by Laura Briggs
“Thank you,” she said. He recognized the warmth lurking just beneath her voice. For a second, his mind traveled back to the moment at the lodge. When the two of them were alone in front of a blazing fire without workplace conflicts between them like a barrier.
“Maybe we should do this more often,” he said. “Call a truce, I mean. Be a team instead of—”
“Instead of stealing each other’s ideas?” she finished. “Or climbing over each other on the ladder of success? By the way, you never have returned my resume. Which I know you took from the file cabinet in my office.”
“I just borrowed it,” he answered. “I was curious, that’s all.” He should let go of her arm, now that she had regained her balance. But he didn’t.
“It’s none of your business,” she whispered. She didn’t pull away from him as he anticipated. Her skates drifted closer to him, closing the distance. “But I suppose it’s only fair, since I sneaked a glimpse of your personnel file once. When Downey left the file cabinet open in his office.”
“You did that?” His voice filled with admiration. “Way to go, Bishop.”
She laughed. “Only you would say that, like this is some kind of game we’re playing. Anybody else would be furious that their partner was checking up on them.”
“Like you,” he added. “I guess it’s because you don’t trust me, huh?” He leaned down, his face mere inches from hers as he met her gaze.
“I never said I didn’t trust you,” she answered. “I really did once, you know.” She pulled away from him, skating out onto the floor.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He skated after her, his fingers touching her shoulder as he drew close. She glanced over her shoulder swiftly. “I just ... I was just—”
“You were just leaping off a cliff without a rope,” she replied. “That’s what you always do, Marc.” As she slid away, he reached down and grabbed her hand.
“At least let’s pretend to get along,” he said. “Come on.” He pulled her after him gently, towards the middle of the floor.
“Marc, don’t,” she said. But she didn’t pull her hand away—an encouraging sign. Playfully, he spun her around. She clung tightly to his hand, her skirt twirling as she circled him. The music throbbing overhead was too fast and too loud for their slow movement; she let go of his hand and covered her ears.
“I think I’m going to order a milkshake,” she announced. “Get away from the noise for a few minutes.” With an apologetic smile, she turned and skated towards the concessions.
So she still wasn’t ready to forgive him—big surprise. She probably still thought he was dropping hints about that snowbound weekend at the lodge. As she disappeared into the crowd, he forced a smile to his face and skated over to join their clients at the snack stand.
“So, let’s talk a little about Holly Tree’s publishing contract,” he began. “Trust me, they’re prepared to exceed any other offers you’re considering.”
The fact that Levitz and Stacy agreed to sign within ten minutes didn’t surprise Lisel. The next morning, she spent an hour on the phone touching base with the duo’s agent, with Downey’s secretary, and with the publisher’s public relations staff to create a smooth transition for the contract.
Her mind, however, was on something else as she closed her cell phone and strolled through the office door. The success of last night’s event mingled with thoughts of her business partner. Their tension, their friction, the danger of their differences getting in the way at every turn.
But when it worked, it played out like last night’s event. A new contract for the publisher, another feather for their resumes. In between, were the moments where things grew personal and mistakes from the past got in the way. If they could avoid those moments, everything would be fine.
Surely Marc was thinking the same way. Maybe they could find a way to keep things strictly business and set aside the tensions that made them both lose focus.
She exited the elevator on her office floor and offered a brief wave to Deb and Janine, who were chatting by the water cooler.
“Congrats on the big deal,” Deb called after her. “Marc was smiling like a million dollars this morning, so it must be a good one.” No doubt by now he was off celebrating somewhere else.
“Thanks,” Lisel called back as she slipped inside her cubicle. She dropped her briefcase on her desk and sank down in her chair. Pulling open a drawer to reach for her stapler, she spotted an envelope on top.
It was blank on the back, sealed shut with tape. Assuming it was some sort of mistake, she tore it open. Inside was a note scrawled with a black marker.
I know what happened last Christmas. Expect a big surprise soon.
*****
Her blood froze. Rereading the piece of paper, she tried to make sense of its words.
How was it possible? She glanced around, as if expecting the writer to be watching her somewhere nearby. Stuffing the piece of paper out of sight, she pushed back her seat and paced in the cubicle.
What did they mean by a “big surprise”? In a flash, her mind envisioned the Secret Santa round at the office Christmas party. What better way to expose her and Marc’s brief relationship than an event attended by the whole office?
There was no way anyone else could prove it. There was no way anyone else could even know, unless... She didn’t have to finish that thought. Leaning around the wall of her cubicle, she stared into Marc’s empty workspace.
Checking to make sure no one was watching, she slipped across the aisle and into his cubicle. Glancing around at the messy photo collage, the untidy files stacked on his desk. She pulled open drawers, rummaging around for evidence. As if the incriminating black marker and white stationary would be labeled as evidence inside.
Sitting down in his chair, she moved his computer mouse. The screen sprang to life, revealing a backdrop that matched the snow-covered mountain photo on her cubicle wall. She sucked in her breath, startled by the sight.
