by R. R. Banks
There was more. I knew there was more. I didn't want to marry Willa. I didn't want to align myself in that way with the Sommers. I didn't want to hand over my future and my life to someone who I only just tolerated, especially when I was starting to feel something that I never thought that I would.
But I couldn't say any of that to her. I couldn't look into her eyes and tell her what I thought and felt every time that I looked at her -- at least what I thought that I was thinking and feeling.
Tension had built in the room and I hoped that the levity that we had found together hadn't been ruined.
"What time is it?" she asked.
It wasn't the response that I would have expected from her after what I had said, but I was relieved and grateful that she had let that conversation drop. I looked at my watch.
"Almost four."
I was surprised that it was that late. I didn't feel at all tired.
"That should work out."
"What do you mean?"
"We should be able to fit in at least one movie while we wrap before my mother wakes up and calls the police to report me missing."
She said it completely casually as she reached for the laptop sitting in the middle of the desk and opened it.
"Wouldn't your sisters tell her where you are?"
"She won't care," she said. "Can you put in your password?"
"It's Persephone. What do you mean she won't care?"
"Persephone? She'll just think that they are being too casual and that I've been abducted or fell off a cliff or something, so she'll call the police frantically."
"Greek mythology. She's the queen of the underworld. Doesn't it bother you that she's going to call the police?"
"That's a little morbid." She typed the name into the computer. "Not really. She does it fairly frequently."
"It was also my mother's name. What do you mean she does it frequently? Isn't that a crime?"
"You probably should have led with that. Yes, she did it enough times that one of the detectives gave her his personal number so that the next time she did it she wouldn't be arrested."
A window popped up on the screen and one of my favorite Christmas movies started. I grinned.
"You like this movie?" I asked.
Cristina looked at me incredulously.
"Of course. Who doesn't?"
Willa.
"So, what do we do first?"
I looked around at the fairly overwhelming assortment of items that were now spread across the floor.
"How about a little show and tell? Show me what you picked out."
I had forgotten that she didn't see everything that I picked out and I felt a little surge of excitement. Dragging all of the bags with my purchases in them over to one spot on the floor, I started taking them out individually, displaying them and trying to remember which of the people she had shouted at me coordinated with each of the items.
"You bought an infant a diecast car advent calendar?" she asked several minutes later when I had reached the last item.
"It's never too early to start appreciating cars," I told her.
"Well, I'm sure that Ella-Lucia will love them."
"Oh. Damn. I thought you said Elliot."
Cristina laughed and reached for the bags that I had filled again with my purchases.
"I'll just inscribe the card with a declaration of gender equality and encouraging her to explore all aspects of herself and the world around her."
"That's pretty impressive," I said, "but what do you mean you'll inscribe the card with that?"
She looked at me strangely.
"I always put personalized cards on my gifts."
"Your gifts?" A sudden realization dawned on me. "Those were real people?" I asked.
"Of course," Cristina said. "Oh. That reminds me." She reached down the neck of her shirt and pulled out a handful of cash. She counted some out and handed it to me. "Thank you."
I looked down at the money in my hand.
"I thought you made those people up."
"Why would I do that?"
"I am starting to think that I don't know why you do anything."
Cristina laughed and reached for a roll of paper.
"You saved me a lot of time in that store."
"Did you get everything that you were after?"
Her eyes dropped, and I saw her smile waver slightly.
"Um," she started. "I did pretty well, I guess. I think I got just about everything that I was looking for."
"Just about?" I asked, knowing that she wasn't really telling me the truth.
Cristina looked up at me and gave a smile that I know she thought looked breezy and carefree, but I could see the stress behind her eyes.
"There was this one particular video game that Matteo wanted," she admitted. "Like I said, he's getting bigger and so it's not as simple as just piling some toys up under the tree. He picked this game out weeks ago and I saw that it was part of the Black Friday sale, so I was hoping I'd be able to snag one. Your store only had two, though, so I missed it."
My heart clenched, and I felt my mouth go dry. The conversation that the Sommers and I had weeks ago about the doorbusters seared into my mind and I remembered the way that I had felt when Willa talked about luring in the customers with the super-limited deep discounts. I hadn't removed it from the sale and now I was seeing exactly what I had thought about unfolding in front of me.
"I'm sorry," I said.
She shook her head, smiling again.
"It's fine," she said. "I think he knew that it was kind of a long shot. He's gotten used to that. It's not like he's not going to get anything." She paused and seemed to take a moment to regain control of her emotions. "It's just that he's been working so hard this year. He's already thinking about college and he's determined to get a scholarship, so he's been pushing himself so hard at school and doing all kinds of volunteer work and community service to start padding his applications. That's why I was actually relieved that he wanted to go hang out with his friends on Halloween. I just wanted to do something to show him how proud I am of him."
