Bagging Santa's Elf Page 2
“I tell you what. You start making enough money to put some cash in the savings account and buy me a new car first and we’ll get married.”
He was surprised he wasn’t deaf from the crash of the door slamming on him. Not that he didn’t deserve it. He’d regretted his words right away, and anybody capable of stealing the smile from Vince’s face…
Well, that was a special kind of talent.
“I have the name of a really good marriage counselor,” Alissa said, bringing him out of his thoughts. “I can vouch for how good she is.”
“You didn’t tell me you went to a marriage counselor.”
“It was right after we met. We still go once or twice a year just to talk out things with a professional. I find it very helpful. In fact, I look forward to it.” She hugged him as the elevator sank to the floor below. “Please don’t do anything rash. I don’t want you to be alone. Vince loves you.”
The ding of the elevator cut off anything he wanted to say.
The only lights on downstairs spilled out of the glass-walled conference room across the hall. A Christmas tree twinkled in front of them and plastic mistletoe hung invitingly over the entrance.
Alissa tugged him down and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Merry Christmas, babe.”
With a sigh of surrender, Kyle followed her into the party.
The Christmas Party
In the middle of the conference room, under the swag garlands Kyle had purchased with his own funds, Dave Michaels stood in a Jolly Old Saint Nick’s costume, drinking spiked eggnog and regaling everyone with yet another witty story.
Kyle had no doubt Dave would take credit for the impressive turnout this year. After all, he was the one who’d encouraged Kyle to use his creativity and “throw us all a party to remember.”
This year there was no event planner and no reservations at a fancy restaurant. Dave was taking his family on a cruise the day after Christmas and wouldn’t be “coming up for air” until Christmas Eve. Nor did he have time to worry over “all the little details,” that went into planning a party. So he was delegating. How it made more sense to delegate the party arrangements to Kyle instead of an event planner made no sense to Kyle, but he wasn’t in any position to say no, not with the promotion hanging over him like the sprig of mistletoe in the doorway.
Now all he had to do was yuk it up with his coworkers and pretend he was having a good time. Which was easier said than done. He got no more than two steps into the room before Dave let out a booming guffaw and bellowed, “Oh my God, is that you, Kyle?”
Alissa squeezed his arm and made off for the buffet table.
With a chagrined smile, Kyle smoothed the front of his blouse. “There was kind of a mix-up at the store,” he said.
“Either that or somebody has it out for you,” said Dave, cackling at his own joke.
Jim O’Malley winked and said, “At least he’s not coming out of a cake,” and Jenna Wilkinson giggled into her cider.
“Ha ha,” Kyle muttered.
Avil Bhutto, who always breezed through the office with a friendly nonchalance and seemed to like everybody, patted him on the shoulder.
Kyle looked Avil up and down. His costume looked like a furry onesie with moose ears. “Are you a reindeer?” Kyle asked.
Avil grinned. “Donner.”
Kyle wondered how he’d ever tell him apart from Blitzen. Thankfully, Avil was the only reindeer. And Kyle’s competition for the promotion. Avil and Noah Latimore. But Noah was barely out of school, so though Kyle counted him, he didn’t rank him very high on the list. Kyle had been with Michaels and Associates for eight years. His first year out of school. He had seniority, though Avil was only three months behind him. Avil was also married with two children, and Dave still had the antiquated idea Avil was a breadwinner in the way a woman or a gay man supposedly had no need to be.
“I keep telling him he’s looking at a lawsuit,” Alissa had said often enough.
But this was Dave’s company, and though he paid for shit, he was flexible with time for family life and that carried a lot of weight. So Avil… Avil was his competition. But Dave was loyal too, and Kyle had been here the longest.
Working his way around the room, Kyle found himself at the buffet table—the catered buffet table—where he got himself some of the last of the king crab legs. Most of his budget had gone toward the food, mainly because it was what people liked best, and having an office Christmas party on Christmas Eve was brain dead as far as Kyle was concerned.
