I HATE that you never let my favorite cousin Jenna come home for Christmas, and I hope Santa sticks hot coal up your ass this year.
Elizabeth
Iwasn’t sure whether to laugh at this person or file charges.
Confused, I went through my sent box. I didn’t see any emails about not letting Jenna have off for the holidays, and last I checked, she always volunteered to work through them.
I was about to tell “Elizabeth” that I was seconds away from filing harassment charges against her, but I caught the issue.
There, at the very bottom of her email, was a message from “me.”
Dear Miss Dawson,
As we discussed before, you are NOT allowed to have the holidays off, and quite frankly, you don’t even deserve to have the weekends off.
Nothing has changed about my policy this year.
Enjoy working here through Christmas with everyone else.
Happy holidays.
Nicholas Saint
What the hell?
“Miss Dawson!” I called out her name and instantly regretted it when she appeared in my doorway.
Today, her dress was a deep red, paired with matching stockings and stilettos I wanted wrapped around my waist.
“Yes, Mr. Saint?” she asked. “What demeaning task can I happily do for you at this moment?”
“Why are you fraudulently logging into my email account to tell your family you can’t go home for the holidays?”
“Huh?” Her cheeks reddened in shades of guilt, and I just knew she was about to try to lie to my face.
“You logged into my account to make me look evil to your family.”
“First of all, youareevil,” she said. “Second of all, I did no such thing.”
“So, you’re fine with me clearing things up with your little cousin?”
“Which little cousin was it?”
I gave her a blank stare.
“I don’t want to go home this year, okay?” She held up her hands in a slight surrender. “I’ve had back-to-back shitty-ass years, and the last thing I need is my family’s brand of over-the-top cheer and tradition… Plus, I’m avoiding a marriage pact that I wish I never made.”
“Awhatpact?” I leaned forward. “You’re dating someone who wants to marry you?”
“I said, like, multiple things before that.”
“I’m highly concerned with the last one…”
“I would appreciate it if you didn’t respond to my cousin and just let my family continue to think you’re an evil CEO who hates Christmas,” she said, stepping into the hall. “Oh, and your mom should be on line one in five seconds.”
Before I could tell her to come back and give me all the details of this “marriage pact” she’d never revealed until just now, my line sounded.
“Nicholas Saint speaking,” I answered.
