I do not have the patience for this today.
“Come,” I told the dog. “We’ll wait inside for the dog walker.”
Merrie paused. “You’re not my client, are you?” she demanded
“I will never pay you to do anything for me,” I assured her, opening the door to my office building.
Merrie followed me inside.
“I’m supposed to be walking a St. Bernard.” She held out her phone to me. “See? I accepted the job.”
I looked down at Kringle. He was panting.
“Consider your service no longer needed.”
Kringle whined and shifted on his feet.
“He needs to go to the little boys’ room.” She petted the dog. “Or the big boys’ room because you’re thebiggest, goodest boy.”
I forced myself to relax my jaw.
“Fine.” I handed her the leash. “Make sure you walk him several miles. He needs the exercise.”
I turned on my heel and headed upstairs, not waiting for her to respond.
I could not take Merrie. She was Christmas incarnate, and I had already had enough of Christmas on Black Friday, yet we still had several more weeks of the holiday season to go.
I’m not going to make it.
“This holiday,” I said to Eli. I stood at the window that overlooked Main Street.
I blinked.
“Why is there a giant wreath in this window?”
Eli shrugged. “One of the secretaries won it in the raffle.”
I shook my head.
I watched Merrie and Kringle as they walked on the street below. Somehow, in the last few minutes, she had procured a large red ribbon and tied it into a giant bow around Kringle’s neck. It was like a Christmas postcard, Merrie in her red coat and the St. Bernard trotting beside her.
I scowled.
Then Kringle sat down heavily in the middle of Main Street, and Merrie jerked to a halt. I smirked as she started cajoling the dog.
He lay down.
I grinned.
As if she knew I was watching, she looked up at me and made an exasperated gesture.
It was the same expression she had made last night when I had seen her with barely any clothes on, just the little shorts and the little tank top, her nipples pressing against the thin fabric.
You have got to get it together.
20
Merrie
