Chapter 2
Joy
Just making sure that my employee is safe at all times. Ford’s words echo in my head as Bobby talks to me. When he shows me the ring he’s planning to offer my sister, he hardly looks like a man in love. He looks like he’s just been awarded a lifetime supply of tinsel.
Given all the Christmas movies he stars in with my sister, that’s not exactly in short supply. She broke up with him two weeks ago and didn’t shed a tear. It’d surprise me if he cared either.
But our families run in the same circles. Our mom is friends with his parents, and their union is something that’s been heavily encouraged by both sides.
I guess that’s the advantage of not being pretty or popular like my sister. They’re not all trying to run my life. I’ve been allowed to break away from the family business and have my own career.
Well, as much as you could call a career helping a computer-illiterate grump scan and sign documents. It’s not exactly a position that comes with the potential for any upward momentum.
Still, I can’t deny that I get a thrill every time I see his scruffy face or watch him scratch that bristly beard.
Sometimes, I lie awake at night wondering how it would feel against my cheek. Would it be soft and soothing or bristly and stingy? Is it crazy that I want to know?
Clearly, my boss doesn’t spare a single thought for me. Just making sure that my employee is safe at all times.
I deflated faster than a blow-up Santa with a dead motor. All of my good, flirty feelings evaporated. I’m not the girl he thinks about, and I should have known that. I do know that.
But there are these moments–infrequent as they are–when I almost think that Ford might return my feelings. Like the time he had a new laptop delivered to my apartment an hour after mine crashed.
I only called him to let him know I’d be running a little late getting the documents back to him, not because I expected him to buy me a state-of-the-art laptop with every bell and whistle possible.
More than that, he included a tablet, fully loaded with the most expensive drawing programs and a customizable pencil.
The female tech support agent who showed up and retrieved all of my files from my dead laptop was just icing on the cake. By the end of the day, it was as if the great disaster had never happened at all.
See, that’s where I went wrong. It’s perfectly normal to replace an employee’s equipment. A good boss would do that. It’s a business expense. I’m sure he gets a tax write-off or something.
“Do you think she’ll say yes?” Bobby asks, and I swear he wipes sweat from his brow.
Knowing my sister, it’s entirely possible. But I don’t want to think about her marriage to Bobby. I don’t want that marriage for either one of them. They both deserve to find people they love, not a match made in conglomerate heaven.
I give him a weak smile. “I think it’s a very pretty diamond.”
He glances down at the ring. “I’m proposing tonight at seven sharp in the middle of the room in front of everyone.”
That’s when I understand what this is. He’s giving my sister an out, a warning of what’s going to come.
“I’ll make sure she knows tonight is going to be a special night,” I answer, careful how I phrase it. You never know who might be eavesdropping.
He nods and leaves me to deliver the message. I hurry through unloading the rest of the packages. They’re carefully wrapped toys for the children.
Maybe the Jolly Family Media Company has turned Christmas into the “biggest payday in America” according to some angry religious organization. But no one does more good for children’s hospitals than my mom.
“Where are you?” I demand as soon as Holly answers the phone. I wait for her, but she doesn’t say anything, so I continue on. “I’m here at the hospital.”
“I’m on my way,” my big sister says, but I don’t like the tone she’s using. I can tell when she’s trying to hide something from me. Unease trickles down my spine.
“You should have been here already,” I answer. The event isn’t until tonight, but Holly usually helps me set up. She stars in dozens of the company’s movies, but she’s never let it go to her head. She’s still as down-to-earth and kind as ever.
“I’ll be there soon. What’s going on anyway?” Her tone is too casual. There’s definitely something happening.
I glance around the atrium with the fifteen-foot-tall Christmas tree and dozens of volunteers rushing about to perfect everything before tonight’s event. Too many people to overhear this.
I turn down one of the hospital’s long corridors, ducking underneath some tape indicating construction work.
I make a mental note to get one of the volunteers to create a better barricade. We can’t have sugar-hyped kids wandering into the construction area.
“What is it?” She asks when the silence lengthens between us. We’ve always been able to talk to each other about anything.
I really don’t want her to do this. It would be different if she were in love with Bobby. Sure, they light up the screen together. But behind the cameras, there’s no spark. Not like I have with Ford. “Bobby is going to be here tonight.”
“I figured he would be. Why does that matter?” She sounds completely unruffled by the thought of seeing her ex-boyfriend.
“Look, I’m not supposed to tell you this. He’s going to propose,” I admit, my voice growing quieter even as I wander further into the corridor. There’s no construction happening today, which means I’m completely alone.
“He isn’t!” She gasps.
“Well, mom is all for it.” I don’t tell her that I already called my mom to ask if she knew about it.
Of course, she did. Mom has carefully directed Holly’s life since she was a baby, and Holly has been nothing but the dutiful daughter.
Sometimes, I worry the smile on her face is frozen there, a permanent symbol of her self-sacrificing nature.
“And she’s OK with me just being ambushed in public?” Holly demands. For a moment, I think she might finally be getting angry. Maybe it would be good for her to throw a fit and reclaim her independence.