Not that it proved Marc had told somebody else. But the thought dominated her brain as she opened his email account. It was already logged in, his email subject lines appearing on the page.
He was way, way too trusting. Or too confident she would never find anything incriminating. She scrolled through the subject lines, looking for something about relationships. Or about the holidays. Or about anything that didn’t seem to be stupid animal pictures or office jokes.
“What are you doing?” the sound of Ed’s voice startled her. She whirled around to see him peering over the opposite cubicle wall.
“Um, I was just looking for some project notes that Marc forgot to give me,” she answered. “I guess maybe I deleted the email by accident or something.”
Hastily, she hit the button and closed the email account. Trying to seem casual as she rose from his desk.
In the hall outside, she bumped into Deb. “Did you talk to Janine about her ski trip yet?” her friend asked, as Lisel twisted her mouth into a casual smile.
“Ski trip? No, not yet,” she answered. Then studied Deb with slight suspicion.
“Why did Janine think of my skis?” she asked. “I mean, she didn’t even work here last year.”
Deb raised her eyebrows. “Maybe because I suggested it when she mentioned she needed to borrow some?” She laid a hand on Lisel’s arm. “Relax, it’s not a conspiracy or something.” With a short laugh, she moved on.
Lisel stared after her a moment. Could it be Deb? She rewound all the conversations they had about last Christmas, the remarks about her aloof behavior after the ski lodge. Maybe Deb had put the pieces together somehow.
No. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. Leaning against the wall of her cubicle, she tried to think of all the possibilities. All the people who might have overheard something from one of their post-vacation arguments.
The mail cart rolled by with Hal the offices assistant at its helm. “Here,” he said, handing her a stack of envelopes. “And take this, too.” He handed her a s
mall special delivery package.
“This is Marc’s,” she said, checking the address.
“I’m sure you’ll be seeing him soon,” he answered. With a grin, he pushed the cart up the aisle.
Her cheeks crimson, she tossed the package onto her desk. That was it. She definitely needed to talk to Marc right now.
Leaning on his apartment buzzer, she waited for an answer. There was silence on the other side for a long time, followed by a shuffling noise. The door opened to reveal a sleepy Marc in a rumpled t-shirt and jeans.
“Are you familiar with the concept of ‘taking days off’ from work?” he asked, glancing at her blazer and tailored slacks. “We landed a major client last night, Lis. Forget about work for twenty-four hours, will you?” He started to close the door again, but she blocked it.
“Never mind that,” she answered. “You broke your promise, Marc. You told somebody about us.”
He stopped putting pressure on the door. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
“I’m talking about this.” She shoved the note into his hand. He uncrumpled the sheet of paper and read it slowly.
“I found it in my desk drawer this afternoon,” she answered. “How did it get there if you didn’t tell somebody what happened?” Her voice rose with frustration.
He looked up from the letter. “What are you panicking about?” he asked. He handed her the piece of paper. “It doesn’t say anything about us. All it says is it knows what you did last Christmas— so does everybody in the office who spoke to you last January, too.”
“That’s not the part the writer’s talking about,” she snapped. “And what do they mean by a ‘big surprise’? Marc, this is blackmail. Somebody is going to expose our past relationship to the whole office.”
She bit her lip, fighting back a sense of panic as she imagined what kind of evidence they might have. A photograph? A firsthand account from another guest? Maybe someone connected to the publisher had been staying there also.
“Maybe it’s nothing bad,” said Marc. “What kind of surprise could it be? There’s nothing, Lisel. Just a little talk around the office. It’s not as if they have a videotape of us making out.”
She shivered slightly. “Do you know what will happen if this gets out? Months of mockery for both of us—not to mention the editors thinking about splitting us up due to workplace tensions.” She didn’t mention that until twelve hours ago she was more than happy to trade partners with anyone.
“Stop being paranoid.” He moved to close the door again. “It’s just a joke somebody’s playing.”
“And if it’s not?” she said. “If the Secret Santa is just a big humiliation waiting for us at work on Christmas Eve?” She leaned on the door frame, meeting his eye with a defiant glare.
He released a long breath. “Then we’ll have to find a way to move on, won’t we?” With that, he disappeared inside again.
Smacking her hand against the door, she received no response from the other side as it closed. He was no help, as usual. She would have to figure out a way to deal with this herself.
As usual, her mind added.
*****
Being snowbound for Christmas alone would have been terrible, Lisel had concluded. This was while she was curled up against Marc in front of the massive stone fireplace in the resort’s lobby. Leaning back against the leather cushions, Marc was sleeping soundly. One arm draped protectively around her shoulders.
She punched him in the shoulder, gently. “Wake up,” she whispered. “It’s almost midnight.”
He stirred and opened his eyes. “Is it Christmas yet?” he asked. Leaning forward, she kissed him on the cheek.
“Almost.” He sat up and glanced at the clock, then at the girl beside him.
“How long have you been here?” he asked. “I thought you went upstairs.”
