Chapter 5
brINKER
The phone buzzes against my hand. I’ve been a zombie all day. Unable to think after that kiss. But then there’s also the HR thing. I own the business, but that doesn’t mean I can dip my pen in the company ink. It doesn’t look good. Jenna’s going to want to talk and what can I say.
I had to… it was the mistletoe!
Like that’ll work?!
I answer the phone and I can hear my grandmother Victoria’s voice crackling through the line. “Brinker, how is your search for the holiday spirit going?”
I exhale slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know, Grandma. It’s not something you can just look for and find. It’s not a missing sock.”
Her laughter is warm, like the sun spilling through a window. “Oh, sweetheart, I disagree. The holiday spirit is everywhere if you just open your heart to it.”
Her optimism feels distant, like a delicate balloon floating far from my reach. A weight settles in my chest as I recall the years of high expectations, the relentless push to perform, to excel, as if worthiness is measured in accomplishments alone.
“I guess… I’m still working on it,” I admit, letting the uncertainty wash over me.
Silence lingers for a moment, before she adds gently, “Sometimes, it’s about recognizing the small moments, dear. Don’t give up.”
Just as those words settle into a comfortable echo, I hear a familiar voice call out from the other side of the office.
It’s Iclyn, rounding the corner, her eyes bright and playful. “Hey, we’re having a holiday Twister game in the hallway… you in?”
Something stirs inside me at the sight of her, an unexpected warmth blooming in the pit of my stomach. I grin, feeling the weight of my grandmother’s concern begin to lift.
“Who’s that?” she asks through the phone.
I glance over at Iclyn, with her silky hair catching the light and that mischievous spark in her sky-blue eyes, I’m not just thinking about holiday spirit anymore.
It’s definitely something more.
I can feel it now, wrapping around me in strands of hope, something that feels precious and real.
I chuckle, unable to contain my new realization.
“I think it’s the spirit of the holiday,” I answer, my voice lighter than before. I look back at Iclyn as she leans in playfully, a challenge glimmering in her eyes and a quick flick of her eyebrows, inviting me to join the fun.
And with that invitation, the idea of the holiday spirit transforms in my mind. It’s in these moments, the laughter, the lightness of being known and understood— even in a game of Twister.
“I’ll talk to you later, Grams.” I hit “End,” throwing it aside to stand and move around the desk.
Iclyn moves closer, brushing her shoulder against mine, and I savor that glimmer of connection. “You’re missing a mad competitive game of holiday Twister, Brinker.”
Every moment with her is fresh, different from the suffocating expectations I’ve carried for so long. We lock eyes, and before I realize what’s happening, I lean in, my heart racing as her lips are just a breath away.
I close my eyes and let myself dive into another kiss.
It’s soft and tentative at first, a dance of hesitation that dissolves with every shared heartbeat.
And then it deepens, a kiss that tastes like hope, full of all the things I thought I’d never have in life.
The world blurs around us, and in this moment, everything coalesces— the twinkling lights, the laughter from the hallway, and the distant echo in my mind from my grandmother’s voice.
It’s not about finding some elusive spirit anymore.
It’s about being present and getting to know myself and maybe someone else.
Painting the days with every stroke of newfound joy. And as we pull away, breathless and smiling, I feel it…
A spark of holiday wonder igniting inside me.
“Go to dinner with me…” I say, nuzzling her ear.
The warm glow of candlelight flickers between us on the polished wooden table, casting playful shadows that dance on the red and gold walls behind us.
I glance across at Iclyn, her eyes wide as they wander over the menu, obviously feeling slightly out of her depth in this upscale little restaurant.
She fidgets with the delicate silk napkin in her lap.
I can’t help but notice how stunning she looks— like she’s stepped right out of a magazine, but somehow she’s all the more captivating for the slight unease that flickers across her features.
It’s honesty. It’s curiosity. And it’s adorable.
She plays with the necklace dropping delicately into her decollate.
She’s wearing it…
“I don’t know what to pick,” she admits, biting her lip in that way that draws my gaze to her mouth. “Everything sounds so… exquisite and exotic. How do you choose?”
“It’s okay,” I reassure her, smiling as I suppress a laugh.
“Just pick whatever sounds the best and has the flavors that are familiar to you. It might be surprising, but I grew up in a small town in the mountains —Everville— where ‘fancy’ meant the steakhouse down the road had plastic red and white checkered tablecloths and there was A-1 on the tables. The next best steakhouse didn’t have the A-1.
