by Ali Parker
“Happy holidays,” she beamed, then shoved something green towards my face.
I dodged, puzzled. “What’s that?”
“Mistletoe, silly,” she said, and I realized then she was trying to hold it above my head. I silently thanked my parents for having such a tall son.
I could see that she was getting frustrated, so in the spirit of goodwill I bent slightly and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Frieda.”
“Same to you, Connor,” she said, her voice throaty in a way that kicked my anxiety into high gear. “What say you fix me a drink?”
“Any preference?” I asked, indicating the bottles on the desk.
“Screwdriver.” She put the emphasis on the first syllable.
I poured about an ounce of vodka into the cup I’d filled with ice. “Come on, it’s a party,” she said, so I added another splash, then filled it up with orange juice.
“Here you are, my lady,” I said, handing it off to her, then making a drink of my own.
Frieda raised her glass. “To friendship,” she said, then batted her eyelashes as me. “Inside the office, and outside of it.”
I gave her a small smile and then drank, wondering if I was going to have to actually admit to her that I wasn’t interested. It could make things around the office very awkward.
“So what did you get your Secret Santa partner?” she asked after taking a gulp of her drink. I predicated that Frieda was headed for a hangover tomorrow morning.
“You know that information’s classified,” I replied, my eyes scanning the room to make sure Becca wasn’t anywhere nearby to overhear us.
Frieda laughed. “You know you can trust me, Agent Douglas.” She winked and pursed her coral lips, and suddenly she reminded me of the aunt I’d had who’d gone as Pussy Galore to a costume party. My dad had joked that she was one secret agent that should remain secret.
“I can’t risk it, Moneypenny,” I said, adopting a terrible Scottish brogue. “The stakes are too high.”
She laughed. “Well, Mr. Bond, maybe after the exchange we can find time to...debrief.”
That line would have made me cringe, but at that moment I caught sight of Madlyn heading into the conference room.
I set down my cup, picked up another, and hastily made a drink. Retrieving my own glass, I gave Frieda a nod. “You’ll have to excuse me,” I said, my mind already on other things. “Duty calls.”
Chapter 10
Madlyn
I put down my phone, relieved. The sitter was already headed to the daycare to pick up Bennie and bring him home. She’d just offered to stay the night if needed, encouraging me to relax and have a good time at the party.
I thanked God, and Becca, for the woman. She understood how difficult being a single parent could be. Despite her exhortation, I assured her that I’d be home that night, probably before eight o’clock.
I abandoned my desk at long last and made my way to the conference room. Although it was only twenty minutes past five, the party was already in full swing. There was plenty of food, and the crowd was talking loudly over the Christmas music broadcast around the office. I took a deep breath, pushed away the work day mentally, and was determined to have a good time.
I waved to Becca, who was talking to Brad from HR. Brad’s face held the expression of a hopeless dreamer and I pitied him for a second, until I saw Becca give him that secret smile she usually only reserved for pictures of Alexander Skarsgard.
The department manager approached and I held my breath, praying he wouldn’t say anything about the spreadsheets I’d sent in earlier. I’d been distracted all week and I’d prayed before I sent them that they weren’t riddled with mistakes.
Instead he greeted me with a smile, passing me an envelope. “Great job this year Madlyn,” he said. “We’ve all been really impressed.”
“Thank you,” I said modestly, enjoying the lift his praise gave me.
“Enjoy your bonus,” he said, gesturing towards the envelope. “Don’t spend it all in one place.”
As he left to greet others, I opened the envelope with shaking hands. Last year I’d earned a nice bonus of $500. I’d been expecting the same amount this year, counting on it actually, now that I’d racked up so many late fees at the daycare center.
I was floored when I pulled out the check for $1,000. It was double what we’d gotten last year! I’d have enough to get Bennie his game system, and maybe even manage to put some towards the trip to New York in spring.
Feeling blessed, I tucked the check in my pocket, unable to stop a grin from taking over my face.
“Whoa there,” said a voice from beside me. “Watch out where you point that thing. You might blind somebody.”
I laughed. Connor was always making me laugh. Well, when he wasn’t making my body ache for his touch that was.
“You look thirsty,” he said, holding out a plastic cup.
I took it and thanked him. “Quite a party, isn’t it?”
The room was full of boisterous exuberance, the alcohol and bonus checks combining to make the crowd especially festive. I couldn’t help but feel the same. It was nice to blow off some steam after working so hard for the last several months.
“It certainly is,” Connor replied. “It beats the one at my last job. I was interning straight out of college at this firm that dealt mostly in dental technology investments. Let’s just say, despite their focus, the job didn’t quite put a smile on my face.”
“Are you saying it wasn’t something you could sink your teeth into?”
He chuckled. “Right.” Taking a sip from his cup, he continued. “The average age in the office had to be around 57 or so. In the year I was there, I attended seven retirement parties. But the holiday party they had every year was quite a different day at the orifice.”
His sense of humor tickled me, and I loved our banter. “Should I brace myself?”
He shook his head. “I guess you know the drill.”
Laughing, I nodded. “Give me the whole tooth.”