Brain dead and thoughtless.
Just because Dave was gearing up for a month long cruise and didn’t want his work schedule disrupted any earlier didn’t mean everyone else was happy to donate part of their Christmas holiday to work.
But Dave had promised to give out the bonuses and announce the promotion by 7 p.m., and Kyle suspected the building would clear out by 8. He’d leave last, but it wasn’t as if he had anyplace to go.
His stomach sank at the thought of the house without Vince in it. Without his laughter every time their decrepit refrigerator cracked like an iceberg breaking free.
Before he had time to brood about it though, his phone vibrated. He fished it out of his pocket, blocking the screen from view with his body, and looked down at the screen.
—Good luck, babe.
He bit his lip, flushing warm inside, wanting not to care that Vince had thought of him when for most of his life nobody else had ever bothered.
Then annoyance chased a flood of confusion, as though Vince knew exactly what was going on in his head and had decided to make it harder on him. That kind of attitude Kyle was used to. Alissa had said Vince loved him, but Vince wasn’t here.
Kyle sighed and tapped out a reply. —Thx.
—Text me when u get home. Wanna know ur safe.
Great. Now he was going to be on the lookout for homicidal Santas hunting curly-haired elves in red velvet skirts.
Taking a plate of crab legs, ham, and scalloped potatoes to one of the tables, he set the plate down, got a glass of champagne, and returned to his chair. Alissa and Eve, their receptionist, joined him. A few minutes later, Jeff, the IT guy, plopped into a chair that audibly squealed, and said, “What up, bitches?”
Alissa glared at him. “For God’s sakes.”
“What?” said Jeff. “I’m not on the clock.”
“You know this isn’t a Halloween party, right?” asked Kyle.
Jeff frowned at him, then looked down at his protuberant tummy. He wore a black T-shirt decorated with a washed-out skeleton, beat-up blue jeans, and black makeup on his face that was probably supposed to resemble a skull. “This is Christmas. I’m the ghost of Christmas past.”
“Past,” said Alissa. “Not Christmas dead.”
“Whatever. This is good food, Kyle. Glad I came.”
Kyle grinned. “You came for the bonuses. Admit it.”
Jeff nodded, mouth stuffed full of roast beef now. “Not too proud,” he mumbled.
Kyle dug into his food too. His king crab leg spritzed juice across the table, and Eve’s squeak sent them all into peals of laughter. Scalloped potatoes melted into pools of butter and cheese on Kyle’s tongue. It was a wonder he wasn’t as fat as Santa nowadays. At least his nervous energy was good for something besides its usual job of wigging him out over nothing.
He ate until Dave stood and lifted his glass of champagne.
“One more year has flown on by. This is my sixteenth year in business, and this year we have three new employees, so for their sakes, I am going to bore you all again with the story of Michael and Associates’s bonus tradition.”
At the mention of bonuses, a happy buzz went around the room. The bonuses were tokens but made for a zip of excitement every year.
“As many of you know,” Dave continued. “I got my degree in law over twenty years ago. My plan was to work as a trial attorney, but I had to pass the bar first. During the gap between graduating and getting my results, I had bills to pay. I was also newly married a
nd hadn’t had any luck getting a temporary job I thought commensurate with my skills and education. But Christmas was fast approaching, and not only were my wife and I living in a crummy apartment in a crummy neighborhood, I had nothing to give her, and I was desperate…”
The talk of money drilled down through Kyle’s innards like a corkscrew. His throat thickened, and he pushed his plate away.
He’d sat through this saccharin, shoulda-been-a-Hallmark-Christmas-movie speech every year for the past eight years. But as warm and cozy as it was, it did nothing to convince him money didn’t matter.
The whole point was money.
Not having enough and being bowled over that the tiny mom and pop company where Dave had been working for only two weeks had given him a fifty dollar bonus for no reason other than being a new member of the Rivera Heating and Air family.
