Page 8 of Storybook Christmas

“You can’t invite them to work. Period.”

I look up in thought. “They’re all leaving town for Christmas break, so that gives us some time.”

Her eyes scan the office. I know she has a sixth sense about anyone who might be listening in, which is why I know the coast is clear when she says, “That Finn is one sweet kid. I can’t screw things up for him, okay, Lace? It’s nobody’s business what he does outside of work hours. You got me?”

“Okay.” I can never say no to Bertha.

Also, she’s right. Itisnobody’s business. Including mine.

Bertha stands, steps around her desk, then approaches me. I’m sure she’s going to give me a hug—she’s a big hugger. I put my arms out, and she reaches and grabs the skin on the back of my arm, right above my elbow.

Then she pinches.Hard.

“Ouch!” I cry out, my face twisting. “Bertha. Why did you do that?”

“I’m your life coach now. It’s not all hugs and rainbows anymore.” Her face is dead serious.

“This feels like a bee sting.” I rub the back of my arm. “And how does this help my life?”

“Embrace the discomfort.” She threatens to pinch me again, and I jump away. She raises a finger. “You wanted to grow tougher skin. I’m applying that principle literally.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“Oh, but it does.” Suddenly, she pulls me into a tight hug. “I love you, my sweet Lacy.”

“Love you, too, Bertha.” My face crumples as I hold her, worried she’s going to pinch me again. “Or I used to.”

“You’re gonna love me more after you earn myGrab Life by The Ballscertificate. You’ll see, young apprentice. You’ll see.”

4

Office Games

IT’S ALREADY TUESDAY, and I have to get a new contract out to my author, Sage Katz, STAT, since Sutton & Sutton broke the old one by not delivering her advanced reader copies in time. To do that, I need The Suttons’ signatures, and they’ve both been in the same meeting for the past two hours.

Standing outside their conference room waiting for it to end, I’m pondering whether I should bribe Bertha to interrupt. But I don’t want to use up that card because I’m sure this meeting’s almost over—Isaac has begun talking in the past tense.It was great catching up with you. We got a lot accomplished today.

Honestly, I should just bust in there—I require their signatures after the messtheymade. I really need to be more assertive.

Finn appears and takes a position next to me at the door.

“Oh, no,” I scathe in a whisper, shaking my head feverishly. “I was here first. And I’ve been waiting forever.”

“Seriously, Lacy,” he utters, desperately hitching a thumb over his shoulder. “Joshua will have my head if I don’t get this ad copy approved. The Suttons’ meeting has to be almost over. Then we can go in together.”

I curl my lip. How does he know the meeting’s almost over? He hasn’t been listening in. Does he have another end-of-meeting signal that I don’t know about?

Admittedly, it’s hard to say no to Finn—but I’m not falling for those irresistible eyes that can go from smoldering to puppy dog in a flash. I settle on, “Fine, but I’m going first.”

That’s when Annabelle, the daughter of Isaac Sutton of Sutton & Sutton Publishing, comes floating through the frosted front doors of the office, her coal black hair perfectly coiffed and her long legs looking extra golden in her crisp white skirt suit.

She strides over, looking back and forth at Finn and me as if we’re pathetic. “Excuse me, please. I need to speak to my father.”

I guess the “No interruption” policy doesn’t apply to her.

“Sure,” I say, stepping aside. Finn joins me.

When she breezes past us, her scent of vanilla and blueberries fills the air, and Iknowthat has to be the latest designer perfume that costs a couple thousand dollars.

---