How the Hitman Stole Christmas - Sam Mariano Page 0,7
absently fiddling with the strap. The tone of her voice drops, so I can tell this is a topic that makes her sad. “My grandparents raised me, but they’ve both passed, so it’s usually just me for the holidays. A couple friends have extended pity invites after awkward, foot-in-mouth moments where they asked about my holiday plans only to realize I didn’t have any, but… I obviously didn’t want to take them up on those.”
“Yeah, those don’t hold much appeal for me either. I’ve got a couple of colleagues with friendly wives who try to take me in for Christmas, too. My boss’ wife knows she can’t invite every lonely soul on his payroll over for dinner, so she makes Christmas care packages for us instead.”
Which, to be fair, some of them really like—even if they pretend they don’t. The kinds of men who do this type of work don’t typically have families worthy of Hallmark movies to go home to. Those Christmas cookies and other goodies she sends might be the only touch of holiday warmth a lot of us get.
For most of us, Christmas is just like any other time of year. For some, it’s a touch lonelier.
“That’s thoughtful,” Autumn says. “My boss recycles Christmas decorations and acts like it literally kills her to throw an office party each year.”
“Where do you work?”
“At a bank. I’m a teller.”
“And your ex, what does he do?”
She frowns. “My ex?”
Shit. “Uh, sorry. Brady, I think you said was his name? The boyfriend you came home with.”
“Oh. We actually met at the bank. He’s a finance guy.”
That explains it. Finance guys are always assholes.
I suppose a lot of people think men in my line of work are always assholes, too, but a lot of us are pretty stand-up guys if you really get to know us.
“I’m usually single for Christmas. When Brady asked me to come home with him this year, I was floored. I thought for sure this year would be different,” Autumn says, drawing my attention back to her. “I had these silly daydreams about showing up at his mom and dad’s house, and his mom would be waiting with open arms, and his dad would smile, and…” She trails off, shaking her head at her own dashed hopes and looking out the window. “I guess I built it up to be more than it was. My own fault. I should’ve gone in with more modest expectations.”
I make a mental note to text my sister later and coach her about enthusiastically greeting my new girlfriend when I bring her home, make sure she feels welcome. I also need to update her on the name since I’m not bringing a Sierra, but an Autumn.
“You wanted to feel like part of his family.”
Autumn looks back over at me with a sad little smile and nods. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I was hoping for.”
“Makes sense. Everyone wants to feel part of something.”
She falls quiet for a minute or so, then looks back over at me. “Enough about me, though. What about you? I assume you live around here—any big holiday getaway plans, or is your family local?”
“They used to be. My mom moved to Minnesota a few years ago. I’m actually about to head up that way tonight. I was on my way home to pack up the car when I saw you sitting here, stranded.”
She looks over at me and smiles. “Imagine that. I guess I caught you right in the nick of time.”
I meet her gaze and smile back. “You sure did.”
Chapter Four
Autumn
We’ve been on the road for a while before we finally pull into a dimly lit parking lot that must be attached to Jasper’s apartment building. The roads were worse until we got closer, but while Brady’s family lives in a suburb outside of Chicago, Jasper lives right in the city where the plows have actually put in effort to keep up with the snow.
He turns off the engine when we get into the parking lot—I imagine he needs his apartment key—but he tells me to stay put, that he’ll only be a minute or two. I don’t know if we’re in a safe part of town or not, but he also tells me to lock the doors and not to unlock them until he comes back, so I’m guessing probably not.
I try texting Brady again, but I still don’t have signal.
That doesn’t seem right. Out in the middle of nowhere, sure, but we’re in the city now.