Sure, it had been a touching gesture, and adopting the tradition of the now defunct HVAC company—and yes, Kyle had looked them up—was a sweet way to commemorate it, but Dave and his family were going on a monthlong fucking cruise while Kyle was trying to scrape up enough cash to take his car to the shop.
So, yeah… the glitter had long ago worn off this Christmas tale.
“…Which is why this is a holiday tradition that is close to my heart. I look forward to it every year. And after the bonuses, I’ll be making a special announcement. So let’s start with the new hires first. Sue? Will you come up here, please?”
Alissa leaned over. “Butterflies?” she whispered.
He snorted and crossed his legs, stabbing Jeff in the knee with the pointed toe of his elfin slipper.
“Hey,” muttered Jeff, working on a sampling of pumpkin praline pie, pumpkin cheesecake, and pumpkin mousse tarts.
“Sorry.” He turned to Alissa and whispered, “I practically do the job already.”
“Now you’ll get paid.”
And have even less time for Vince, though that wouldn’t matter if they broke up. Despite Vince’s text, they barely saw each other anymore. Tonight, he was working and Kyle was going home to a dark house. Kyle wasn’t of the opinion things happened for a reason, because God knows he’d done nothing to deserve his upbringing, but using events to the best of one’s ability was a hallmark of resilience. And Kyle thought of himself as a survivor. He’d endured hunger, neglect, and outright abuse, yet he’d put himself through school and on track to be a financial success. Getting this promotion wasn’t even a feather in his cap. It was deserved. He’d fucking earned it, and if it meant losing Vince… well, hadn’t he told Alissa they weren’t all that compatible?
You used to be.
The Fed Ex driver and the college kid home for winter break.
The rancher and the farmer. Hell, yeah. That put a new spin on the water wars. A little hostile. A little rough.
“Your turn, Kyle.” Dave grinned as Kyle pushed his chair back. “Or should I call you, Kylie?”
Hardy-har.
He grinned. “Good one.”
The whispery scrape of his stockings rubbing against each other accompanied him across the room.
Wincing at the god-awful sound, he accepted Dave’s pounding hug, and took his envelope back to his seat.
He didn’t need to open it.
Four hundred bucks. Fifty dollars for every year of service.
He set his envelope beside his plate and took a breath as Avil came up next and leaned into Dave’s embrace. Kyle barely had three months of seniority on him. Maybe it would be Avil.
Eve smiled and mouthed, “Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
The hollow thuds of Dave clapping his hands quieted the room. “Okay, now. You all know we have a vacancy that we are filling in-house. It will be the new manager’s job to fill his—or her—old position. I want you all to know that I have full confidence in my choice and have made a decision that I’m convinced will serve the better interests of the company. I want us to have a long and profitable run, and the individual I have chosen is more than competent, open to new challenges, and will grow with our interests.”
Oh, shit.
Alissa darted a stricken glance his way.
Dave wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do it. He just—
“And that is why I have asked Noah Latimore to take the position, and he has graciously accepted.”
“Well, that bites,” Jeff muttered.
Kyle shook his head at him and joined into the hand clapping. He could be big. He could do this. But he was damned if he was going to look at Alissa because he’d probably burst into tears if he made that mistake, so he stood instead and went on clapping. “Well done, Noah. Congratulations! Excellent choice.”
Fabulous. My department’s new boss is twenty-two years old, and I’m fucking screwed.
When the noise died down, he dropped back into his chair and tottered on the edge of the seat for a moment. Just what he needed, to crash land on the floor to boot. After he righted himself, Alissa clasped his hand under the table but didn’t look at him, thank God. Leave it to Alissa to understand.
Jeff glowered. Jeff, who had no skin in this game, looked pissed off for him. Kyle marveled at that. Maybe he had friends he hadn’t even known about.
Across the room, Noah shook Avil’s hand, then turned and headed toward Kyle. Repressing a groan, Kyle stood again and forced a smile on his face. “You must be on cloud nine right now.” Jesus Christ, did you just say cloud nine? No wonder you didn’t get the job, you old fart.
