Page 59 of My Infatuation with Isabella

Sydney:Okay, what happened to the tuna bagels? I thought we were getting tuna bagels.

Me:Geez, Syd, you’re not letting up on that one, are you?

Tommy:Can someonepleaseget this woman a bagel!

I turn down the volume of my mic when Let it Snow starts and take off my headsets.

“And that’s a wrap,” Damon says, standing up. “Great last show for 2026.”

We walk out of the studio together while Sydney stays behind to read the news and traffic report.

“And what a year it’s been,” I say. “I can’t wait to sleep in and only wake up after the sun rises.”

“Life of a breakfast show host,” Damon says with an unapologetic shrug.

Since we got the breakfast slot, our days start at four a.m. It was a big adjustment for us, but Damon has been in this business for over a decade now, so the ungodly hours don’t bother him.

“Are you at least letting us leave early today, slave driver?”

He chuckles, shaking his head at my question. Tommy and I love to give him shit about everything, but he’s a great boss and we work well as a team. Damon is a fierce leader who is focused and goal-driven, but he’s also diplomatic and allows us enough freedom to implement ideas and make decisions on our own. Working with him has been so insightful because his knowledge of the industry is insane.

“Yeah, you can leave early,” he replies as we walk down the corridor toward his office. “I’ll see both of you at the Christmas party this evening.”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Tommy says. “I can’t believe you guys got us rooms at The Royale. That hotel is so fancy. I think I’m going to bathe in champagne.”

“The company won’t cover that cost,” Damon says, stopping outside his office door.

“Fine. I’ll just have it for breakfast.”

“You can’t have it for breakfast either,” I interject. “We’re having lunch at my parent’s house and you’re the designated driver.”

“What’s the point of having your own car if he still carts you around everywhere?” Damon asks.

“Habits that are about a decade old don’t break easily,” I argue.

“Sometimes I worry the two of you have a weird sort of co-dependency,” Damon says, opening the door. “But that’s a problem to unpack in the new year. Now get out of here before I change my mind about you leaving early.”

“You don’t need to tell us twice.” Tommy is already walking toward the elevator. “We’ll see you later, boss.”

Tommy starts brainstorming ideas for when we get back as we make our way to the basement parking.

“Give it a rest, Tom. It’s Christmas. We’ll deal with all that when we get back. Let’s just take a break. We need it.”

Tom needs to be reminded to slow down. He’s so passionate about this job that he doesn’t know when to clock out. I love this job too, but I’m a lot stricter with drawing the line so that I still have a life outside of work. I don’t work weekends and I don’t work after two p.m., especially now that we start before the crack of dawn. It’s the reason why I’m exhausted.

I cannot wait to just sit in my pajamas and binge-watch Netflix series. Never in my life have I been this excited to do nothing. The only damper to my excitement is that I was supposed to be doing this with my sister. She usually flies home to spend Christmas with us, but she called last night to say that all flights were canceled due to severe weather conditions. I was supposed to spend my whole break with her and Jean-Pierre, and now they’re stuck in Ireland somewhere.

The whole point of the trip was for us to spend time with him and get to know him better. They started dating almost a year ago and we still haven’t met him in person. Cat calls often, so we speak to him all the time, but he’s such a quiet, reserved guy that I just want to see what he’s like in person. Keith has been very open and accepting of Jean-Pierre, but my mother’s loyalty will always lie with Scott. And I guess I can’t blame her. Scott’s relationship with her is completely independent of Cat and their breakup. He loves her like a mother. He treats her like a mother. Hell, he still goes there every second Saturday. After playing basketball with Keith in the morning, he stays and has lunch with them like he used to when he was still dating Cat.

But my mother and I agreed that we would give Jean-Pierre a chance regardless of our connections with Scott. I was really looking forward to seeing my sister. Last Christmas was the last time she visited. Her projects and contracts take her from place to place, but unfortunately, home is not one of those places.

Tommy promises to pick me up at six, then we part ways and I take a slow drive through the suburbs to my quaint little home. It’s an average size, three-bedroom house. I don’t need the extra space. I only bought it so I could feel like I made it in life. The whole front area is open-plan, my kitchen and lounge separated by a floating counter and the wide space converges into a corridor that leads down to the bedrooms. It’s got a small garden, and my neighbors are great. What more could a girl ask for?

After a short nap, I drag myself from my bed to the shower. It takes an inordinate amount of time for me to get ready because it’s a fifteen-minute struggle to just get into my dress. It’s Christmas, so I’d bought a tight, figure-hugging black dress with a thick green stripe and a thick red stripe that runs vertically from my breast to my knee. It’s asymmetrical, so one side ends at the knee while the other side ends halfway down my thigh. Likewise, one side has a full sleeve while the other side has no sleeve at all.

Once I manage to sheath it over my voluptuous breasts and my fat ass, it looks amazing, accentuating my hourglass figure. I give my eyes a dark, smoky look and contrast it with a deep red on my lips. I add a bit of tinsel to match the red stripe on my dress and leave my hair down in big, bouncy curls. It’s just past shoulder length now, so it brings the whole look together in a way that’s sexy and elegant.

Tommy honks outside five minutes later. I grab my clutch and walk out to meet him. He gets out of the car when he sees me.

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