Page 76 of Wrapped Up with the Three Scrooges

“Look.” I nodded toward the dance floor where Sophie was now teaching Blake some kind of line dance. “I think we might need to add Party Planning Committee to the organizational chart. This is a big success.”

“Don’t push it,” Ronan warned, but I caught the smile he tried to hide behind his glass.

“Too late. I already ordered the committee T-shirts. They’re bedazzled.”

“You didn’t,” all three said in unison, making me laugh.

“No, but your faces were priceless.” I set my glass down, unable to resist the pull of the music any longer. “Now, which one of you is going to dance with me first?”

They exchanged glances, having one of those silent conversations that still amazed me.

Levi took my glass and set it aside. “I think we all owe you a dance for making this happen.”

Before I could process what was happening, I was being led to the dance floor by all three of them. The music shifted to a slower song, and we fell into a natural rhythm, moving together as if we’d practiced this.

“People are staring,” I whispered, though I couldn’t bring myself to care too much as Max’s hand found the small of my back.

“Let them,” Ronan murmured, his fingers intertwining with mine as we swayed.

“They’re probably jealous of your dance moves,” Levi added, making me snort most unattractively.

As we moved together under the twinkling lights, surrounded by the joy and laughter of people who weeks ago had seemed beaten down by holiday stress, I felt something settle inmy chest. This—all of this—was more than I could have hoped for when I’d walked into Wrap It Up desperate for a job.

I looked at each of them. “Thank you. For trusting me with this. For letting me bring a little Christmas spirit to everything.”

Max squeezed my hand. “Thank you for showing us what we were missing.”

Epilogue

Emery

One Year Later

Ismoothed the tablecloth for the hundredth time, even though it was already wrinkle-free thanks to Blake’s obsessive attention to detail. He’d arrived exactly forty-seven minutes early—which was actually fifteen minutes later than I’d expected—armed with a label maker and a binder full of party optimization strategies.

“The flow from the appetizer station to the drink table needs to be more efficient.” He consulted his notes. “We should adjust by approximately four inches to the left.”

“You know what? You’re absolutely right.” I helped him shift the table, fighting back a smile. A year ago, I would have found his precision exhausting. Now, I found it endearing. Besides, he wasn’t wrong—the flow was better.

“The fairy lights in the entry are asymmetrical.” He squinted up at them.

“I know. Levi did that on purpose because he says it adds whimsy.”

Blake’s eye twitched. “Whimsy,” he repeated, as if the word offended him.

“Tell you what—why don’t you go adjust the garland? I noticed it’s not maintaining a consistent drape ratio.”

His eyes lit up. “I brought my measuring tape.”

“Of course you did.” I watched him march toward the garland and couldn’t help but marvel at how much had changed. The Blake who’d once treated my mere existence as a personal affront was now one of my closest work friends—even if he did still occasionally mock write me up for “excessive caroling in the workplace.”

“Is he measuring the garland?” Ronan appeared behind me, sliding his arms around my waist.

“Mm-hmm. And don’t pretend you weren’t just in the kitchen rearranging the dessert display for the fifth time.”

“I was not.” He smiled against my neck. “It was the third time. And the mini pavlovas weren’t properly aligned.”

I turned in his arms, straightening his tie even though it was already perfect. “My perfectionist.” I rose on tiptoes to kiss him.

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