Page 6 of Santa Baby Maybe
Art and Christmas in progress. Who wouldn’t stop to watch that?
My desk was situated on a slightly raised stage in the back of the room. This was so I could look out onto the floor and see all of the people working there. I didn’t have an office. Just a desk and coat rack behind me, which meant that at any given time I could be called upon to help one of the workers with a design or offer a suggestion. I’d only been at the company for a few weeks, but already my team was starting to understand how I worked.
I worked with them, not over them.
I was opening up my laptop when Cheryl, the team supervisor, wandered over.
“How did the meeting go?”
“It was fine,” I said with a frown, thinking about what an asshole Darling was. But whatever, he was right. I was art design. He was finance. The two worlds would never meet other than to bitch about budget. I just needed to put him out of my mind and think about new ideas.
“Wes wants me to save the company,” I told her. “No pressure there.”
“If anyone can do it, you can. It’s why he stole you away from our competitor.”
“Stole” was a bit strong. I’d been about leave Holiday Inc. and everyone knew it. They were crushing the creativity out of Christmas ornaments and I couldn’t stand by and let it happen.
Wes’s offer had come at the perfect time.
“I have some thoughts,” I said.
Cheryl smiled. “Awesome. Because I really like my job.”
I smiled back. “Who wouldn’t like making things that bring joy to people?”
“How was the new CFO? I heard he’s hawt!”
Hot? I wouldn’t know. I guess, maybe. I mean, when I first saw him I was, like, whoa. But that was just an instinctual reaction. Dark blond hair, super blue eyes, Tom Brady cheekbones, and a body that made a suit stand up and cry out to be worn. I’d felt underdressed immediately, and glancing down I could see the sparkle of my toe rings.
“Hawt, maybe. Asshole, definitely.”
Cheryl shook her head. “Why is that always the case with those money guys? It’s like they have to hand over their souls in order to earn a profit.”
“As long as he stays out of my way, I’m not going to worry about him. We just need to focus on our jobs of making great ornaments.”
Cheryl’s shoulders slumped. “We don’t makegreatornaments. We make ornaments. Boring, generic ornaments.”
I already knew Cheryl’s disappointment. Because of budgeting restraints, this year Kane Co. had been limited to only three molds. Round reds, green ovals, and white icicles. Not the type of creativity an artist longs to be a part of. But I was here to change that.
My mind whizzing with ideas, I was startled when Jake jumped up on the desk, circled twice, and then slumped down into his cat pillow. Without thinking, I reached out to stroke his silky black fur, which he allowed for five seconds until his head popped up and he made the threat to bite my hand.
“No bitey Mommy,” I said instinctively.
Jake wasn’t a cat just anyone could love, but he’d improved now that I’d allowed him to come to the factory with me. Apparently, one of his issues had to do with separation anxiety. As long as he was near me, he was in a better mood. A better mood meant fewer sneak attacks on my ankles.
“Your cat’s a jerk,” Cheryl reminded me as she walked off.
“He’s just misunderstood,” I said, defending him. “Now, let me get to work. Save the company and all that.”
“You got it boss.”
I sat at my desk, opened my laptop, and then closed it. Instead, I opened the drawer underneath the desk and pulled out my pencils and sketch pad. I was always more creative with a pencil in my hand than designing on-screen.
Ornaments everyone would want.
I put the thought into my head over and over again, trying to will an idea to come into focus.
Instead, I thought of Mr. Darling and hismy typethis andyour sortthat bullshit. He didn’t know me. He didn’t know anything about me except that I had toe rings, a cat, and I ate vegan. I wasn’t a type. I was a person.
I ended up drawing a dick because it seemed to fit my thoughts of Mr. Darling.
However, because this was a Christmas ornament company, I also drew a wreath that hung from it. A perfect design for Mr. Darling.
I would name itJingle Balls.
