Page 15 of A Holiday Lift

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“Where are you?”I ask into the receiver. “My mother got here an hour ago and you haven’t called.”

Dean let’s out a heavy sigh. “What time is it?”

“Almost nine.”

Seven hours have passed, and he’s been completely silent. Not even responding to my texts. It wasn’t until I emailed his assistant that he finally called me.

“Jesus. I . . . it’s a shitshow here and I can’t leave.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, Holls. I’m trying, but the client is in an uproar, and if I lose him—.” He groans. “I can’t even think about it.”

I take a deep breath. “Can I help?”

“I wish you could, but . . . look it’s bad and right now, I may have to fly out to do this in person. This is the big company I brought in and . . .”

He doesn’t have to explain that if the client walks, he’ll lose his job. I know if I were to assure him that if that happened—which I don’t think it would—we’d be okay on my salary, he wouldn’t change his mind.

Dean is driven, and its part of why I’m so attracted to him. He needs to fix this, not just because it’s his job but because it matters to him.

“I understand. Listen, do whatever you have to, but Christmas is in two days.”

“Believe me, sweetheart, I know.”

“When would you leave?” I ask, feeling a slight tinge of disappointment at even the idea of him going.

“Tonight. Tomorrow. I don’t know.”

There’s no mistaking the sadness in his voice. Even if I want to be mad, I can’t be. Dean doesn’t want to miss Christmas any more than I want him to.

“Okay, well, you tell me what you need, and we’ll . . . we’ll just have to adjust.”

I start to make contingency plans because I won’t let this ruin our holiday. It’s important that this year goes off without any issues. The first year, everything was so new because we’d just survived being trapped in an elevator. But it was the holidays so it felt like some magical twist.

The next year, we had the most amazing time. And I knew. I knew that Dean was everything.

He means presents under the tree, dinner with family, snow, and smiles—not work disasters in Tokyo.

However, like I told his mother, I love him. A single day doesn’t have to define a lifetime. We’ll find a way to salvage Christmas.

8

It’s two in the morning on Christmas Eve, and I’m still at my desk. Nothing is going right. I don’t know where the hell this deal fell off the rails, but no matter what I do, it won’t go on track.

The two owners are talking to each other over the video chat.

I rub my eyes, exhausted and beyond frustrated. This was supposed to be the deal that set the entire new year off for my team. We were gaining a new brand that would launch multiple products through us.

I had this done.

And now it’s slipping through my fingers.

I drain the remainder of my coffee, praying this caffeine will kick in, and then look at the photo of Holly and I on my desk.

She’s smiling up at me, her hand resting on my chest as my lips rest on her forehead while the colored lights of the tree shine behind us. It was our first official Christmas as a couple. Last year, after we went to California to see my mom and then had Christmas with her mother, I surprised her with a trip to New York City.