Connor rolled his eyes at that one, but continued to laugh. “Remind me never to engage you in a pun battle again.”
“Aw, don’t brush me off. Afraid you won’t be awarded the winner’s plaque at the end?”
“Stop,” he said between chuckles, putting his hand on his stomach and leaning over. “I surrender.”
I laughed. “Tell me about their party.”
He straightened, catching his breath. “The office had gone out of their way to be inclusive to every possible winter celebration that year, so we had decorations for Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, even Mawlid. Unfortunately, most of the old white guys who worked there didn’t know what the decorations were.”
He grinned, and I couldn’t help thinking how much I wanted to see that grin from the circle of his arms when I woke up in the morning. I shook off such forbidden thoughts and listened. “One poor guy who’d been elected the office fire monitor came into the party and started lecturing everyone about the hazards of open flames. He then proceeded to blow out all the candles on the menorah. I thought that the one old Jewish guy who worked there would get offended.”
“Oh no,” I said. “What happened?”
“I asked him if he was upset, but he just shrugged, saying ‘Most people from California think Hanukkah is the sound a duck makes. I myself am not even sure how to spell it. Besides, the fire monitor has a point. We wouldn’t want the roof to catch fire. We Jews have been blamed for enough already. We don’t want to add arson to the list.’”
I burst out laughing, resting a hand on his chest as I wobbled slightly. As my giggles subsided, I left the hand there for a moment because I liked the way it felt. His chest was muscular, the muscles firm under my hand.
My eyes met his and I felt this transfer of energy between us. He wanted me, I could see it in his eyes. I felt his heartbeat speed up under my hand and it gave me this overwhelming feeling of excitement, of anticipation.
The sound of meta
l against glass caught my attention, forcing me at last to remove my hand from Connor’s chest. It was Becca at the front of the room, hitting a fork against a wine glass. I wondered idly where she got the glass, as the rest of us were making due with red plastic cups. Leave it to Becca to have the only glass in Christendom.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s that time again. Please retrieve your gifts for the Secret Santa exchange.”
Connor and I exchanged smiles, then we both headed to our desks to grab our gifts. I felt nervous suddenly, like a live wire was humming under my skin. What if he hates it or thinks it’s lame? What if he was expecting something more exciting? What if, what if, what if?!?!?
I returned to the conference room, bag in hand, to see Becca once again calling for attention. “Okay, folks, we’re going to start with the Traditional Secret Santa. All those participating, please find your partner and give them your gift.”
The crowd watched as coworkers exchanged gifts, but it was clear their enthusiasm was muted. Even those who were participating in the traditional Secret Santa exchange were waiting to find out what happened when the singles had their turn.
After a few minutes, John raised his voice above the noise. “Enough of the tame stuff. Bring on the sexy Secret Santa!”
There were some cheers and hollers at his words, and I realized then that the office party this year had the potential to get a little out of hand.
“Okay, okay, settle down,” Becca said. “I’m glad to see that everyone is so excited about my idea. But John, it’s ‘Singles Secret Santa,’ okay? Behave yourself.”
John shrugged. “Just doing my best to remain on the naughty list.”
Becca gave him a fake frown. “I don’t think you need to worry about that.” She scanned the room, waiting for the hubbub to die down. “Now, if everyone is ready, then Singles, go ahead and hand out your gifts.”
I turned to Connor, who had returned to my side. With a deep breath, I thrust the bag in his direction. “Here.”
He looked at me, confused. “What’s this?”
“I’m your Secret Santa,” I said, trying not to blush.
Connor laughed. “I’m surprised, but now it makes sense that you were pumping me for information about a gift.”
“I wouldn’t say I was pumping you,” I replied, then slapped a hand over my mouth, my cheeks heating.
His expression froze, and I could tell he wanted to say something in response, but I moved the hand from my mouth to his. “Just open your present.”
Connor nodded, and I removed my hand. “I’d be pleased to open it, but there’s just one thing first.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
He pulled his hand out from behind his back, revealing a gift bag with a long, awkwardly wrapped present sticking out of the end. “You take this.”
“Who’s it for?”
“You, silly.”
My eyes widened. “You mean...”
“I’m your Secret Santa too.”
Chapter 11
Connor
I couldn’t believe my luck. Not only is my gift going to Madlyn, but I was about to receive hers. The odds against such an outcome were enormous. The way that our Secret Santa worked was that each person drew a name at random. Generally, the person whose name you drew didn’t also draw your name.
I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve such an amazing turn of events, but I wasn’t going to look a gift Santa in the mouth.
“You have to open mine first,” she said.
“Gladly,” I replied, amazed at how excited I felt. I was as giddy as a kid on Christmas morning.
I reached into the bag and felt around, managing to get my fingers around what seemed to be the base of the object. Pulling it out, I was greeted with an explosion of red cellophane, colorful wrappers, and a mess of ribbons. “Are those...?”
“Condoms,” Madlyn said with a chuckle. “It’s a condom bouquet.”
Laughter erupted from the crowd and I realized suddenly that we weren’t alone. Being with Madlyn had a habit of making me forget that the rest of the world existed.
“You made this yourself?”
