Page 42 of Love Letters to Christmas

Christmas in July! Brian was able to get permission for aChristmas in Julyevent! I don’t know when or how it happened, but it did. I…also don’t know where our boss is…but I’m sure that’s not important!

Just look how happy everyone is!

Seated beside an ecstatic Will, who has been narrating the slides for her thus far, Ruby groans.

Across from Ruby, Frank has collapsed against the table, and she might be sobbing…fromjoydefinitely.

Micheal from HR opens his mouth, but Brian presses the button on his remote before he can speak. “Our Christmas in July event isnotmandatory. It isnotinvasive. It isnot a lawsuit.”

I hardly know why such a thing would need to be said. Of course it’s not a mandatory, invasive, lawsuit. HR is always trying to ruin good fun and team-building morale for no reason. The department just doesn’t appreciate kindness or blessings.

Crossing my arms, I shake my head at the man—stopping abruptly when he glances my way.

“While Liam is busy in Europe launching a new branch and taking a late honeymoon, he’s left me in charge of morale,” Briandeclares.

“What?” Ruby snaps.

Frank lifts her head. She looks starkly horrified…but I’m sure that’s just the snowflake light across her round cheeks and fabulous glasses. “I thought he left the manager of our closest branch in charge.”

“Ofbusinessthings.I’min charge ofmorale, which is very different.” Brian nods, chipper. “Not to mention I’ve got the platinum AMEX to prove it.”

Micheal pales.

“I’ve planned a very special month-long celebration to keep up morale in our beloved boss’s absence.” Brian changes to the next slide, which boasts an incredible amount of adorable Christmas cheer. He paces in front of the snowmen and reindeer set up behind the projector screen. “You may have noticed the decorations that have sprung up overnight.”

I have. They’re lovely.

Brian continues, “That is because I have been here all weekend.”

My mouth drops open. Sothat’swhy he’s barely been home these past few days. He should have asked me to help. I would have loved to decorate for Christmas in July. It’s quite practically my namesake, and I’m sure decorating with Brian would befun, not whatever decorating with my parents was.

“Some of the tiny, brief, practically-inconsequential complaints I overheard where it concerned our Valentine celebration was that it interrupted workflow and was an overall ‘nuisance’.” He air quotes as his eyes merrily roll.

I plaster my hand to my heart. “No.”

Solemn, Brian pins me with a sorrowful look. “Yes.” Then, in a whirl of brightness, he throws out his arms and the slide behind him changes to display Christmas-colored fireworks. “That is whythis timeall events shall take placeoutside workinghoursand! Not be a daily conundrum to coordinate into everyone’s schedules. Remember how I said this time our fun isn’t mandatory?”

Feeble, cautious confirmation rises around the table.

“Well, I lied,” he says.

“What?” Ruby exclaims, yet again. I think she’s either hyperventilating or seething while her husband attempts, futilely, to settle her. At one point, I’m pretty sure she whacks him with her cane, but who can say for sure?I’mfocused on the very importantpresentationthat Brian clearly put immense time and sleepless nights of effort into.

Brian’s lashes flutter, innocent as a dove. “Only a little bit.Mostof the event isn’t mandatory. But the Christmas party on the twenty-fifth? That is. One eensy-weensy little mandatory thing that you merely have to make a five minute appearance at. That’s all. For the sake of team building and fun. Unity. Morale! Remember the morale? Very important thing, morale.”

I agree! It’s so important that everything Brian’s worked very hard onshouldbe mandatory! Not wanting to improve your morale by a riveting three hundred percent—according to a slide from earlier in Brian’s presentation—is crazy.

“I’m emailing Liam,” Ruby grits, reaching for her phone and scowling as the screen reader assists her.

“Our first event starts today, after this meeting,” Brian says. “And it is a work-related event, purely voluntary…for everyone but Will.”

Ruby’s husband perks as her fingers stall.

“For Will, it is mandatory,” Brian states.

Will presents an offended front. “As if I’d ever pass up some good morale and team-building fun.”

Brian beams. “That’s the spirit. I’ve set up an email to go out with information on how this will work. In it, you’ll find your log-in information and a link to a website that possessesa game-styled database to track building-wide performance. Department heads will be at liberty to alter and add tasks to the database. Everyone who wants to participate can earn points for completing their work and lose points for causing distractions or failing to achieve their bare minimum work requirements each day—as determined by you, our department heads. Earning enough points puts you on the nice list, which will result in a marvelous prize come the Christmas party on the twenty-fifth. Losing points or failing to procure enough to reach nice-list status before the party results in being placed on thenaughtylist.” Letting his voice turn from chipper to pitiful, Brian says, “I have done my very best to make this appealing to everyone, Ruby. I built a website for you. An entire website. With full alternative text. Is making an appearance at one Christmas party on a day you’ll already be here for work anyway really a big deal?”

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