by Anthology
1
If Eric Spade had to listen to “Simply Havin’ a Wonderful Christmas Time” for one more second, he was going to call an emergency staff meeting.
Though, in truth, he probably should have gotten one together anyway.
The firm had only seven days before the biggest deal in the history of Marley & Marley Real Estate, and still all anyone could talk about was what they’d gotten their kids for Christmas, or which company sold the best eggnog.
It was enough to drive any man insane, let alone Eric, who thought he would have been spending a major breakthrough like this with his—now former—business partner. But no, nobody cared about the extra strain on him since Jake Marley had left the company, or the new direction Eric had been working tirelessly to promote since becoming CEO.
The moment after the Thanksgiving pie had cooled, all anyone could talk about was the freaking holidays.
Even for today, Christmas Eve, the non-stop holiday talk was beyond excessive.
How did they not realize that all this fuss was for one single day of the year? Did they truly think it was worth all the pomp and circumstance of this chatter and prep and cookie swapping? Couldn’t they just move on and focus on what was important instead of this sham holiday to pacify the masses?
Eric sighed, flicked a random piece of paper on his desk, and then groaned as “Simply Havin’ a Wonderful Christmas Time” morphed into “Little Saint Nick”.
He glanced toward the frosted glass door and glared at the silhouette of his secretary as she bounced along to the beat and fiddled with something he could only assume was the volume on her radio dial. Gritting his teeth, he held down the buzzer on the corner of his desk. “Bobbi, will you turn that off?”
“If we have to be here on Christmas Eve, don’t you think we should at least get something out of it?”
“You get a paycheck out of it,” he said. “Unless you’d rather not have one of those.”
When Bobbi didn’t answer, he released the little red speaker button, and sat back in his chair, just in time to see her move nearer. With the click of his doorknob, she shuffled inside, and then snapped the door closed behind her again.
“Mr. Spade, I think we need to talk.” She didn’t quite meet his eyes when she spoke, and it was all he could do not to sigh and shoo her back out the door. Still, it was Christmas. Apparently that meant something to everyone here, if not to him.
He settled for saying, “I don’t know what about.”
“It’s just...We’re not going to be able to get this done.” She chanced a glance at him, but apparently thought better of it and set her sights on the floor again as a lock of her dull brown hair fell over her shoulder.
He squared his jaw, waiting. A long moment of silence stretched between them, and when it was clear she wouldn’t be talking again any time soon, he prompted, “What isn’t going to work?”
“It’s just...it’s Christmas Eve. Nobody wants to be here.” She let out a little sorry-sounding chuckle.
“I want to be here,” he corrected.
She glanced around his office, and he followed her gaze. In truth, there wasn’t much for her to focus on. There wasn’t even a chair in front of his desk for her to sit in. There were no pictures on the wall, no diplomas. Only a single picture frame sat on his desk, just in front of his phone. He glanced at it for a fraction of a second, just long enough to remember why he was in the shit to begin with.
He and his best friend, smiling and laughing, only weeks before Mr. Marley Sr. had retired and promoted them to running the business.
So much for that dream.
“Be that as it may”—Bobbi’s timid voice brought him back to the present—”you’re the boss. We’re not all so—”
“Dedicated?” He nearly guffawed.
“That’s not the word I would have chosen.” She pushed the errant lock of hair behind her ear, and then ran her hands down her oversized sweatshirt. “We only have seven days to put together this deal with Future Real Estate. Between Christmas and New Year’s Eve...” She tilted her lips to the side. “Don’t you think Angelica Reed would understand if you postponed the deal until after the holidays? I’m sure her office doesn’t want to—”
“Work?” he asked. Simple enough. That was the bottom of it, wasn’t it? These people weren’t used to anything being asked of them. They weren’t used to being held accountable.
She raised her hands in front of herself, defensive. “Please, just hear me out.”
“No, you hear me out. I’ve allowed you to play music and celebrate inside this office. I’ve even turned a blind eye on the fact that you seem to have forgotten how to dress for the work day.” He eyed her yoga pants as she pulled at the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Don’t you think I’ve been lenient enough with you?”
“Please, Mr. Spade—”
“No. Go home. In fact, tell everyone to go home. If passing around spiked drinks and talking to relatives you never liked in the first place is more interesting to you all than the biggest break in the history of this company, you can all have it. I’ll stay here and keep us afloat. As usual.”
He didn’t know what he’d expected her to do at the conclusion of his speech. Maybe click her heels together and run for the door to free the rest of her work-weary townspeople.
What she did, though, was she simply stood in front of him, probably wondering if he’d been serious, and continued staring around the blank landscape that was his office.
“Well?” he asked. “What are you waiting for? You wanted to go home? Go.”
“You’re going to stay here for Christmas?”
“What does it matter to you?” He didn’t know why, but a pang shot through him at the words. It was almost like she pitied him.