She nodded, a shy smile on her face.
“It’s creative as hell.” Each condom was attached to a stick, and each had a lovely little ribbon tied to it. “And quite a functional gift.”
“You’ll never use all of those before they wilt,” John said, and the crowd hooted in amusement.
I rolled my eyes, then turned my attention back to Madlyn. “Thank you.”
She held my gift to her in front of her and I suddenly wished desperately for some privacy. I realized that the whole tenor of the gift would change if opened in front of a crowd, versus being opened alone. But there was nothing I could do about the circumstances.
Madlyn pulled out the feather first, setting the gift bag on the table to be able to unwrap the present. She smiled in confusion when she held the feather, unwrapped.
“Uh...thanks?”
I shook my head. “There’s more.”
The next thing she unwrapped was the blindfold. Her fingers idly stroked the black fur and I felt the blood rush to my cock. Then she pulled out the last gift.
When the handcuffs were unwrapped, I realized that her face was stained red. A chorus of ‘oooohs’ rose around us and I’d never felt more awkward in my life.
“I’ve heard these types of things are real popular nowadays,” I said, hating how lame my voice sounded.
“Is that so?” she asked lightly, putting the gifts back into their bag.
“Uh...yeah.” I stammered. “I...uh...saw it on the internet.”
John let out a hearty guffaw and slapped me on the back. “I’ll just bet you did, sport. Just answer me one question: Are you wearing leather underwear under those slacks?”
I punched John in the arm, but inside I was somewhat grateful for his being an asshole. It was diffusing some of the tension between us. “If I am, I borrowed them from you.”
John shook his head. “Wrong. My dungeon wouldn’t allow underwear.”
The crowd laughed, and then their attention was focused on other gifts.
“Hey, I’m sorry if the gift embarrassed you,” I told Madlyn once the group’s attention was diverted away from us. “I bought them as a gag, before I even drew your name. I hope you’re not offended.”
“Of course not,” she said, waving the feather around. “My gift was meant to be funny too. Although I’m a little disappointed that you didn’t pick these things out for me in particular.” Then she tickled my nose with the end of the feather.
Her voice dipped a little, and my cock hardened to an iron rod in my slacks. I breathed deeply, trying like hell to calm down. “Good,” I said, my voice coming out way too high, so I coughed and repeated myself. “Good. I’m glad you aren’t offended.”
“Offended is definitely not the right word for what I am.”
Oh God my cock is so hard it will never go back to normal. If I was reading her tone right, she was flirting with me something fierce.
A million images of Madlyn and her gifts made my heart start to pound in my chest. Madlyn in handcuffs. Madlyn blindfolded and sprawled in front of me. Open and willing to take whatever I gave her. Madlyn’s skin underneath the peacock feather. Madlyn. Madlyn. Madlyn.
She was all I could see. All I could think about. I wanted her more than my next breath, and now, with the things she was saying, I wondered if maybe she wanted me too.
“What the fuck is this?”
The screech drew my attention. It was Frieda, and she was holding up a box that had been scrawled with the words “Battery Operated Boyfriend.”
The crowd’s attention was focused on the older woman. Although I knew she was demanding and that several of our coworkers weren’t fans of her, I’d never heard her swear like that in front of a group.
“This is a classless gift,” she raged. “I don’t need a B.O.B. I date plenty of men.”
A few in the
crowd, perhaps those who had taken advantage of the makeshift bar on the manager’s desk, start to laugh at her announcement.
“Shut your filthy mouths,” Frieda yelled. “This whole exchange was a sexist idea. Talk about a hostile work environment.” She threw the gift to the ground and kicked it, then stormed out of the conference room.
Madlyn’s eyes were wide. “Shit,” she muttered.
I put my hand on her arm. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting a reaction like that, but I suppose that gift does sort of cross the line.”
“Well, the line was not so clear to begin with,” Madlyn murmured. “I’m going to go talk to Becca and see what she plans to do about this.”
“Good call,” I said, although I was disappointed as hell. We’d just started to have a moment between us, and now she was distracted. The moment was gone, tossed away like a Christmas tree after New Year’s. Or a B.O.B. by a middle-aged mid-level executive.
I shook my head at my own thoughts. Maybe I need another drink. The mood in the conference room had turned sour anyway.
At the bar, I refilled my cup with ice and debated whether to stick with whiskey, or to try the hazelnut liqueur that came in a bottle shaped like a tall monk. I spied a sprig of greenery on the edge of the desk. It was the mistletoe Frieda had used on me earlier. On a whim, I picked it up and stuffed it in my pocket.
John came by, informing me that there was some spiked egg nog up at the receptionist’s desk. I decided to tag along with him as he went for a refill.
“Not a bad haul,” he said, gesturing at the bag I was carrying. “And it comes in such pretty wrappings. They aren’t half as pretty as the one who gave them to you, but still, they’re nice enough.”
I nodded. “Do you think she liked my gifts?”
John pursed his lips. “Well, they were certainly unexpected. But at least she didn’t throw them to the ground and try to stomp them to death.”
I chuckled. “Yeah. Someone definitely made a mistake on that one.”
