A Very Bossy Christmas - Kayley Loring Page 0,19

drink before I head back to the office. I nod at What’s-Her-Name from Down the Hall, and Broker from the Downtown Office with the Stupid Mustache. It’s great to see everyone here at this party. Just great.

“Another Jameson,” I order from the bartender. “Neat.”

Shapiro calls out to Cindy, the unbearably happy receptionist, and tells her she’s going to have to come over to him to open up her present. Because it’s so huge. He had a bunch of interns bring all eighty of the Secret Santa gifts over from the office, but he isn’t willing to carry one twenty-one-pound box over to a sweet middle-aged lady in a Rudolph sweater. I am not the only one who’s watching her open this big box—it’s bigger than all the others. Nobody’s jealous, though, because Cindy deserves it. She’s the heart of the corporate office. It’s annoying how relentlessly cheerful she is, but she means well.

She screams—actually screams—as soon as she tears off the wrapping and sees the top of the box. It’s one of those deluxe karaoke machines from Korea. She loves karaoke. Everyone knows this. Sure, it cost a little more than the twenty-dollar limit. Okay, it cost over eight hundred dollars more than the limit. What are they gonna do? Sue for overspending and being a more awesome gift-giver than everyone else? As general counsel, I’d advise against it.

Cindy is so happy, and for some reason, Maddie appears to be really happy for her. She goes over to hug her. Cindy’s crying. Happy tears—you’d think Justin Timberlake jumped out of the box and kissed her—but she’s crying. Which is awkward. She wants to know who her Secret Santa is, but no one’s coming forward to claim the reward for being the greatest guy at Sentinel and possibly in all of Manhattan.

Because seeing Cindy happy is reward enough.

I gulp down my whiskey, check my personal phone. There’s a text from my buddy Matt, asking if I’ll be at his party. I tell him I won’t be able to make it out to Brooklyn tonight. There’s a text from my sister, with a photo attachment of something deep-fried that our nonna is making her family for dinner. It might be a thumb. There’s a text from someone who has no business texting me now or ever again. I delete it without reading it. And I have no idea how long Cooper has been standing right behind me, but she keeps saying my name.

“Hi,” I say, shoving the phone back into my pocket. She looks like she’s about to tell me something really important.

And I am ready to hear it.

“There you are,” Drucker says, handing her a cup. “Try this. It’s incredible.”

She takes the cup from him, still staring at me, at whatever my face is doing. She takes a big gulp and then—spits it out. All over my shirt.

Merry fucking Christmas to me.

Ten

Maddie

SATAN BABY

What a baby.

Scratch the surface of every gorgeous, cocky man in this city, and that’s what you get. A big baby. Okay, so I sang a song about how mean he is in front of everyone we work with. It was a joke. It’s not like he cares what people think of him. Okay, so I spewed eggnog all over his beautiful face and shirt. It was an accident.

I immediately offered to take the shirt to the cleaners for him. But he just pulled those socks that Drucker had given him out of his jacket pocket, dabbed at his face and shirt with them, and left. Didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t even find it a little bit funny. It’s not like I had done it on purpose to make him laugh—but come on.

And to think I was feeling badly for him after I saw the look on his face when I had finished singing the Grinch song. Those sad eyes. That expression of—what? Longing? Wistfulness? It was so unlike him. I thought I was getting a glimpse into his soul for once.

To think I was about to tell him I would go with him to Ohio. Pretend to be his girlfriend for a few days. Because I do realize what a bind he must be in if he actually asked me to do this. He doesn’t take things like this lightly. That’s why he’s a good lawyer. But that doesn’t make him a good person. It’s not like he sent flowers to my landlady because he’s such a sweet guy. I know how he thinks. He did it because