“Nowhere. I have to finish a project,” I say. “We’ll need to get something to go.”
“Of course.” She rolls her eyes. “You know, I’m starting to think that maybe your boss isn’t so bad after all.”
“Excuse me?” I cross my arms. “You do remember that he’s the same man who flew to Punta Cana to make us leave, right?”
“I remember we left for Hawaii to escape the storm.”
“This is the same man I call and complain to you about every day.” I glare at her. “Every. Day.”
“Yes and no.” She smiles. “You two could probably date each other if you wanted to. You have a lot in common, and you do spend a lot of time together.”
I give her a blank stare. “Garrett has a girlfriend.”
“Does she know about you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That if I met a guy like Garrett, but he was talking on the phone to some other woman in the middle of the night—even if it was all “work,” I would not have a boyfriend.” She shakes her head. “And yes, he can be quite the ass, but he pays you really well…”
“Whose side are you on, Georgia?”
“Yours, of course.” She laughs, walking over to her suitcase. “By the way, since I finished my shopping early, I brought along your gift. You’re going to be very proud of me, because I was super thoughtful and creative this year.”
I know better than to believe her. She says that every year and the gift is always the same: A “rescued” sweater (different color) that she knitted herself and a “Be grateful I got you anything at all” card.
She tosses me the red box, and I place it on the counter.
“You know what?” I say. “Screw takeout. Let’s go run up a huge tab at a five-star restaurant…”
“Don’t you think we should also get him your Secret Santa gift?”
“Would you get your boss a gift if he made you work on your off days?”
“Point taken.”
EIGHT
Garrett
URGENT:
West Media Internal Memo
Dear Valued Employees,
We’re two weeks away from our prep-ceremony for this year’s office party. As such, I’d like to publicly thank the anonymous group of executive employees who decided to give me an early present: A month’s worth of “psychological therapy” and a full collection of Horrible Boss films with the “This is how you make us feel” note.
I find this revelation quite shocking and unfortunate.
No other boss in this city offers the full range of benefits & high salaries that I do. No other CEO is willing to spend millions of his profit to give his employees a very generous holiday vacation. That said, I’ve decided to make a few changes to our mandatory event this year, so we can perhaps, get on the same page about what your “feelings” mean to me.
This year’s Office Party will span three weeks. No excused absences.
As always, I look forward to seeing you at the prep–ceremony, where our travel partner will reveal this year’s destination for our two-week, all-expenses-paid work retreat.
Be sure to bring along whatever gift you purchased for your coworker(s) via our company’s Secret Santa tradition.
Sincerely,
Garrett West
C.E.O., West Media International
P.S.—You did this to yourselves…
~The entertainment industry never sleeps, so neither do we ~
NINE
Savannah
This Christmas
Manhattan, New York
Day of the Pre-Ceremony
Ringggg! Ringggg! Ringggg!
I roll over and hit snooze on my alarm clock for the umpteenth time this morning. I start to pull the covers over my head, but I catch sight of the time.
How the hell is it five forty-five already?
I stumble out of bed and take a quick shower. I pull my hair into a curly bun and put on one of my favorite beige pantsuits. I make sure I have my briefcase and my purse, but then I suddenly feel like I’m forgetting something.
My Secret Santa gift for Garrett.
Ha! The last thing he needs right now is a gift.
He’s worked us ten times harder than ever after that ‘anonymous gift,” and our kiss in the office is long forgotten. So much so that I’ve left work early every day this week.
He’s made every intern break down in tears, brought every senior executive into his office for a brutal evaluation, and told me, “This year may be the first year that I don’t give you a rose at the final ceremony, Miss Grey.”
Fuck that rose.
Rummaging through my closet, I search for a three-wick candle I can spare, but I don’t want to give him one of those. Even though he’s been nice to me lately, he still has a track record that doesn’t make him worthy of one of my favorite things.
I spot my box of ‘Last Minute Gift cards’ and flip through them. The fifty and twenty dollar ones are far too much, so I settle on a ten-dollar Amazon one.
Even that’s too high, though.
I log into Amazon and spend half of it on some new hair conditioner. Then I pick up the gift Georgia brought me and toss it in my bag.