Page 3 of A Very Bossy Christmas
“I hate this,” she offers, her tone softening. “Have you talked to either of them?”
“No and it wouldn’t change anything if I did.”
“Dec...”
“Isthatwhy you called? Because if it is—"
“It’s not—I just want to see you. We all do. You know how I feel about what’s going on…”
Yessssss. I’m still her favorite brother.
“I do, Case. And I appreciate it. And I’ve told you it’s not necessary for you to feel anything about it. Because I’m fine. It is what it is. I’m just busy with work and I can’t make it home. All there is to it.”
“Not even for dinner on Christmas Eve?”
“I can’t leave town—there’s a lot going on. I’m working straight through the holidays.”
“How can they make you do that?”
“Nobody’smakingme do it. I’m the general counsel. Of one of the top real estate firms in the city. We have nine offices—none of them will be closed over the holidays, and it’s my job to oversee all legal matters.”
This is technically true. Our offices won’t be closed. Which is why I’ll be there working and so will my assistant. But I don’thaveto be there working straight through the holidays. I want to.And fuck you, Catholic guilt. That’s enough out of you.
“Yeah yeah yeah, Mr. Bigshot Lawyer in the City That Never Sleeps. I get it. It sucks. But I get it.”
“It does suck.”
“But you’re coming to…” She doesn’t even finish that sentence, and I don’t need to hear the rest of it.
“Yeah. I’m not gonna miss it. But I’ll be in and out. Quick trip. How’s my favorite Jedi doing?” I change the subject fast.
“Your attempts at buying her love have paid off big-time. The presents you sent don’t even fit under the tree—you’re making the rest of us look bad.”
“So what else is new? That’s been a thing ever since I had a face.”
She laughs, but she can’t argue with that because it’s a fact. “You really can’t fly in just for dinner? You could fly back to New York that night, right? You could handle it for a few hours. Come on.”
I couldn’t. That’s the God’s honest truth. I couldn’t handle it, and I don’t want one person on earth to know this.
“I can handle it—I just don’t want to, and I can’t take even half a day off.”
“Fine. I understand.”
“Good.”
She exhales for so long it worries me. That can’t be good for her brain. Finally, she takes a deep breath and says very calmly, “I’m telling Ma.”
“Donottell Ma—Casey!”
“Good luck explaining toherwhy you’re not coming!”
I slap the top of the dashboard. She’s older than me, but I hate it when she doesn’t listen.
“I will tell her myself… Case? Casey...”
She hung up on me.
That is not good.