She shook her head. “I’ve been here since we finished the cocoa. Which was about three hours ago.” She nodded towards the empty cups on the nearby table, next to a plate of half-finished cookies.
The roads were opened again yesterday and most of the guests had taken the lodge shuttle to the Christmas concert in the community. They could have gone along had dinner at a four-star restaurant afterwards. But that thought never crossed their minds in comparison to the thought of an empty lounge and fire for two.
“You should have gotten some sleep,” he said. “It was a long day. Trudging through snow, trying out those skates on the frozen creek ...”
“Pummeling my coworker with snowballs,” Lisel finished. “Sounds like a perfect Christmas Eve to me.” As he climbed to his feet, he took her hand and pulled her up with him.
“Get your coat,” he said. “Let’s go see what Christmas Day looks like on the outside.”
She pulled her coat from its spot on the floor near the sofa. Her heart was hammering as she pulled it on, her eyes doing their best to avoid darting in Marc’s direction as he hunted for his scarf and gloves. This last day had been almost like magic—no need to spoil it by thinking ahead of the moment.
“All ready,” she announced. He pulled on his cap and gave her a warm grin.
“Pretty,” he said, at the sight of her rumpled hair and damp coat. “I like it better than that dress you were wearing the other night.”
She smacked his arm. “Be quiet,” she answered. He pulled her along behind him as he slipped open the lodge door to the grounds.
The moonlight shone brilliantly on the snowy lawn. They waded towards the stone bench under a massive fir tree. He wound his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. She nestled against his coat, feeling his heart beat beneath it.
“I should have gotten you a Christmas present,” she whispered. “Something cheesy from the gift shop. So we could celebrate this occasion properly.” She raised her face when he didn’t answer.
“You didn’t get me something did you?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Not telling,” he answered. “Not yet anyway; it’s not even dawn. Who opens Christmas presents before daylight?” They sank down on the bench together.
“People in Columbia do,” she argued. “But I don’t really want anything, you know. Just this.” She intertwined her fingers with his, squeezing them gently.
“Lisel,” he said softly. “About these last few days. I know it seems sudden—”
“Don’t say it,” she whispered, laying a finger on his lips. “Let’s not talk about it right now. We’ll figure it out later.” Sighing, she tucked her feet up on the bench, enjoying the warmth of his arm around her.
“But there’s something I have to say,” he continued. She rolled her eyes.
“Fine. Go ahead. Apologize.” She drew back and sat up, her arms crossed in expectation. He stared at her, brows slanted.
“Apologize?” he snorted. “For what? For these last few days?”
She laughed. “I meant for the times before that. All the stupid things and the undermining tactics.” Her own expression grew slightly confused. “What did you think I meant? We were talking about starting over, weren’t we?”
His frown deepened. “No, that’s not what I’m talking about. Why would we start over again?” He stared at her. “You can’t erase the past. You just accept what happened and move on.”
“Excuse me?” she asked. “Are you saying you’re not sorry for anything that happened before now? That you don’t want us to be better from now on?”
“Stop changing my words around.” He groaned. “Look, all I’m saying is, we are who we are. I don’t want you to think of these last few days as some magical change. Something in a box that we can sprinkle over the future and gloss over the past.”
“We’re talking about changing things, not ‘glossing over’ them,” she said. “Why are you trying to back out of changing? Unless—” she paused. “You’re not really serious about this, are you?”
The color disappeared from his face for a moment. “No, that’s not it,” he answered. But she had already sprung t
o her feet.
“Is this just a fling to you?” she asked. “Just a way to have fun for the holidays? No wonder you don’t want to apologize—you have no intention of doing anything differently when we get home!”
“What about you?” he shot back. “When are you going to make some changes? It’s always this way, Lis. You wait for everybody else to bend to what you want, without giving them a chance to be honest. You automatically assume I’m wrong without ever considering my side of things.”
Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I should have known it,” she sobbed. “I should have known you would do something this thoughtless. Just because you needed someone temporarily—”
“That’s not what I meant.” He took a step towards her and gripped her shoulders. “Just listen to me on this. Don’t just assume things.”
“I don’t have to,” she answered. “I already know.” She shoved him away and marched towards the lodge again.
“Lisel, wait,” he called. She refused to turn around. Her gloved hand brushed away the tears rolling down her cheeks. Faster and faster they came, turning chill in the winds of early Christmas morning.
How could she have believed there might be a future for them? That this would end with them being different people, exchanging secret glances and smiles at work. Instead of tossing coffee beans in a rage over altered business reports and stolen desk calendars.
Marc would never admit he was wrong about anything he had done. And there was no way she was admitting her own mistakes without evidence that he was willing to participate. To him, the past was perfectly justifiable. Business was business— just as the last week was meant for fun.
She locked her room door and buried her face in a bed pillow. She muffled her sobs, afraid someone would hear her. Not for anything would she have anyone know what had just happened.
There was a soft knock on the door. She heard the sound of Marc’s voice and buried her face deeper. Hoping he would go away and leave her alone.