"Cristina," I started, but she shook her head sharply, drawing in a breath and reaching for a roll of paper.
"We better get to work."
The movie was coming to an end and I was feeling happily lost in a tangle of paper, ribbons, and tags when I heard the door to the office open sharply. Cristina's laughter died, and her eyes narrowed, and I knew who had stepped inside.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
I stood and turned to face Willa.
"It's lovely to see you, too."
"I've been looking all over for you. I've called you a thousand times."
I touched my pocket and realized that I had left my phone in the car.
"I'm sorry I missed your calls."
"That's it? You're supposed to be at the office."
I looked around.
"If you didn't notice, I am at the office."
"You know what I mean. You said that you were going to stay there and keep track of the reports."
"No, Willa, you said that I was going to stay there and keep track of the reports. I decided that I had other things to do. I know you don't like to hear this, but I actually do have autonomy."
"I told you that I was going to be back tonight. I thought that we were going to have dinner."
She had assumed the whimpery tearful voice that she used with Wilton, but I was far from buying it.
"You said we could have turkey sandwiches like you were tossing me a bone. Then you wouldn't tell me when you were actually getting back. I wasn't just going to sit around and wait for you to show up. I found something else to do."
"I see that," Willa snapped, glaring at the stack of wrapped presents and the scattered wrappings and embellishments. "So where did you find this one?"
She was looking at Cristina, who had climbed to her feet and was tucking the wrapped gifts back in the hopper. When she heard what Willa said, she
turned her eyes to her sharply.
"You've got to be kidding," I said. "This is Cristina. She works at the office."
"How am I supposed to know that?" Willa asked angrily. "I'm never here."
" Your office," I said.
"It's OK, Josh," Cristina said quietly. "I should probably go."
"It's not alright," I said, then looked back at Willa. "Are you serious right now? You see her almost every day and you're going to stand there acting like you have no idea who she is."
Recognition crossed Willa's face, followed by a sneer.
"Oh, that's right. The cleaning lady." I saw Cristina pause and her eyes close briefly, but she maintained her composure and kept transferring the gifts into the hopper. "You seem to think you're a bit too familiar with Mr. Worthington."
"She doesn't have to call me that."
"Why don't you clean up this mess?" Willa snapped. "Come on, Joshie."
"Willa!"
"What? It's what she does. I tell you what. Even though she's not in the office where she belongs, I'll put a little extra on her next paycheck. As long as she does a good job, of course."
"Stop it."
Cristina dropped the box in her hands and turned away from the hopper, stalking across the office and out, slamming the door behind her.
"Did she seriously just walk out of here without doing what I told her to?" Willa asked in disgust.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Excuse me?"
"How could you talk to her like that? She's not your servant, and even if she was, she wouldn't deserve you treating her that way."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Of course, you don't. Because you can't get your head out of your designer-encrusted ass long enough to notice anybody else around you."
"What's going on with you?"
"Do you know what I did tonight? I went shopping. I went to my main store and I experienced the Black Friday sale like the customers do, and you know what I realized? We screw the living fuck out of those people. All these things that you came up with to boost sales are awful and they really cause the people who make the choice to come to our stores issues that they shouldn't have to deal with. They are dealing with out of control crowds. nonsensical layouts, deceptive pricing, and things that they are relying on being there that aren't because they didn't get there two seconds before. Christmas is hanging in the balance for some of these people, and we're causing them more trouble than we are helping them."
"I'm not the only one who came up with those ads and tactics," she protested, "and even if I was, so what? We aren't a charity or a humanitarian organization. We own stores. Retail establishments. It's our job to provide products for them to buy. If they come to our store, that's their choice. We're not forcing them to come, and when they do come, we're not forcing them to buy anything. Who cares if they don't get everything on their list or they buy a few things that they didn't plan on? All that matters is the bottom line, and those sales make sure that ours is healthy."
"It's not ours, Willa. It's mine, and I don't like a lot of the things I saw tonight."
She scoffed and rolled her eyes at me.
"Leave it to you to get all misty-eyed during the holidays."
"You need to go, Willa," I said.
The anger inside me was so strong I could feel my muscles twitching and the back of my neck burning. I needed her out of my sight.
"What?"
"I need you to go. I can't look at you right now. Honestly, at this point, I don't really want to look at you again."
"What are you saying?"
"You know exactly what I'm saying. Don't try to act so naive."
Willa suddenly looked startled.
