My stomach churns, though that might be the result of one too many cookies I ate for breakfast. I hope Santa is good tomy colleagues after all the homemade treats they brought in to share. At least my two-pound bag of red and green peanut M&M’s has been a big hit. If only I could send a bag of candy to my folks’ house in my place.
I perk up. If I eat enough here and stop for takeout on my way home, I can probably survive another night in my wintry-cold apartment. Waking with icicles on my eyelashes won’t be fun on Christmas morning, but at least I won’t have to deal with my family.
I weigh the pros and cons, my mind doing what it does to earn praise from our clients. Would waking up to North Pole temperatures be that bad or make it a Christmas to remember?
A meow sounds, reminding me I’m not the only one affected by my decision. I glance at the crate under my desk again. “Do you want to spend tonight at your grandparents’ house or at home?”
Powerfluff does her best grumpy expression, and I try not to laugh. “I get it. You’re too much of a diva to tolerate freezing-cold temperatures for two nights in a row.”
My cat closes her eyes, her fluffy body nestled cozily in her crate, as if to say, “Keep earning money so you can afford to buy treats, my minion.”
I smile at the regal tilt of her head. She’s the queen of our apartment—and no doubt believes she rules my office too. She probably thinks they turned on the forced-air heating just for her.
I envy her ability to just curl up and shut out the world. Maybe I should’ve been born a cat. No one would expect anything from me other than being adorable and occasionally knocking things off tables.
Not that I blame her for wanting to be warm. I prefer that myself.
Maybe what I need are more cookies and another cup of coffee to get through the morning…
Anna, my boss’s executive assistant, pops her head into my office. Her reindeer antlers light up with tiny red bulbs, bouncing cheerily as she grins at me. “Mr. Barrington wants to see you.”
Of course he does. Merry Christmas to me. Better make that a blue Christmas.
I groan inwardly. Somehow, I’ve ended up at the top of Mr. Barrington’s naughty list. I wish I knew why. He transferred here in July, and since then, it’s been clear he hates me. That’s not an exaggeration.
The weight of impending doom presses against my shoulders. “What did I do this time?”
Anna shrugs. “No idea.”
I lock Powerfluff’s crate and double-check it to make sure she can’t escape again. “Stay put,” I whisper.
I’m met with the sight of her backside—the quintessential cat move. She only acknowledges my existence when she’s ready for mealtime or I have treats.
I grab my tablet off the desk, ready for a list of things that might guarantee me job security.
“Is he in a good mood, at least?” I ask, half hoping for a Christmas miracle.
“Not really.” Anna rolls her eyes as if she’s had a front-row seat to his “bah-humbug” antics. “But then again, he doesn’t seem like a huge fan of the holidays.”
“He did cancel this year’s Secret Santa and Christmas lunch.”
“You tried to get him to change his mind,” she says with a hint of sympathy in her voice.
“He already hates me, so why not?”
“Your efforts were noted.”
Her words make me wonder. “Does that mean people have changed their bets on when I’ll be fired?”
Anna’s cheeks flush, and her mouth hangs open like she just saw Powerfluff fly. “You know about the, um, pool?”
I nod with a mischievous grin, thinking “pool” is a more polite way of saying they’ve all bet on my employment. Honestly, I’ve been eyeing that pool too. After being hit with a six-hundred-dollar vet bill for my feline diva—who was not suffering from a serious gastro issue, but punishing me for working late two nights in a row—I could use a windfall to rebuild my savings account.
“Not all the juicy details,” I admit, playing it cool while internally cringing at the thought of my so-called friends wagering on the expiration date of my employment. “I stumbled across a few conversations in the break room that clued me in.”
Anna gives me a tight-lipped smile, and I try not to laugh, because Powerfluff smiles more naturally than that. “You know how people are here.”
I didn’t until I overheard my name being mentioned. Now, I wonder if I’ve been a punchline to everyone at the office and not just since Mr. Barrington’s transfer from corporate headquarters to oversee our branch.
