that, though to date I have never had to call them.
Do not send me lingerie.
We had a progress meeting about the merger today. Well, I had a progress meeting with the legal and financial people, since my father saw fit to leave for lunch and not come back. I think I handled it pretty well, as I tend to do with situations that don’t involve engagements to strange men. It seems that things are progressing, legally, and once everything is final, the new company we create will do very well. I think we should keep The Christmas Experience’s website, because our website is better than yours. I also like our logo better.
We also have to figure out where the new company’s headquarters will be. Should it be based here in San Diego, or there in Denver? Obviously neither of us wants to move, but San Diego has nicer weather. I think the choice is obvious.
As I wrote this, the mail person came in with my office mail. Included are documents you are requesting I sign, outlining the plan for moving our headquarters to Denver. I see you’ve already made this decision without consulting me—or so you think. I’m not going to pack up my whole life and move just because you sent me a few papers. I don’t give up that easily, you ass. I’m not signing this.
Well, great. Now I’m so angry I can’t concentrate. I’m going to do a crossword puzzle—very vigorously—until I can work again.
Please go away,
Penelope
From: Wesley Kane
To: Penelope Gold
Subject: Re: You are insufferable
Penny,
Our fathers both seem to be missing in action, so let me make this negotiation as simple as possible:
The website: We’ll keep yours.
The logo: We’ll keep ours.
The headquarters: Definitely Denver.
The first reason we would move to Denver is painfully obvious, at least to me. You run a Christmas decoration business. In California.
Please. Do they even have Christmas there? Does anyone there understand the magic of Christmas lights against snow, of coming in from the cold to a cup of hot chocolate? Does anyone even know what a sleigh is? Does anyone in California even have a tree, a real one, with real lights and—wait for it—real ornaments on it?
Because we make real Christmas decorations at this company. Including real ornaments.
Don’t worry about any employees of The Christmas Experience who don’t want to make the move. We’ll offer them remote-work options or a package that is extremely generous—I’ve made sure of it. It’s all in the paperwork.
Here’s another reason for the move. You’ll like it here. Denver isn’t full of pretentious assholes, there’s lots to do, and it’s lots of fun. Well, more specifically, I’m lots of fun, and I’m here. As for the life you’re leaving behind—Jesus, were you serious about the crossword thing? I can’t believe a woman with hair as sexy as yours does crossword puzzles as a hobby. It really is a crime. Though I do like the mental picture of you putting a pencil to your lips and thinking behind those glasses. I’d walk up behind you, toss the pencil away, and make you forget all about 23 Down.
We wouldn’t need to get married to do that.
And now you’re mad again. I get it. Call HR if you want to, but I don’t think you will. I think you liked that image as much as I did, but you won’t admit it.
As for the merger, it’s going well on this end, too. I hired a new CFO—his first name is W.B., which he won’t explain, which makes him kind of mysterious. He’s restructuring the company’s finances. I’ve also hired a new ornament designer who I think may be an artistic genius. She’s a little off the wall, but with her designs in place, we’ll have product unlike any other company’s in time for this Christmas season. It could make all the difference.
When I ran these ideas by my father, all he said was, “I’ve been grooming you to take over the company since you were nineteen. I’m sure you can handle it.” Then I brought up the issue of a new contract to get us out of marriage. Apparently we can get one done, and if both your father and mine sign it, we can get out of this. But when I brought it up, my father said, “We’re doing this merger come hell or high water. Just marry her, for God’s sake. Get the hell out of my office.”
I’m working on it. We are not getting married.
In the