You’re a Mean One, Ms. Grinch
SLOANE
December 15th, This Year
“What the hell…?” I nearly tripped over an ornament lying in the middle of the floor. “Shit.” I set my suitcase down and kicked the gold ball of glass down the hallway. To my right, I noticed the new tabletop Christmas tree near the staircase. “…is this?”
The Christmas music registered next, followed by the sound of giddy laughter and good cheer. Nothing I wanted to be part of today, or any day. My curse-filled rant about following instructions would have to wait, though, because I was expecting something important. I rummaged through my mail and my eyes landed on a blank envelope. Curious, I opened it. It damn sure wasn’t the contract I’d expected. I scanned the letter, reading it again just to be sure I’d comprehended it correctly. Actually, it wasn’t even a letter. It was more like a memo.
To: Sloane Wilson
From: Hyram Covington Jr.
Re: Us
When I envision my future, I don’t see you in it.
I need someone who will cater to me. You’re too independent to give a damn.
H
P.S. You’re fired.
This punk muthafucka. It wasn’t even the breakup that got me. He was right. I didn’t give a damn about him or his dick. But that job? Conceptual sketches, custom furniture pieces, textile recommendations, floorplans… I’d worked my ass off for the office space account at the Covington Corporation offices in Downtown Detroit. I should’ve known better than to mix business with pleasure.
“Sloane?” Courtney peeked her head around the corner. She held up a glass of something alcoholic. “Are you going to join us, or stand in the hallway the entire night?”
I pinched my nose, took in a deep breath, and met my sister’s gaze. No sense in wallowing in my misery without liquor, especially at my own party. I snatched the drink from her hand and downed the contents. “I thought I said no Christmas music. I don’t want to Fa La La anyone’s La right now.”Or ever.
“It’s way past time for you to let this go, sis. It’s been years.”
“As far as I’m concerned, it hasn’t been long enough.” It had been years all right.Yearsof tragedy, trauma, bad news, and disappointment. Ten years ago, I married my college sweetheart. My wedding had started with tears instead of joy, and it didn’t get better from there. The divorce set me free, though—same date, three years after I’d made the worst mistake of my life. So, I’d vowed to celebrate my freedom, my success, my life without him, every year. Because…Fuck him.
“Sloane, come on. It’s your party. Don’t go back there.”
I picked up a snowman figurine. “Look at this shit,” I grumbled. “The money spent on this could’ve been used for Patrón. It’s bad enough you decorated the house with—”
“Girl!!!” Courtney laughed and tugged on my arms. “Enough! It’s one snowman. Bring your ass in here. We’ve been waiting for hours. The food is getting cold.” She pulled me further into the house.
As expected, my big sister had done an impressive job settingamood. The food looked and smelled delicious, but all I wanted for this ladies’ night was less Mariah Carey and more Meg the Stallion. And…
Oh. My. God. There was a tree in my living room. And a Christmas-crazy display of lights and ornaments hanging from the ceiling. And garland spread along the mantle. And one stocking hanging above the fireplace. “Who did this?” I asked incredulously.
I scanned the faces of my guests—my sister and my cousins. They all pointed to the offender without a word.
My cousin Bliss raised her hand proudly. “I did.”
Not only was Bliss family, but she was also one of my best friends. Sweet, loyal, giving, kind… We’d grown up together, been there through every triumph, every victory. I found it very hard to be mad at her under any circumstance.
She held up the stocking with my name written in glitter across the top. “Mom did this, though.”
My shoulders fell. Now I felt like an asshole. An extremely ungrateful one too. Because I hated everything about this. Yet, there was no way I would ever tell my auntie, my bonus mom, that I hated her creation. But dammit, I needed answers. “Cousin?” I sighed. “Just… I have one small question.”
Bliss grinned. “Sure.”
“Why?” I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear. My goal every year was to throw anonChristmas,foreverSingle party. Period. There was no change of plans, no switch of the theme. I’d planned everything. Food, music, wine. And I’d left my plans in capable hands. Or so I thought.
She shrugged. “It’s Christmas.”
