The Christmas Grinch - Rebel Hart Page 0,18

this time of year is part of what eats away at the Christmas spirit too?”

I blinked cluelessly. “What are you talking about?”

“You ordering your family around, staring at your phone screen more than them, arranging everything to look just right...It’s an awful lot of energy just for superficial appearances. And it’s a mighty big distraction from what seems like the most important part...Like, you know, being present and spending time with your family.”

My jaw dropped, and I was very close to going off. “Are you accusing me of…”

“Goodnight, Hazel,” he smirked, reaching across me to open my cab door.

“You’re just going to say all that and then shove me out of the car?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he paused. “Did you want to come back to my place?”

It was a sarcastic offer, meant to get under my skin...and it worked. In fact, if his entire goal was to piss me off...that had worked too.

I stormed out of the backseat and stood on the sidewalk, swishing my scarf back over my shoulder. “I’m not done with you yet, Chris Palmer.”

He waved with a devilish little gleam and shut the door, ordering the driver to take off right away. I watched them drive off until I was shivering in the cold night air, before finally going inside my place to warm up.

But everything he said ate at me for the rest of the night. I had plenty of reasons to despise Chris, but putting a damper on my family’s annual crafting night had to be near the top of the list.

8

Chris

Once I got back to my place, I couldn’t wait to crack open a beer and relax. That tiny frilly apron mixed with Hazel and her family and all that fucking glitter and popcorn and Christmas music...it was nauseating. My head was still spinning as I plopped down on the couch, drink in hand.

I’m not done with you yet, Chris Palmer. The line replayed in my head, and I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. Hazel Malone was nothing if not spunky and full of passion...maybe a little too much passion. But then again what was too much? I figured I was the wrong person to ask.

But I was feeling more conflicted than ever on the whole predicament of Christmas. She wasn’t going to quit until I found at least something I loved about it, if not the whole damn thing. And appeasing her was proving to be harder than I thought. I had lied in business meetings or spun the truth to make investors happy. Why was lying to her so impossible?

The only way out of this time suck, responsible for more recent headaches than I could count...and we were only just getting started, was to make my peace with the blasted holiday. I doubted crafting nights or much of anything else Hazel had up her sleeves was going to do the trick. Then again, I seemed to be great at underestimating just how far she’d go with anything.

I sat and looked back over my childhood and everything after that. There was no point when I could remember Christmas feeling particularly magical or special to me. For that matter, there wasn’t a point when it stopped being that way either. It was just one long string of apathy, year after year.

Our family always celebrated the same way - with my mom’s giant Christmas gala. Their big annual party, which was more like a ball, gave Dad a chance to show his appreciation to those with interests in the department stores around the country, and to schmooze with potential investors or future shareholders. It was just another means of business networking for him, and ever since I was a boy...he used it as an opportunity to train me in his ways.

Mom was active in a lot of charities and used the party to boost the family’s image along with raising money for causes...Causes that didn’t seem important to her as much as they seemed to play an important role in her reputation. Then there was my sister, Ann, who decided she wanted to be a lawyer at age five. She first used the parties to make contacts that could help her get into the best schools, then she used them to help her fish for big cases, clients, and contracts.

The whole thing was one big business transaction more than an actual holiday get together, but I never remembered having ill feelings towards it. It was just a thing that happened every year, and even