But then, that was the problem, too. These people, his employees, they didn’t understand the big picture. They were like Jake—no ambition, no drive. Totally content with convention and sticking to the status quo.
Bobbi shuffled her feet, but apparently she was braver than he’d given her credit for. “It’s just, don’t you normally—?”
“I have to make sure this deal happens, no matter what I usually do on the holidays. This is the chance of a lifetime and this’s the last time I’m discussing it.”
“Right.” Bobbi nodded and made her way for the door, but when she placed her hand on the knob, she turned toward him again. “Do you want your messages before I go?”
“If it’s not too much to ask.”
She nodded, and then she was gone again.
After the office had petered out and the Christmas music had finally been silenced for good, he managed to work his way through the tiny stack of messages Bobbi had taken. For the most part, they were from Angelica Reed. Questions, confirmations, and the like, all having to do with their meeting the following week.
If things went according to plan, Marley & Marley Real Estate would finally have a chunk of the New York Skyline and Angelica’s company, Future Real Estate, would glom on to his company’s tract of Connecticut Shoreline. Everyone got what they wanted. All it took was the tiniest bit of sacrifice.
Which, apparently, was impossible for anyone but he and Angelica to understand.
When he got to the bottom of the pile, yet another odd pang shot through him. Despite himself, he glanced at the photo in the corner of his desk. It’d been taken almost ten years before at a Christmas party after he’d joined the Marley’s Real Estate firm. He was in the center, grinning, with his arms around the people on either side of him.
To his right was Jake Marley, his former partner. He wouldn’t think about that, though, or the bitter taste that rose in the back of this throat. He’d focus on the person to his left. The one who’d left the message. Jake’s gorgeous sister, Caroline.
He glanced down at the note in his hands again. He should have expected this, really. Should have planned accordingly. But every time he’d thought about it...
He’d what?
He didn’t know. He just...couldn’t.
Still, it wouldn’t do not to call her back, so he picked up the receiver and dialed the number he’d known for almost as long as he could remember.
As the phone rang, he tried to muster up words to explain himself, all the while picturing what Caroline might look like on the other end. She was undoubtedly as beautiful as ever. She’d be helping her mom in the kitchen, so she’d probably have burned part of her shirt or gotten pie filling in her hair.
Caroline was always good for things like that. Things that made everyone around her smile.
But none of that mattered because Caroline’s wasn’t the voice on the end of the line.
In truth, it was far, far worse.
“Hello?” Jake’s deep rumble sounded.
Eric paused, trying to find the words, but chose only a weak, “Hey.”
“Eric.” The surprise in his voice was obvious, but light. If Eric didn’t know better, he might have even called it hopeful.
“Yup, it’s me.” Eric cleared his throat. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
The only sound was the buzz on the line between them. Then, mercifully, Jake spoke again. “Why didn’t you try my cell?”
“Actually, I hadn’t intended to call you. I didn’t think you’d be at your mom and dad’s house. I was returning a call. Caroline rang my office. I lost her cell number.”
“Right, makes sense. Knowing Caroline, she’s probably gotten a new one since then anyway.” Jake let out a strained laugh, and Eric cringed. He knew that laugh. It was the one he’d always used with clients they hated dealing with.
Of course, back when he’d heard it nearly every day, he and Jake had always followed it up with a little trash talk after the client had left.
“Right, yeah.” Eric nodded to himself. “So, is Caroline around?”
“Yeah, she’s upstairs, but, hey, we should talk.”
Eric speared a hand through his hair. “Jake, I don’t know.”
“Maybe tomorrow? After dinner or something?”
Eric sucked in a breath. Here it was. The truth. “I’m not going to be able to make it tomorrow.”
For a second, he thought the line cut out. The silence was so sharp and so deep, that he opened his mouth to repeat himself, but was saved the trouble when Jake thundered through the speaker.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Eric pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. Yep, he definitely should have planned for this. “It couldn’t be helped. I’ll explain—”
“Couldn’t be helped? Don’t give me that shit. Suddenly after I leave the company, you have to miss Christmas for the first time in twenty years? You think I don’t know what’s going on?”
“You don’t know what’s going on,” Eric rumbled. This was typical Jake, exactly as it was when they’d worked together. He’d been the boss’ son, so if he didn’t want to do something, it didn’t have to get done.
Well, Eric had never had that luxury. He couldn’t just blow off this deal—Christmas or not.
To make matters worse, Jake stormed on, “Oh, come on. If you’re going to be mad at me for leaving, be mad, but don’t do this to my mom and dad. Don’t do this to Caroline. You’re part of the family. They want to see you.”
Eric knew that. He knew it better than Jake. And Jake could never know how it hurt him to go so long without seeing them all. But now that Jake had left the company, how could they all sit together and be the same again?
