Page 4 of Mission: Merry Christmas
“Once I figure out my game plan, I’ll go see them, but for now, it’s better if we keep this quiet. In fact, I better not stay at your place. The kids would blab for sure.”
“Mom and Dad are going to know something’s up when they don’t get the standard issue outrageous Ware Agency fruit and gift basket.”
There wasn’t anything standard issue about those oversized baskets. It was embarrassing, really. Avery snorted. They were so tacky. Tom had a team of five full-time employees putting those baskets together. It took them almost three months to assemble, then three weeks to hand deliver them via the limo to every client. Tom insisted on sending them to the leadership team families as a perk. Last year, there’d been gift cards and freebies from the brands represented by his athletes, like underwear, tennis shoes, liquor, jewelry, and even breakfast cereal. It was a weird combo, but not surprising that Tom would want to flaunt his reach. He thrived on throwing his accomplishments around like confetti in a one-man parade.
Avery knew exactly how she could fix that. “I’ll make one and send it with a fake card with the agency logo on it. They’ll never know the difference.”
Corinne’s sigh taunted her. It wasn’t fair to ask her to keep the secret. “Please don’t tell them,” Avery pleaded. “Not until I figure out what I’m going to do. Please?”
“Actually…” Corinne stretched the word out about two syllables longer than it needed to be. “This might be perfect timing,andthe answer to your problems. For a little while anyway.”
“You have that tone in your voice, like the time you tricked me into sinking my sausage patty into Dad’s coffee.”
Corinne’s laugh made Avery laugh, too.
“Dad still doesn’t believe you put me up to it, even after all these years.”
“Excuse me while I straighten my halo,” Corinne teased. “I promise it’s not anything like that, but it would really help me out. A favor for a favor?”
“You’re making me very nervous. Like the next words out of your mouth are going to be, ‘Your mission, should you choose to accept it…’”
Corinne giggled, but didn’t deny it either. “I have a client who has been a bit of a challenge.”
Avery could tell that was an understatement, just by her sister’s tone.
“He’s fired the last four people I’ve sent down there,” Corinne explained. “I wasn’t going to send anyone else, but now his sister has stepped in. She’s asked me to send a sports therapist, not just an aid. You’ve handled these kinds of patients a thousand times over. He won’t give you any problem at all, and you can’t beat the location.”
“Where is it?”
“In the Caribbean islands. Palm trees. Sunshine. Powdery beaches. The bluest waters you’ll ever see. The only downside is Mr. Cranky.”
“I can handle Mr. Cranky. What’s the injury?”
“Mountain bike incident. Knee, and according to the doctor, it’s healed. I think it’s more about getting the patient to do the therapy so he can keep the injury on the down-low with the team. Should be a cakewalk for you.”
“Routine.” Even the worst patient couldn’t ruin a free trip to the islands during the winter. “Sign me up.”
“Done. You really are saving me on this. It’s nearly impossible to get anyone to work over Christmas. When can you leave?”
Avery looked around her apartment. “I’ll grab some boxes and ship my stuff to your house, then pack. Won’t take too long. I could be there Thursday.”
“That’ll work. I’ll send you the flight information and the rehab reports. His sister sent me everything.”
“Terrific. I’ll work up a plan before I get there. Thanks, Corinne.”
“You can thank me when you come back with a tan and spend New Year’s Eve with us. Dan talked me into hosting the party this year. You have to come. Deal?”
Avery wouldn’t miss that for the world. “Count on it.”
ChapterThree
Icyrain washed over New York City as Avery boarded the plane for paradise, and Corinne had sweetened the deal by booking her in first class. Avery tucked her damp jacket in the overhead, then grabbed a blanket and settled in for the flight. She pulled her feet up in the chair and worked on her Christmas shopping list. It was cut by more than half now that there’d be no obligatory office gifts to shop for.
Truth was, she could probably make the list in her head at this point. It was so short.
It would definitely be a bigger challenge to put together that enormous fake Ware Agency gift basket while out of the country, but she’d figure something out. Or maybe she wouldn’t.
Wasn’t it bad enough she hadn’t told her parents her position had been eliminated? Perpetuating the lie only made it worse. She’d have to tell them after the holidays, anyway. Why not let Tom Ware look like a forgetful, uncaring jerk? It would only prove her point.