"Let's not fight," she said smoothly, trying to inject as much sweetness into her voice as she could. "It's the holidays and we're just tense. I'm OK, you know. I understand if you want to have fun before we're married. I don't mind. You can do whatever you want as long as no one knows about it."
"I don't need your permission to do anything, Willa. Not anymore. Please just go."
Willa finally turned around and headed out of the office. As soon as she was gone, I looked around at the remnants of the night and the time that Cristina and I had gotten to spend together. I realized that she had left all of the gifts behind, along with her purse. I stared at them, remembering the look on her face as we talked about the gifts I had chosen and what she wanted for Matteo. A sudden sense of resolute calm came over me and I checked my watched before stalking out of the office and down to the parking deck. I climbed behind the wheel of my car, relieved that Willa had likely had her driver bring her to the front of the building, and started across town.
Chapter Twelve
Cristina
I thought that the sound of me chewing the waffle cone was much too loud. I tried to process it, trying to understand why my chewing was suddenly so damn loud. It was like I had a mouthful of nails or that something metal was scratching up against something else metal.
Like a key in a lock.
Oh my damn. Somebody is trying to get in the house.
The realization shocked me out of my sleep too fast for me to even finish my dreamy ice cream cone. I had fallen asleep on the couch sometime in the afternoon, and now I was wide awake, but disoriented by the darkness that had fallen over the house. I wondered how long I had been sleeping, but mostly I wondered who the hell was fumbling with a key at the front door just a few yards away in the entry hall. My mother was at my sister's house for the night and would have used the back entrance that led directly into her room. Matteo was staying with his father for the weekend and never had any issue using his key.
"Shit!"
I heard a muffled mutter and knew that it was a man who was trying to get inside. My mind spun. I tried to think of what to do next.
Call 911. I should call 911. Don't be that woman who just stands there in the house waiting to get Dahmered.
I quickly realized that I couldn't call 911 from where I was because my phone was on its charger in my bedroom and the only landline in the house was down in my mother's room. I would have to run right past the door in order to get there. I didn't have the chance to make a decision before I heard the front door open. I scrambled across the living room carpet and onto the polished wood floor of the dining area, heading for the door to the front room. I hoped that whoever had just made it into the house would make his way down the hallway and into the rest of the house and that I could get into the front room and out of the house. When I finally got through the door, however, I saw the dark figure of the intruder entering the room. He seemed to already be carrying something and he took a few steps into the room before setting the items down.
Was he planning on bombing me?
He turned and walked out of the room, and I started to stand, ready to slam the front door and lock it again, not that that would have stopped him for long considering he apparently had a key, but seconds later he stepped back into the house. I dropped back into the shadows and watched him enter the room with a few more objects. This was the only chance I had. When he turned away again, I got to my feet and ran across the room, jumping onto the man's back and wrapping my arms around his head with as intimidating a cry as I could muster.
Josh
I grunted as the person hit me from behind and wrapped around me, arms tightening over my face and legs squeezing my hips. I grabbed onto the arms and spun around, trying to buck the person off of me.
"Who are you?"
The voice was angry, but I recognized it as Cristina's. I tried to answer her, but one of her arms was pressing against my mouth too much for me to be able to get the words out. She lifted her other arm and started pounding on my back as she alternated between asking me who I was and yelling at me to get out of the house. It was a fairly impressive approach, but one made entirely ineffective by the fact that even if I did want to follow her instructions and leave, I wouldn't be able to because she
was stuck to me and it probably wouldn't be a good idea to bring her along with me.
I shouted against her arm, but she only squeezed harder. I reached around behind me with both hands and grasped her hips, trying to peel her off. Finally, I made my way toward the wall and felt around for a light switch. When I didn't find one, I spent a moment cursing the room in the same apparently indecipherable garble. I whipped around again and saw the silhouette of what I hoped was a large overstuffed chair across the room. I turned around so that my back was to the chair and reached out with my arms. Falling back, I caught myself just enough that some of my weight pressed down onto her, but I held most of my body up so that I didn't crush her. It was just enough to cause her to loosen her grip and I was able to slide down away from her and onto the floor.
"Cristina!" I gasped. "It's me!"
"What?" she asked, sounding breathless.
I'm guessing from doing her best to beat the hell out of me.
"It's me," I repeated. "It's Josh."
I felt her scramble off of the chair behind me and heard her footsteps cross the room. A lamp snapped on in the corner and I saw her glaring at me.
"Josh! What are you doing?"
"What kind of room doesn't have a light switch?"
"It's a parlor," she said. "It's not supposed to have overhead lighting. I don't think that my home's lighting approach has any bearing on my original question, though. What are you doing here?"
"You left everything at the office," I said. "I wanted to bring it to you."
