Page 17 of My Secret Snowflake
“Not much.” I’m not sure what Iris is expecting. “I think he said, ‘I made my Christmas list, and I’d like some pajamas, a coffee thermos, and a new set of golf clubs.’”
“Funny,” Iris says.
“Couldn’t resist. No. He said, ‘Busy weekend, but got in some golf on Sunday. You?’”
“Are you serious?” Iris asks. “What did you do this past weekend?”
“I had dinner at my parents on Friday, played squash with Rupert on Saturday, started reading this book he recommended, had a date on Saturday, went for a run on Sunday, and then worked in the office. What about you?”
“Hold up.” Iris splays out her hand like a traffic cop. “You had a date on Saturday? I thought you were committed to remaining single.”
“Daughter of my mom’s friend. I can’t turn my mom down, but in any event, she was also not interested in pursuing a relationship. She just accepted a job in Hong Kong and is about to move there.”
“All right, I’m going to make you a list of questions to ask Ernest—and you have to ask them.” Iris picks up her phone and types furiously. That looks like a lot of questions.
“Why can’t you ask him?” I ask.
“Because then he’ll know I’m his Secret Snowflake. There. I just sent it to you.”
I open my phone. “How am I going to ask him all these questions? What size boxers he wears? What type of boxers? What? You’re not serious.”
“I definitely can’t ask him that question,” Iris says, shrugging but with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“You can’t give Ernest boxers.”
“I found some golf-themed boxers for under twenty dollars,” she says. “Given that the only thing you’ve told me he’s interested in is golf, that might be the best I can do. Unless you can find another interest.”
“Way to put the pressure on. You can’t give boxers in the work environment,” I say. Boxers! Ernest will definitely take that as a green light. “Why don’t you give those golf club sock covers?”
“Do you like socks as a gift? Why do you keep suggesting socks? Have you gone into company lawyer mode?”
“Yes.” I cross my arms across my chest. “And I said sockcovers, as in the things that go over the business end of a golf club. As your counsel, I’m advising you not to give boxers. I’ll ask him the questions on your list. Do you still want me to ask him about books?”
“Yes, because even if he’s not a ‘bookworm,’ but he still might like reading a good book.”
“I think you created some of these just to make it difficult for me. How am I supposed to ask him what his favorite cookie is?”
She grins. “I admit I wouldn’t mind eavesdropping when you interview him.”
Erneststopsbymyoffice later that afternoon to review the numbers in the CEO presentation. We finish polishing the presentation, and I send it off to Bob. I lean back in my chair.
“It’s great you found that extra revenue,” I say.If a bit suspicious.
As if answering my unspoken question as to how it was missed before, he says, “Colby made a mistake with a bill.”
No way. Colby breathes the numbers of this company.
Maybe Bob is right that there is something off lately, but he seemed to be a part of it, with the way he shoved those papers into his desk drawer. Or maybe I’m just being way too suspicious. But I can’t just trust everything people say. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way.
Time to ask Iris’s questions. “I was just reading this mystery by Wilhemina Chrissy. Have you heard of it?”
“No.”
“Do you read mysteries?
“Not really.”
“Thrillers?”