“I thought you should know,” I answer, wondering if I’ll ever be lucky enough to have a man propose to me. Would it be Ford? Could he ever see me as more than his assistant? Could he grab me up and kiss me with that big, bushy beard of his?
“Thanks for the heads-up,” she says, ever gracious. Just once, I want to see my big sister lose her cool. I want her to yell and scream and tell the world that it’s not her job to be the one who sacrifices everything she wants and needs for others.
“Are you still coming? I can tell everyone you’re sick,” I offer, knowing she won’t take the exit I’m giving her. When my dad died, she became the family’s rock. Everyone knows the rock doesn’t shake.
“I’ll be there,” she says, but her voice isn’t right. It’s more than that she’s just dreading tonight. Something is bothering her.
We say our goodbyes, and I stare at my phone in the darkened corridor for several long minutes. Finally, I open an app that lets us track each other’s location.
She’s not far from here. Maybe a drive of a couple of hours. There’s no exact address listed, so I copy the coordinates into my notes app without bothering to look them up.
By the time the party starts, I know my sister isn’t coming. The sigh of relief I breathe is huge. I don’t want her here. Not if it means signing up for a lifetime of misery by marrying Bobby.
My mom doesn’t see it quite that way though. She tries to play it cool, but I can tell she’s fretting.
“Call her again,” she hisses at me when she thinks no one is looking at the two of us.
“Her phone must be off,” I answer and do my best to sound annoyed. Inside, I’m turning cartwheels. My sister finally did something for herself. She’s taking a stand. “That’s Marsha. I need to go say hi to her.”
Before my mom can stop me, I hurry across the atrium to greet the organizer of tonight’s event.
She’s a blonde woman in her fifties with a warm smile who seems perpetually happy. Or maybe that’s just because after a nasty divorce, she caught the eye of a billionaire in his late twenties. The two of them are madly in love with each other.
As it is, she’s standing by the gift table while his hands roam across her hip. He pauses to whisper something in her ear, and she giggles like a schoolgirl.
She straightens when she sees me. I didn’t think it was possible, but her smile grows even brighter. She opens her arms wide. “Joy, I’m so happy to see you.”
I step into her embrace, letting her squeeze me extra tight. She’s one of the few people at these Christmas events that’s genuine. She’s not here to be seen or to rub elbows with the elite. She’s here to give back to the sick children who need a reminder that there’s still magic in the world.
She steps back and glances at Charles. “You’ve met my new husband, haven’t you?”
I smile politely because I met Charles last year. I think she gets a thrill out of getting to say her husband. She loves being a newlywed again.
Charles nods to me and holds out a hand. He’s never been anything other than poised and polished. “You put together a stunning event yet again, Miss Jolly Joy.”
I accept his handshake. “This is all of your wife’s doing. She’s the real magic behind the event. I just show up and toss a few boxes out.”
He chuckles politely, and his gaze goes back to her as soon as he drops his hand. “She is the magic behind many things.”
Her cheeks pinken. She nudges Charles on the chest, which he seems to understand means that he’s been dismissed. He glances between the two of us. “Can I top off your champagne glasses, ladies?”
“Yes, please.” Marsha hands him an empty flute, and I hand him the one I’ve been carrying around tonight. I don’t care much for the taste of alcohol, but if I walk around with a glass in my hand, I blend in.
He takes the glasses, disappearing into the crowd.
There are so many people here tonight. Far more than usual, making the atrium warm and humid.
But despite the stifling air, the mood is cheerful.
Seeing the kids with Santa makes the donors reach extra deep into their pockets, which is great since this is a nonprofit hospital.
“How are you liking married life?” I ask lightly.
She gives me a sly grin. “Let’s just say Charles’s stocking is definitely hung.”
The smile on my face freezes in place. I don’t know what to say to that.
She cackles. “I got you a gift.”
We don’t normally exchange gifts, although she always gets a nice piece of jewelry from the Jolly Family Media Company as thanks for her hard work every year.
She produces a long, red box wrapped with a silver ribbon that curls.
I fully expect this to be a nice bracelet, perhaps something with diamonds given Marsha’s tendency to be so generous. But when I open the box, I’m surprised to find a piece of paper. It’s heavy paper, black, with gold lettering on it. There’s a single word typed in a neat serif font: Crave.
“You mentioned being lonely,” she says. “Flip it over.”
I turn over the heavy cardstock to see a printed invitation, giving the holder of the pass a night of debauchery at Club Crave on New Year’s Eve.
“It’s where people go to meet up,” she says. “It’s very high class. Everyone is carefully background checked, and those in attendance of the club have…interesting tastes.”
I work to keep the frown from showing on my face as I wonder what would have prompted her to think that I have those same interesting tastes. I mean, sure I do. But that side of my life is strictly regulated to a few smutty books I read in the wee hours of the morning when I can’t sleep.
“You should go,” she says, sensing my trepidation. “Meet someone. Have fun. It’s a great place to explore. Charles and I went a few months ago.”
Another detail about her husband I could have done without. Still, I paste a smile on my face and thank her as I tuck the invitation carefully back into the red box.
For a moment, I wonder if I could go with Ford. Would he like that? Would he enjoy exploring my interesting tastes? Instantly, I dismiss the idea. He’s my boss. He doesn’t think of me like that.