Page 110 of Babies for the Christmas Grump
“I can’t handle this,” I mutter under my breath. I’d almost say it’s a prayer if I believed anyone was listening.
“We can fix it. We have to,” Marjorie says, looking at me suspiciously. She must sense I’m about to collapse into a puddle of stress and tears.
The panic building inside me suddenly morphs into something sharper, more focused. I can’t break now, not with so much riding on this night.
The hotel. My aunt’s legacy. The people who’ve worked here for years. They’re all counting on me. I am counting on myself.
But the thought of finding a last-minute DJ, along with everything else, adds one more boulder to a mountain that’s already way too high to climb.
“Okay,” I say, rallying as best I can. “We’ll figure this out. Call the other venues. Find anyone who can fill in at the last minute.”
Claire comes over, her phone glued to her ear. “I’ve already got a few calls out. Let’s keep trying.”
“Wait, a DJ?” Pearl comes out of the bar with a glass of wine in her hand. “My nephew can DJ. Let me give him a call, see if he can get here.”
“Wait, really?” Marjorie gasps. “If he needs persuading, let me talk to him…”
Just as the tension seems to reach its peak, as if the universe has one more little joke to play, Ryder walks in.
I barely notice his arrival at first, too caught up in the frenzy of my own thoughts, but when he speaks, a switch flips in my brain.
He’s calm, like he always is, moving through everything with that easy confidence that’s both comforting and infuriating.
“Hey,” he says, as though this is just another Tuesday morning, “everything going according to plan?”
I spin around, my heart hammering in my chest, too many things unraveling inside me all at once. There’s no humor in my voice when I respond. None.
“Everything isnotgoing according to plan, Ryder,” I snap, stepping toward him. “The DJ bailed. The ballroom looks like a tornado came through it. The Christmas tree is about to fall on somebody, and I’m supposed to fix it. This isn’t some easy little problem to solve. This is my life right now.”
Ryder blinks, clearly not prepared for the eruption that’s coming his way. He doesn’t step back, though. He’s too grounded for that.
“I didn’t mean to?—”
“No,” I cut him off, the frustration of the entire week bubbling over. “You never mean to. But you haven’t been involved withanyof this. You haven’t helped with the planning at all. Youclearlyhave something else going on, but…”
I can feel the words coming faster now, each one sharper than the last. I can’t stop the flood once it’s started, and I’m just standing there, powerless to control it.
“Do you even realize how much is on my plate right now?” I throw my hands up, frustration bubbling over. “I’ve been doing everything while you swoop in with your polished suit and your corporate wisdom and think you have all the answers.”
His face doesn’t change, but I see the tension in his jaw. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down. And that makes me even more furious.
“You don’t get it,” I spit out, every word dripping with frustration. “I’m in charge of this whole event, this whole hotel. And you’re just sitting there, acting like I don’t know what I’m doing. Like I’m somehow screwing everything up, when I’m doing the best I can with what I’ve got!”
What am I even saying?
This isn’t even about him, but all my frustration has erupted, and I can’t control it.
“Sunny—” he begins, but I cut him off again, my hands shaking from the intensity of the emotions building in me.
“No, I need a moment. I can’t do this anymore.”
The silence hangs in the air. My chest is rising and falling, too fast, the adrenaline from the argument flooding my veins. For a moment, Ryder doesn’t speak. He’s standing there, still, eyes focused on me, his lips pressed tight.
And then, without another word, I turn and storm off, my footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.
I need to get away from him, away from this stupid gala and everything else. I need a second to breathe, to be somewhere that isn’t collapsing under the pressure of my panic.
I reach my door and slam it open, only to be met with the quiet comfort of my room. But even that’s not enough to calm the storm brewing inside me.