“Oh, I am so high, I have no idea what hit me. I’m sure it’ll sink in tomorrow though. My folks are going to be so thrilled.”
“I bet.”
“Santa just dumped the whole sack of toys in your living room,” said Alissa, beaming a smile at Noah.
Noah nodded, looking slightly bewildered, before he turned back to Kyle. “Well, I just wanted to say I was in very good company, and I know we’ll work well together. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Oh yeah, me too. Absolutely.” NOT!
He landed back on his chair to the hum of his phone in his pocket. At least his stupid dumb skirt had pockets. His win of the day. He got out his phone.
—u hear yet?
—I didn’t get it.
The little three-dotted bubble that meant Vince was typing popped up and wobbled on the screen. Wobbled, wobbled…
Frowning, Kyle waited. And waited. The bubble disappeared. Reappeared. Wobbled for a few more seconds and then—
—Fuck.
Fuck?
Another warm flush spread through him. Why was that like the tightest hug imaginable? The comfy, safe, accepting hug he got after he’d told Vince about his childhood. About things a guy like Vince had no experience with.
Sure, life hadn’t been perfect for Vince. His dad had gotten the shaft, kind of like Kyle just now, after the bank that had swallowed up the little community one he’d given over twenty years to, forced him into a retirement he couldn’t afford. So now, at sixty he was the manager of a chain pet food store.
At least he liked it.
Vince’s mom was a middle school teacher, so she wasn’t exactly rolling in dough either. They worked hard, and they struggled, so it made no sense to Kyle that Vince was comfortable with just getting by.
“I have what I need,” Vince had told him. “For now, this is what I need. Time and opportunity.”
Well, kumbaya.
What Kyle needed was not to picture himself driving home in a car with no heater and no promotion to plan on.
What Kyle needed was a merry fucking Christmas.
Car Trouble
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”
Kyle looked up from his phone. The screen was blank. No text messages.
“What?”
Alissa pouted. “Me. Stay with you?”
The caterers were gone, the food packed up, and the garbage in trash bags by the door, ready for him to carry out. Except for the two of them, the building was empty and ominously quiet. The t
winkling Christmas tree against the dark wall of glass was wigging him out. It was like something out of a horror movie.
He’d considered changing back into his work clothes—in case a knife-wielding maniac chased after him and he had to run—but he was going straight home and didn’t want to delay getting there. Just in case Vince had quit work early. Maybe he’d be home.
Kyle set his phone down on his pile of clothes and shook his head. “No need. I’m going to walk you out, come back in for the rest of the garbage, and go myself.”
“You told Vince?”
He nodded, then smiled. “He said fuck.”
“Fuck indeed,” she said.
“As in fucked over.”
“Fucked to the wall.”
“Fucked good,” he added.
Alissa snapped her purse shut. “Fucked to within an inch of your life.”
“Fucked until the cows come home.”
“Fucked hard and put away wet.”
Kyle hooted, and Alissa covered her face in her hands and burst out laughing.
“Oh my God,” he said.
She peeked over the tips of her fingers. “Does it feel good to laugh?”
He sighed and opened his arms. “Come here.” Hugging her close, he pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “You are my Christmas angel.”
She smacked him on the butt. “Stop.”
He let her go and motioned to the bags of garbage. “Come on. Santa’s counting on you to stuff presents under that tree of yours.”
She groaned. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. My folks can help though. It’ll be fun having a full house. Zach’s off tomorrow too. Un-be-lievable.”
“So let’s go.”
She slung the strap of her purse onto her shoulder and grabbed two of the bags. “The invitation still stands, you know. We’d love for you guys to come over. You never did tell me what you and Vince have planned.”
“Yes, I did.”
He snapped off the light in the conference room.
“What?”
He grinned. “We’re breaking up.”
“Don’t even joke about that, Kyle. I will be seriously mad at you. This isn’t the time. Your emotions are all over the place.”