Bennett can’t help that he invented a computer component that increases memory speed or even that he sold the patent and will receive royalties for life. Tiff can’t help that she and her husband built a dude ranch that was featured in two films and is booked year-round.
Irritated at myself as well as the holiday traffic, I try to find music on the radio that matches my mood. Mariah's chirpy voice isn’t cutting it. I switch and find Vahvuus, a rock band whose hard music fills my brain.
In the quiet of the night, I'm lost in my thoughts / Searching for answers, but the questions won't stop / You're the fire in my veins / the spark in my soul
Fuck. That. I don’t need to think about Atlanta right now.
I shut off the radio and see a car backing out which is super close, so I can just run in, grab a I’m sorry gift for Atlanta, and run back out. I don’t want her to be mad at me. Before the car can even drive past, I whip into its spot, park, and jump out of the truck, frustrated that I’m even here.
Normally my assistant buys gifts from me and Carter, taking care to personalize each and every one. But for everything Atlanta’s done for me, I want to make her gift good. I’m thinking a cashmere travel wrap from the boutique near The Velvet Book. My sister’s been raving about hers.
As I step off the curb, a car honks at me, yanking me out of my thoughts. A woman in a green SUV rolls down her window and stares at me, her four-year-old daughter in the backseat.
"I've been waiting for that space. My blinker was on."
To be honest, I didn't notice the blinker, but I don't have time for this. I point to my watch then to a space opening up a few spots down and keep going. She shouts from her window.
"Santa's watching, buddy!”
I keep walking, a little spooked by what the woman said. She'll find another spot. But as I open the boutique door, the Santa from yesterday catches my eye three stores down. Today’s he’s wearing green denim and a khaki coat, but it’s definitely him. He points to the woman now parking her car, shakes his head, and pulls out a small notebook, making an exaggerated mark.
“Are you coming inside?” The salesperson rubs her arms to ward off the cold air that I’m letting in.
I nod, a strange sense of foreboding sitting low in my gut. I find the wrap, choosing a pale green that will fit all seasons, and have the store gift-wrap it for me, Mariah’s festive music taunting me as I leave.
A light snow has begun to fall, my boots crunching as I slide into the truck. Glad to be out of the cold, I press start, but nothing happens. I try several times before popping the hood and testing the battery. Dead. Which I don’t understand because I just got it last season.
“Need a jump?”
It’s the woman from earlier, the one in the SUV.
“Uh, no. That’s alright.”
She watches me with interest, her daughter’s bright blue eyes blinking from the backseat. “It’s the neighborly thing to do.” She puts on her hazards and pops the hood of her car.
“Thanks.”
I hook up the jumper cables, and head to her window, which she rolls down a crack. “Listen, about before. I’m sorry. I saw your blinker, but I was in a hurry. I should have been more aware of your time than mine and moved to let you have your spot.”
She smiles the same big grin as her daughter from the back seat. “Thank you.”
Her easy forgiveness makes me think of Atlanta, who I've been stringing along for months. She deserves better than my excuses. My truck starts immediately, and as I drive off, I swear that’s the Santa a few blocks down, in the same green pants and khaki coat, his judgmental blue eyes watching me from behind his round spectacles.
Chapter 4
Atlanta
Penny stares at me from across the desk, blinking.
“I don’t understand.”
I smile because I really like her, and she’s got such potential. I try a different tactic. “Holden expects the design team to come in the day after Thanksgiving.”
Penelope has only been with the firm for less than a year, and it is not standard protocol to work in our industry to work the day after Thanksgiving. But because there are incredible Black Friday sales, our boss decided that the firm comes in so that the design team can dedicate Friday and Monday to getting the best deals as possible for our clients.
“But I already made plans.” Her doe-eyes water up, which is a little annoying to tell the truth.
I sigh, my patience wearing thin. “This was discussed in our both our September and October monthly meetings, with follow-up emails. The expectation is that we work on Friday. Holden won’t approve days off for our department. We’ll get a note put in our file.”
