Page 62 of Love Letters to Christmas

Haha. Yeah. Probably that one.

I help sort the mail at work and see his mail at home. I’d know if Brian were still getting love letters these days. He isn’t. Possibly I’m the first he’s gotten in a while.

Maybe he’s just ready to settle down and is taking this opportunity to get to know someone who has professed interestin him?

Selecting my paper, I get through writingMy dearest Brianbefore I remember that I am here in his house. I, Amelia Christmas, am a woman living in Brian’s house. And he has made it impeccably clear that I amwelcometo continue living in his house. Indefinitely.

If he’s looking to settle down, he has to know that some other girl would not be okay with that.

Ice cold dread washes over me.

He. Knows.

He knows his secret admirer is me.

He knows, and he’s entertaining the idea.

Because Brian wouldn’t play with my feelings like this, right? Not if he knows I’m serious, at least. I need to make sure my next letter makes it very clear that I’m deathly serious about him. Then,thenI’ll see how he responds.

Here goes…everything.

Heart in my throat, I put my pen to the page.

Chapter Twenty-two

It’s your favorite mailroom guy, Brian! And he would never, ever, do anything wrong.

Brian

“Morale is at an all-time high, I can confirm.” I beam, innocently, at my boss while he peers at me through the computer in my office, which has been conveniently left void of decorations directly behind my camera. “Productivity is also at an all-time high.”

“Is it now?” Liam asks, narrowing his eyes in a way I hope is normal and not accusatory.

I cut my attention to my other screen, where I have a check box hanging out right beside the taskCall Liam. It’s gonna be so dopamine-inducing to mark it off my list. Nodding, I say, “I’ve created a system that promotes unity and achievement in return for reward.”

“There are several thousand-dollar charges on the card I left you. Already.”

I nod some more. “Those are the rewards. I assure you, I’ve had Will run the numbers, and there’s a substantial increase in productivity, which has led to income that more than covers the positive-reinforcement.”

Liam grunts. “Huh. I did intend for you to focus on keeping spirits up, not productivity, but if you’ve found a way to incorporate both, I’ll not argue with it.” Rubbing an eye, he yawns.

Not arguing is good. Love not arguing with happiness.Especially when the happiness in question is mine. “How late is it over there, boss?”

“One thirty-two,” he mumbles. “I still have paperwork to go through.”

Yikes. I do not envy him. “Well, if there are no other questions, I’ll let you get back to that, and I’ll get back to my Mail-ia.”

“How are things going with Amelia?” he asks. Another question.

My disappointment is immeasurable.

I reply, “Her work is excellent. She is an enthusiastic servant of the mailroom, and I could not ask for a better coworker.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

I blink. “You are not interested in hearing accolades of her work-related efficiency and passion as it relates to your thriving business?”

“No. You don’t hire anyone unless they pass your arduous tests, and then you quietly let people who don’t live up to your expectations go with a viciousness that borders on evil. I think the last time you had any help was in February, purely for the sake of Valentine’s. If Amelia’s still on staff, she’s doing an exemplary job.” Liam steeples his fingers. “I am invested in your relationship.”

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