Page 65 of The Crush of Christmas Past
“I knew you were the right Thorne man, Theo!”
She wedges herself between us, sporting a pastel apron over her formal dress. A sparkly headband crowns her dark hair.
“Thank goodness!” She beams, then follows it up with a wink. “Willow had me thinking I was losing my mind.”
Isla arches her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
Holly doesn’t answer. She just leans in to straighten out the small wooden sign displaying her new company logo. “You did an incredible job with the design. Now, when this guy”—she tilts her chin my way—“sends over your weekly cupcake order, your incredible talent will shine front and center on every box. How special is that?”
With those words, the shit-stirring baker vanishes, leaving me to smother the flames she fanned.
“Why did…” Uncertainty clouds Isla’s features. Curiosity, too. “What did Holly mean bythisguy?” She gestures vaguely at me before turning to the cupcakes. “She made it seem like…”
I keep my face neutral, letting her take charge of how this plays out.
“Those orders have been arriving at my desk for over a year. Every single Monday sin—” She freezes, her mouth falling open. “Since you left AdCraft?!”
I can’t tell if it’s a question or a realization, but I nod.
“It’s not just cupcakes!” Isla continues, panic gripping her voice. “There’s been so much stuff! Art supplies, design books, bubble tea from the fanciest place downtown. So many indulgences I could never justify—” She gasps. “MyJingleBellssocks!”
“To be fair, I regret sending those now that I know they traumatized poor Jovie.”
Isla’s fingers tremble as she stares at the cupcake in her hand like it might provide answers. “Why did you do it?”
“AdCraft is a soul-sucking hellhole. I hated you working there. Alone. Sunshine surrounded by darkness. I couldn’t fucking stand it, Isla.”
She takes a step back. “Ash said the packages were from someone who cares about me. I assumed it was him being his usual dramatic self and playing some silly game. He went along with it. I never thought you…” Her voice fades as she trails off.
“I knew you’d refuse anything that came from me,” I say quietly. “When he told me you thought he was the sender, I asked him to run with it.” At the time, it was the only way to stay close without scaring her off.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with this information?” She throws her hands up in the air.
“Nothing. Just don’t stop accepting the deliveries.” I pause and swallow through the tightness in my throat. “Just…let me care.”
“But youdon’tcare! We worked together at the same company for an entire year, and you pretended I didn’t exist. Except, of course, when you took it upon yourself to sabotage my career.”
I flinch at the accusation. “That was never my intention.”
“No?” she fires back. “Because from where I stood, you made it impossible for me to succeed! The big conference in Mexico City? You threw your weight around to block me from attending. How about when you shut me out of the gala at Klubb Elixir?” She takes up listing my infractions on her fingers. “You even ordered Jett to keep me away from the international client meeting in Paris. Told him I wasn’t ready!” Her breath hitches, but the blaze in her eyes doesn’t dim. “Every time I got close to proving myself, you slammed the door in my face.”
That last sentence is a punch to my gut.
As I open my mouth to reply, a woman I don’t recognize approaches the dessert table. I wait a moment for her to load her plate, but when she spends an excessive amount of time wavering between cookies and macarons—then finds it necessary to enlist an entire committee of peers in the endeavor—I steer Isla away from the action.
“You think I didn’t want you to succeed?” I ask in a low tone. Nausea accompanies the next words out of my mouth. “Mexico City wasn’t about showcasing your talent. Jett, Dante, and Axel were taking bets on which of their sick little followers would get into your pants first. And, trust me, Isla, those pricks were ready and willing to take any path necessary to win. So yeah, I made sure you weren’t there.”
“Klubb Elixir?”
“Same shit, different font. Ever heard of Rookie Roulette?”
Isla shakes her head.
“How about Fresh Meat Frenzy? Intern Initiation Inferno?” I rattle off the stupid titles, repulsion deepening my voice with each one.
Another headshake. Followed by a frown. “Paris?” she whispers. “I knew it was too good to be true for someonein my position to get a chance at taking point on a project, but since it required graphics-heavy work I just—”
“Paris was a setup. Those idiots were balls deep in a shady deal. They knew it would fall through and bite them in the ass, so the plan was to sacrifice you. Let you lead the path up the cliff, shove you off the edge, and walk away clean. I couldn’t stand by and watch them destroy you—personally or professionally.”
