Page 79 of Babies for the Christmas Grump
“Obviously,” I reply, dripping with mock seriousness. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to meet the man who’s basically living inside Excel right now?”
Marjorie grins, eyes lighting up at the idea. “I need to see the legend for myself. Let’s hope he doesn’t look like one of those grumpy corporate guys who lives on black coffee and spreadsheets.”
I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Trust me, that’s basically his vibe. But be warned, you might like him. He has this… weird, brooding charm, and he’s kind of a sucker for a good cause.”
Marjorie raises an eyebrow, like she’s already sizing him up in her mind. “Mmm, I like a good challenge. Let me see if I can crack that icy exterior like you have…”
Before I can respond, the sound of heavy footsteps echoes through the hallway. I turn to see Ryder walking toward us, a clipboard in his hand, looking the same as he always does—seriously put together.
But there’s something about the way he moves, like everything around him is just a bit more… controlled. His eyes flick toward me, then shift to Marjorie, and there’s that moment of hesitation.
She doesn’t miss a beat, standing up and extending her hand with her usual dramatic flair. “Ryder, I presume? I’m Marjorie. The chaotic, loud friend who’s about to make your life so much better.”
I can practically hear Ryder’s brain trying to process her in real time. He pauses for a second, sizing her up, before his lips curl into the smallest, most reluctant smile. “I… yes. That would be me.”
Marjorie leans forward slightly, her smile mischievous. “I gotta say, you look way more… human than I was expecting. No offense, but spreadsheets and the title of ‘CFO’ didn’t really scream ‘charming.’”
I nearly choke on my breath, both from laughing and from seeing Ryder’s unamused expression soften just a bit. He might be a master of the poker face, but I see the flicker of laughter in his eyes.
“Well, glad to surprise you,” he replies, a little smoother than usual. “It’s good to have you here.”
I watch them for a moment, pleased by the dynamic unfolding between them. Ryder’s no longer as hard-edged as he usually is when dealing with me. Something about Marjorie’s energy seems to loosen him up, even if just a little.
Marjorie, never one to miss an opportunity to poke fun at the seriousness in the room, gives Ryder a wink.
“Well, I’m glad you’re not a robot.” She turns to me with an exaggerated whisper. “I was starting to think you were really into spreadsheets, Sunny.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m grateful for the lightheartedness Marjorie brings. Ryder’s smile grows faintly, something small yet undeniably real, even if he’s trying to play it cool.
“So,” Marjorie continues, as Ryder heads back to work, “what’s the plan, boss?” She winks at me, her eyes already scanning the room, mentally drafting a blueprint for the gala. “Gotta have it all… the flowers, the lights, the vibes. Let’s get to gala prep.”
I laugh, feeling a weight lift off me already.
“Well, we’ve got the main ballroom for the event, but we need to finalize the decorations and guest list before the first round of vendors arrives. The flowers, too… Marjorie, you’re on that.”
“Say less,” she replies with a snap of her fingers. “I’ve got this.”
I head toward the kitchen, my mind already calculating the logistics of the gala and making sure we’re on track: the catering, the staff schedule, everything.
I take a deep breath, trying to cool myself down.This is fine,I tell myself.I’ve handled worse.
But the more I try to focus, the more I feel… off. And the more I try to ignore it, the worse I feel.
I really don’t want to, especially with my best friend here, but it’s hard.
I make my way back into the main lobby, trying to push through it.Just keep working.You don’t have time to feel sick.
Marjorie’s already fluttering around, throwing herself into the details. The woman has more energy than five people combined.
“Sunny,” she calls from across the room. “What do you think of this? Too much greenery for the centerpieces? I’m thinking of making it look like a Christmas forest exploded in here.”
I laugh softly, but the dizziness is getting worse. I clutch the counter to steady myself as the room shifts slightly. I blink hard, trying to shake it off, a wave of nausea rising in my stomach.
Okay, maybe I should sit down for a second…
I take a few wobbly steps toward one of the chairs in the corner, but before I can sit down, the dizziness intensifies.
The room is spinning, my vision blurring at the edges like I’m underwater, and I suddenly can’t seem to catch my breath. It’s like the floor is sliding out from under me.