As if it wasn’t hard enough being in the same room with Caroline…
Jake couldn’t understand; that was the root of this. Maybe, though, Eric could at least get him to listen. He pressed on. “If you’d listen, I’d tell you—”
“I couldn’t fucking do it, okay? I couldn’t live my life in that tiny little box of an office, shuffling papers and busting my ass every hour of the day. My dad did it, but I couldn’t, and one day you’re going to realize you can’t do it, either. You can’t live your life on take out in your office and half-assed dates between meetings. I don’t know what it’ll take to get you to see it. Maybe three ghosts will have to show you the error of your ways or something.”
“Don’t be dramatic. Look, I’m not getting into this. The past is behind us. I only called to talk to Caroline, so could you please just go get her for me?”
“Whatever.”
Silence reigned again and Eric raked a hand over his face. Well, that had not gone better than expected. Still, why should he give a shit about what Jake had to say? He’d made his intentions known when he left Eric high and fucking dry three months ago.
He didn’t fucking care.
“Hello?” The lilting feminine voice he knew so well filled the speaker and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Hey. You called?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah. I was just wondering what time you’ll be here tomorrow. Mom is letting me cook this year and I didn’t want to dry out the turkey.”
“Oh.” The blood drained from his face. It shouldn’t have, though. If anyone would understand what was going on, it was Caroline. Sure, maybe she’d be disappointed, but she’d understand. She had to.
Yet, even as he thought about it, the image of her standing there, the receiver pressed to her heart-shaped face, made his heart plummet into his stomach. He knew how the bow of her mouth would wilt, how she’d shake her blond head and shrug like it was no big deal, all while twirling a piece of her blunt bangs between her fingers.
That was what she always did when she was devastated.
That didn’t mean he had a choice, though. Maybe if they’d run the company the way Jake had wanted and kept things the same, he’d have been able to make it back…
But that wasn’t the case. The company was moving up in the world, and so was he. He had to skip Christmas, and he had to tell her as much. It would be worse of him, weak of him, not to. So he swallowed his pride and said, “I’m not going to be able to make it this year. There’s a big merger next week and I have to work through the holiday. But the good news is your dad’s company will have its name on a skyscraper.”
“Oh, he’ll be excited to hear that.” Her voice wasn’t as convincing as her words, so he tried again.
“You know, when they open the first building, we should carve his name in the stone. It’ll be a real legacy. That’s even better than being home for Christmas.”
“Yeah. He’d like that.”
All he could see was the twirling of her hair, the way her fingers tugged at the golden strands.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Oh yeah, just thinking about dinner. I’ll have to send you some.”
“That would be awesome. I’m sure you’re gonna do great.”
“Yeah. We’ll see. Dad keeps joking about upping the house insurance in case I set the place on fire.” She let out her own tiny, fake laugh, and this time he joined her.
How was it that his chat with Caroline was a million times calmer than his talk with Jake, but hurt a billion times more?
“You’re going to be great, Caroline. Trust me.”
“Thanks. Um, I think I’d better start prepping. I still have a lot of gifts to wrap.” He could still hear the edge in her voice, but there was nothing left for him to do. The damage was done.
“Right. Okay.” He nodded.
A pause on the line. “So... Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
“And Eric?” Her voice was tentative.
“Yeah?”
“I’ll…Well, we’ll all miss you.”
“Yeah, I’ll miss you, too. All of you, I mean.”
Eric hung up the receiver, shuffled the papers in front of him, and then leaned back in his chair again.
He had no reason to feel guilty. Hell, it wasn’t as if he’d cancelled Christmas all together. He hadn’t even said anything to Jake about the company’s bind being partially his fault. And besides, since when was it such
a crime to be ambitious?
If anything, they should have been happy. Grateful, even. It wasn’t like he was working his tail to the bone for Spade Real Estate. This was their father’s company, not his.
It was their name that would light the cityscape. Eric wouldn’t have had it any other way, not for all the love and compassion they’d given him while he’d grown up down the block from them—first when his father left, and then when his mother had gotten sick…
Mr. and Mrs. Marley deserved everything, including their names on the biggest real estate company on the face of the Earth. Eric owed them that.
Jake had to understand. And if he couldn’t, then surely Caroline would be the voice of reason.
She always had been. Even when they were kids, she’d been the one to determine who’d shoot who first with the water gun or who’d call dibs on which cheerleader when. Caroline was always there to mediate and help.
Which might be why, even an hour after their call and a hundred answered emails later, he couldn’t shake the feeling her voice had left behind.
It wasn’t so much disappointment as...what? Regret?
So similar to that night all those years ago...
He shook his head, and picked up the notes from Angelica Reed.
After making the city’s strongest pot of coffee, he set to work again, taking the time to carefully answer each of Angelica’s questions, and then hunkering down to look at the comps in all her company’s holdings.
It seemed like they went on forever, and by the time he’d gotten through both lunch and dinner, he had yet another fat stack of emails to get through. Snow came down outside his window, but he barely glanced at it.
He just sat there, perched in his seat, focused on his task.
If the Marleys couldn’t appreciate this, screw them. And screw everyone in the office, too.
