and Holly. I’m so sorry to do this.”

“What sort of emails?” I growl.

“Calling you and Holly vicious, ugly names, names I won’t repeat. He’s saying he has videos of me from …” She sniffles, barely holding back tears. “… from when I was an addict. An active addict, I mean.”

I curl my hand into a fist, ready to tear his throat out. “Are you at home?”

“Yes.”

“I’m coming right to you. Stay where you are. I love you, Mom. You don’t need to worry.”

I hang up, then call Holly.

“Asher …”

“He’s emailing my mom’s volunteer team leader at the church,” I snap. “Calling you and me names, threatening he has videos of my mother. He’s gone off the goddamn rails. We need to kill his leverage so he can get the punishment he deserves.”

“Kill his leverage, meaning …”

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