They only had ketchup, so that meant something.
Tonight is an adventure, but I don’t think they’ll have A-1 or ketchup here. ”
This little Indian cuisine restaurant is Michelin star, James Beard Award Winning, talk-of-the-town stuff. It’s… pretentious and almost a little too much for me, too.
“I love A-1.” She mumbles and her gaze meets mine. “So you’re not used to this fancy stuff either?”
“Not really. I mean, I’ve had to learn to like it since I have to take our bigger accounts out to dinner and try to recruit the best of the best for the company, but I’d still rather have a beer and burger.”
“Then why didn’t you pick that?”
“I…” I swallow. “I wanted to pick something that was special, because I think you’re special, Iclyn.”
“But I like burgers. Really like them.”
I should have known. She’s down to earth, honest, and she’s real.
“You want to head out?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” She grabs her bag from the table and quickly stands.
I throw a couple bills on the table for the opportunity to sit there and take a few sips of water, and we head out onto the streets of Charlotte, North Carolina.
“Any suggestions?” I ask.
Her face lights up again. “Yes!” She grabs my hand and pulls me down the street and around the corner.
“I bet you’ve never been here.” She points.
“Rudy’s Winter Wonderland?” I read the blinking sign that’s hanging from wire wrapped in gold, red, and green garland.
“It’s a pop-up brew pub.”
“What is that?”
She squeezes my hand and I swear the motion pumps that beating muscle in my chest.
“You’ll see. My friends and I came here last weekend and it was really fun.”
We head inside and if I thought the office had vomited the holidays, this… this is that on steroids. It’s a red and green, bulbs and garland, snowman, Santa, snowflake, candy cane and more extravaganza. And the music…
Oh, God, the music…
“Do you have reservations?” the hostess asks.
Iclyn leans in and says something quietly to the hostess they both laugh.
“Well then, that changes everything. Right this way,” the woman dressed as an elf nods over her shoulder.
“What did you say to her?” I lean down and whisper in Iclyn’s ear, taking in her shortbread cookie scent.
“I told her that as a grinch and were the perfect thing to fit into their holiday scenery.”
Then I see where she’s leading us…
The Grinch’s lair and I get to sit in a giant red velvet chair.
“Great,” I say unceremoniously.
Iclyn giggles as she sits on the other end of the table and the hostess hands us the menus.
It’s simple.
Burgers— three kinds.
Fries— two kinds.
One dessert choice.
They have a bigger drink menu than anything.
She gets the Santa Special, a regular burger with extra pickles —imagine that— regular fries, and a local craft brew that’s named Rudy’s Red Ale. I get the Swiss Mushroom Burger with the spicy fries, and an Old Fashioned that’s aptly named the Ole Santa. We stare at each other across the table.
She bites the side of her lip. “They encourage people to amble around and take pictures with all the different backdrops and settings while their food’s being made.”
“Do you want to?”
She stands. “Of course, but if you don’t,” she says as she starts to sit down and I hate that my past attitude dampens even a moment of her experience.
I could be the grinch that she thinks I am, or I could step out of that costume and try a new suit.
“No, let’s do this. Plus, I look good in green.”
“Yes, you do,” she says softly, but I hear it.
We make the rounds. There’s a life-sized Santa sled and they dress Iclyn up as Mrs. Claus and me as…
an elf. The next stop we get to pose amongst a candy cane forest. And the last one we visit as our order is being delivered to our area is snowflake heaven.
It’s a room that’s got over three thousand snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, creating a maze.
She starts out at a fast pace and I quickly lose her.
My heart starts to beat fast. I’m not sure why, but I don’t like her being out of my sight.
It’s like I want to have her with me and around me and beside me.
“Iclyn?”
But there’s no answer.
“Icyln, are you okay?”
No answer.
My heart is now jumping in my chest like a frog on hot concrete.
I feel a poke on my shoulder and I jump.
She giggles. “I’m right here, Brinker.”
I wrap my arms around her. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I’ve just done it a couple times, so I rushed through it so I could surprise you. Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I give her a hug and she leans into the gesture.
“Were you really scared?” she asks quietly.
“Yeah.”
“I guess you do have a heart after all.”
“I guess I do.”
And I think it’s beating for you…