Page 23 of Make You Mine This Christmas
From: [email protected]
Re: Updates
Dear Mr. Walker,
Please see attached the reports of donations received in November. We’re up 27% from this point last year.
Also attached is an updated schedule of assignments for the rest of December for you to approve.
Finally, I’m forwarding the feedback we got from the job Ted Baker did last week. He has several high-profile appearances coming up—would you like to make any changes?
Please let me know if there’s anything else you need.
Best,
Monica
Chapter 13
Austin
After cooking a big breakfast, Brody is bouncing with energy for us to head out and go shopping for a tree. His excitement is infectious—the part I didn’t say last night is it seemed too depressing to me to decorate my place when I didn’t have anyone else to share it with. I have a roommate now—roommate, sure, Austin, I scoff internally—what harm could a little extra Christmas cheer do?
After dropping off the dry cleaning, we drive forty-five minutes to where there are a few places close together, so we can have more options than what Wally World would have. Brody suggests a pause in the official count of our questions game, so we can discover our decoration compatibility.
“White lights or multicolored lights?” he asks.
“White lights, definitely.” I turn down the Christmas channel he put on so I can hear better.
“Oh, wrong. But it’s okay, you’ll learn.” I laugh. Brody hasn’t allowed himself to be this free around me yet. It’s hard to ignore how charming it is.
“Candy canes or popcorn string?” He moves on to the next question.
“Candy canes, for sure. Way less work.”
He nods. “Smart. We’re getting a late start, a good time to be efficient. How do you feel about inflatables?”
I shoot a quick glance at him, glad we’re at a red light before pulling into the first store. “I live in an apartment...”
“You have a balcony!” he says, like it’s completely reasonable to go from suggesting we get a tree to decorate to purchasing an inflatable to put on a balcony barely big enough for two people to sit on at the same time.
“What happened to only getting a tree?”
His eyes twinkle as I turn the car off. “I never said just a tree. We’ll walk through the inflatables section, see if anything catches your eye.”
“Okay.” I get out of the car and look back at him across the hood as he does the same. “But I don’t think I’m going to find anything I like.”
“Never say never,” he says, full of confidence, taking off at a brisk walk for the entrance not related to the temperature outside.
I chuckle and follow, realizing I’m simply along for the ride.
* * *
Hours later, we have a six-foot Douglas fir strapped to the roof of my vehicle and bags of lights, ornaments, extension cords, and, yes, a box holding an inflatable fill the back seat and cargo area. I turn off the ignition and sit back in exhaustion. “How am I more tired now than I am at the end of a day playing an elf?”
“Perk up,” he says, patting my leg. It’s not the first time we’ve touched each other casually today, but like every time before, I feel his touch long after he’s removed his hand. “We’ll unload, I’ll put dinner in the oven, and then we can relax with a nice glass of the eggnog you grabbed until we eat. You’ll feel better with your blood sugar up and be ready to decorate.”
