Page 3 of Christmas Cove

“I don’t know whether to be offended that he doesn’t like Christmas, or to start writing,AmericaMoore, in my Lisa Frank notebook.”

“You’ve got it bad,” Poppy laughed.

“I’ve got something, that’s for certain.”

CHAPTER2

One by one,her coworkers claimed the holiday treats and exchanged pleasantries. Bringing a bit of joy and indulgence was the least she could do for the people who worked alongside her each day to make the magazine successful. Once the crowd thinned, America motioned for Poppy to follow her to her desk, where they could speak in relative quiet.

America hung her purse on a coat tree. “What’s on the schedule for today?”

Poppy’s brows pinched together. “You’ve got a meeting,” she said, “with Mr. Janowitz.”

America felt her heart drop in her chest, and she rubbed her throat where it constricted. It was the same feeling she had whenever she was called into the principal’s office back in high school.

“What does he want?” America asked as she sucked a deep breath into her belly.

“Not sure,” Poppy said and checked the time. “Wow! Staring at Mark and eating cookies took longer than I thought. You’ve got about ten minutes to get up there. You know he doesn’t tolerate tardiness.”

“Nor do I.” America fidgeted with a rogue curl across her forehead. “Do I look all right?”

“Perfect, like always,” Poppy said and turned America towards the door. “Now go.”

America didn’t know what she would do without Poppy. Not a writer or an editor, Poppy was great with time and people. She kept everything running smoothly so that America could get her work done in the most effective way and in the least amount of time. Which reminded her...

“Did you send my edits on the Croatia package?” America asked as she walked towards the elevator. “And did we get the approval for that restaurant reviewer? What was her name?”

“Yes, to Croatia. And yes, to Miska, the reviewer.” The phone at Poppy’s desk rang, interrupting her answer. Poppy threw a finger up and rushed over to her workspace, while America waited to see if her meeting with Janowitz was canceled.

Poppy picked up the phone and answered in her usual professional manner. After a short exchange, Poppy covered the receiver with her palm. “It’s your landlady. She says it’s urgent.”

“Take a message,” America instructed.

Poppy nodded and put the landlady on hold. “Everything is under control. Go!”

America steeled herself for whatever was coming from the boss, Janowitz, who waited in his office on the eleventh floor. She combed her brain for any reason he would want to see her. There was nothing she had done to warrant such a meeting. Nothing bad, anyway. It was possible that he wished to see her in person to give her a holiday bonus. Though he had never given bonuses in person any other year, it was a nice thought.

In the mirror reflection inside the lift, she plastered a smooth and confident grin on her face. Then the doors opened to a sparsely decorated vestibule, and she felt her smile deflate. Two black couches flanked a marble coffee table, where a vase held olive branches and pine sprigs. It was as festive as Mr. Janowitz was with his holiday decorations but was better than none at all.

Through the paned glass wall, America waved at her boss, who was speaking on the phone. A stressed red flushed his face. He slammed the phone down as he stood from his seat and paced around the long side of his desk before making his way to the door.

“Come on in, America,” he said and motioned for her to enter.

America trotted over, her high heels tapping against the white terrazzo floor and echoing in her ears. It was difficult to discern whether the noise was from her stilettos or from her own heartbeat pounding in her head. She turned and closed the door, even though there was no one else around to hear them. The lines on her boss’s forehead indicated a serious conversation was coming her way.

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” he said and plonked down into his cognac leather desk chair. “I trust you are having a pleasant holiday season?”

America nodded. “I am,” she said and noticed her boss swivel back and forth in his seat. “But I don’t think you asked me here to discuss Christmas.”

“On the contrary. Christmas is the exact reason I asked you here today.”

“Curious,” America said and relaxed into her own chair across from him. “If there’s one thing that I love to talk about more than anything else at this time of year, it’s the holidays. What’s on your mind?”

“You love Christmas,” he said, “and I have a problem.”

He was beating around the holly bush for an unknown reason. “Whatever your Christmas dilemma, I’m sure I can help. What is it? Gift ideas? Decorating? Because I see your pine arrangement out there, and I think we can do a bit better than that, don’t you?”

Mr. Janowitz leaned over and peered over America’s shoulder into the vestibule. “What’s wrong with my pine twigs?”

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