Time to mentally reframe.
I’m going to enjoy my last day with Paxton before he leaves for vacation with Alyssa and Barry tomorrow morning.
Dad dick has been deprioritized.
Cleo is not getting kissed on the lips today.
Simon gets to live.
“Miss Jones, please read the script you have been assigned to read. I have to go downstairs to fetch my son.” I wrap my arm around Simon’s shoulder, leading him out the door. “Walk with me, Simon…”
11
CLEO
Iam ninety-five percent certain that Elijah did not murder the security guard or have him killed or injured or threatened or fired simply because the man was kind enough to bring me a coffee drink. And I really hope he didn’t do any of those things. But I also don’t hate that he was being so possessive of me. And I really don’t hate the way he delicately kissed my face right before we were interrupted.
I don’t even hate that he’s being such a bossy grumpyface with me again because he’s such a sweetheart with his son.
I wish he’d let Paxton hang out with me, but he marched him directly into his private office as soon as he got here and shut the door, ordering me to finish reading theUntitled Christmas Projectscript ASAP and then report back to him.
I’m speedreading through the script, and Elijah is definitely going to hate what I have to say about it.
Literally as soon as I reach the wordsFADE OUTon the last page of the script, my phone vibrates with a text notification.
ELIJAH
Have you finished reading the script yet?
ME
Just finished!
ELIJAH
Why didn’t you tell me?
ME
I literally just finished and now I’m telling you.
ELIJAH
Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
That was Paxton. I will be right out to discuss your thoughts on the script.
The door opens, and Elijah steps out, tugging on the sleeves of his suit jacket. “Did anyone call?”
“No. Do people usually call your office on the Sunday before Christmas?”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t be impertinent, Miss Jones.” He notices the Scout Elf sitting at the edge of my desk. “Why is there an elf on this desk? Did you move the one from my office?” He looks back inside his office, spotting the other elf that’s still on his shelf. “How many elves did you bring?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Abrams. These Scout Elves are here to keep an eye on you and Paxton, and they will report back to Santa tonight to inform him of your behavior. We aren’t supposed to touch him. If we do, he’ll lose his magic.”
I watch him struggle to prevent himself from smiling, the poor man. His facial muscles are no match for my delightfulness. “Whatever. What did you think of the script? Give me the headlines. I’ll want notes tomorrow. Did you write notes on the script?”
“I made some notes, yes.”
