"I can't just tell them who to pick," I whispered to her. She was close to me, her hands fiddling with the buttons on my suit coat. I could smell the bourbon on her as her fingers laced into my tie. I let her pull me down until our faces were inches apart, then she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed me on the mouth. People might see us, but I didn't care. I pulled her close and let her melt into me. One of the production assistants giggled, and I drew back. I might not care if people saw us, but Chloe might. At least she might when she was sober.
"Everyone's going to see," I told her as she reached up to kiss me again.
"I'm sloshed," she said as she leaned into my chest.
"I can tell. Maybe you should go sleep it off."
"I had to taste the eggnog," she said, "and the brandy sauce. It was very alcoholic."
"I see that. Maybe you should eat something," I told her.
"I'm drunk!" she said again, giggling. I wondered if that was the only reason she was kissing me in public. Maybe she would think I was taking advantage of her.
One of the production assistants came over and led her away for post-challenge interviews.
Filming had ended a bit late that day. Instead of going into the office, I went to my penthouse and answered emails then looked in my fridge. Chloe's leftovers were still there. I smiled to myself when I thought about how tipsy she was.
There was a knock on the door. Milo barked.
"That better not be Hartleigh," I said as I checked the security camera.
Liam waved.
"How’s my favorite Christmas Scrooge?" Liam said, slapping me on the back when I opened the door. "Missed you at the office today."
"Were you even there?" I countered, following Liam into my kitchen.
"Of course," he said. "Someone has to make sure Santa has enough Platinum Provisions baking equipment to put under every Christmas tree. Not that I’m not happy to see you in the Christmas spirit."
He rummaged around my kitchen and found Chloe's leftovers.
"Who made you this?" he demanded. He grabbed a fork and speared a piece of the leftover macaroni and cheese. "This is so good."
"That’s mine!" I said.
"Sharing is caring!" Liam said, blocking me from taking back the container. I wanted to fight him for the food, but I didn't want it to end up on the floor. "Did that crappy chef delivery service make this?"
"No," I said, taking the container away from him and cradling it. It seemed wrong to beg Chloe to cook for me, but that was what I wanted: her here every night making dinner, wearing one of those ridiculous outfits, and drinking an eggnog martini.
Liam made a face at me. "So…"
"So what?"
"Who made it? You're acting like that’s the last meal you're ever going to eat."
"Chloe made it," I told him, "and it might be the last meal she makes me."
"Why?"
"Just…" I didn't want to explain, so I changed the subject. "Why are you here?"
"So this Christmas stuff had me thinking," Liam said. "We rely too much on factories that we don't control to manufacture our product."
"We outsource it because it's cheaper," I said.
"Is it, though? My half-brothers have all that land out in the western part of the state. They have the hydropower infrastructure in place, and there's an active freight rail that goes there. What if we built a factory out there and started in-house production?"
"I don't know," I said. "That seems risky."
