Page 1 of A Merry Penthouse Christmas
Prologue
BEAU
“Deck the halls with boughs of holly
Fa la la la la, la la la—”
Urg.
It's been three days since Halloween, but what else did I expect?
A typical day for me is usually fairly routine.
Wasfairly routine. I suppose most of it still is.
Except for one thing.
“Next stop: Hudson Square,” the announcer’s voice blares over the subway speakers, temporarily overtaking the—in myopinion—far too early Christmas carol. “Next stop: Hudson Square.”
Two more stops to home. Well, two more stops to the apartment I can barely afford but have to rent by the month, because I don’t know where my next paycheck might be coming from. It’s been this way for a while. There is supposed to be a teacher shortage, yet I can’t seem to find a job in my field.
I’ve been subbing, and temping at call centers to make ends meet, which I hate, but I had to go and make my focus middle childhood education and history, and there are zero 6thgrade history teacher positions in this city. Even only months from completing my masters, I can’t get a bite, not for a steady job anyway. Another interview ending with, “We’ll let you know if anything opens up,” and I am going to become one of those screaming lunatics on the subway who everyone avoids.
Or one of the sobbing ones.
Maybe if I had a tie that wasn’t over ten years old from my first college interviews—and crap, is that a hole in my slacks?—I might make better impressions. Or I’m just unlucky. It certainly feels like the universe is out to get me lately.
I tug my equally threadbare jacket more tightly around me. I can’t zip it because the teeth snag and I can never get it undone again afterward. The weather lately is threatening to not even hit low fifties. Despite being only just past Halloween, Christmas decorations are already everywhere, and if the subway is playing “Deck the Halls,” you can bet that poking my head into one shop or another will mean my first forced listening of “All I Want for Christmas” long before Thanksgiving.
I usually love this time of year. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years—these are the good holidays, the exciting ones filled with food, fun, and family.
Or at least they used to be.
My phone buzzes, and I worry it’s another late fee notification for one of my many overdue bills, but it’s my brother calling. At least my original family is still there for me.
“Hey, Bell,” I answer.
“Hey! Have you, um… heard the news?” Bellamy asks.
My blood runs colder than the chill outside. With that tone and given what month it is, I know what he must mean. “She had the baby?”
“Today. It’s a girl.”
“Oh.” It’s not as if I care what gender the baby turned out to be, but to hear it feels so final.
“If you need to talk or just scream at someone—”
“I’m on the subway, Bell, and I hate being one of those people on their phones the whole trip. Can I, uh… call you back?”
“Job interview today?”
“Done anddud. Same old story.” I speak through the urge to grind my teeth. “We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Okay, Beau. I love you.”
“Love you too, Bell.”
I actually could use a scream, but not here. I probably won’t give in when I call Bellamy later either. I might be out of screams.
