All I Want For Christmas Is a Reaper

by Liana Brooks

  “You looked me up?” I guessed.

  It was fair, I’d looked him up—double-checked to see if he was single, wondered for a few minutes about whether or not he had a type. A pointless waste of time, but fun.

  Seth nodded thoughtfully. “The video didn’t pop up in any of the internet searches.”

  “Ah, so you saw the Christmas firings.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Basic business one-oh-one, isn’t it? Know who you’re dealing with.” He shook his head. “I can’t picture you firing that many people with a smile.”

  “I’m a grim reaper. I do everything with a smile.” Three thousand, five hundred and one people lost their jobs on Christmas Eve because of me, and I had smiled for the cameras.

  Seth tucked his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “Was it easy for you?”

  “Yes.”

  Seth’s bio on the Slasher website had talked about his working-class roots. His mother had been a nurse, his dad did renovation; they’d lived just above the poverty line and both died before he graduated college. It was easy for him to see the mass layoff as a death sentence.

  He stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “Do you know what happened to them after the firings?”

  “Yes.”

  “How many of them died?” Another step.

  “None.”

  “Really?” He was close enough to be threatening, or to kiss.

  “Really.” My smile grew wider. “In fact, several sent me notes in response to the New Year’s Day cards I sent out. I believe in follow through and the personal touch.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You sent them all cards?”

  “Yes. Mailed them out on Boxing Day.”

  Seth’s scowl turned to an uncertain frown. He tilted his head in confusion.

  “The day after Christmas.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What, you had Grinch remorse and spent Christmas looking for jobs for all of them?”

  “Of course not. I did that the week of Thanksgiving.”

  Seth’s smile started in his eyes, a twinkle of smug confidence that spread and turned his baleful glare to a radiant beam. He looked like he’d won a bet with himself. It was hard not to reach out, grab a fistful of his hoodie, and close the gap between us.

  He didn’t need to know the details, but since I was dropping secrets like beads at a Mardi Gras parade, I might as well throw this one in as a bonus.

  “The company was going to transfer all their contracts unilaterally and start all the workers as new hires, with minimum pay. People who had spent nineteen years at the company would lose their retirement. Seniority was gone. I convinced the company to fire them instead. Severance pay was included, and they assumed all the employees would roll over and take the new contracts being offered. The union leaders and I met, and every single one of those people had a job offer before the new year. Most had at least four to choose from. All paying better than the job they’d lost. The company folded before February.”

  “I thought your job was to make the company better,” Seth said.

  “It is. And, in this case, the best thing for that company to do was shut down, because it was run by a greedy idiot embezzling from his own coffers.” I knew my smile was cold and I didn’t care. “The media was so outraged about the number of people fired that they never bothered to ask why.”

  No one ever asked women why. There was only judgment, never understanding.

  “And so the world moves on, with my reputation as world’s worst woman confirmed for the masses. The man in the green car might have been here for me, but don’t worry, you’re not liable if I get attacked on your premises. Sloan and Markham has a very good life insurance policy on me. So do my parents.”

  Seth blinked as he stepped away. “Right. Green car. That’s what we were discussing.”

  “And missing mistletoe.” I didn’t like the sudden distance between us, but I didn’t chase him either. If Seth didn’t want to dance, that was his choice. My smile never wavered. “Maybe you should get back to work. The world is waiting for your horror movies with jump scares and spooky, whatever-flavor-of-monster it is that everyone wants this year. And I should be hunting down that little lost mistletoe bouquet that wandered away from home.” Yup. That’s exactly what I should have been doing.

  Not waiting for Seth Morana.

  Not hoping for anything.

  He licked his lips as his gaze dipped to the ground and thunder rolled overhead. Rain hammered the rooftop.

  I headed toward the large bay door. The cards were on the table, and like Kenny Rogers said, you needed to know when to walk away.

  “Merri.” Seth’s voice caught me. “That’s not why I do it. That’s not why I make horror movies. I like fear, and I like being scared sometimes, but I don’t think scared is sexy.”

  I hid a bitter smile as I stopped to watch the storm outside the doors. “I didn’t say you did.”

  “What I like in horror stories is seeing someone scared, and then getting back up again. It may not have a happy ending, but they fight. They don’t give up. Ever.”

  “You don’t need to explain.” He needed to stop talking so I could walk away, close the door. A part of me liked Seth Morana. He was smart enough to make connections, he didn’t back down, he actually listened, which was a rare trait. I never needed anyone’s approval. But I wanted his. And that terrified me.

  “I know you don’t need anything, but I want to explain. I’m like you. I do this because it’s what feeds my soul. It’s what I’m good at.”

  Seth’s footsteps echoed between the snow-flecked pines and empty coffins of the warehouse. Pride kept me from moving. I was Merri Kriesmas. I might walk away, but I didn’t run.

  “The sexiest woman I’ve ever seen was the one who walked into my company and said she was going to steal my soul.”

  My cheeks warmed at the compliment, but I didn’t turn around.

  “You walked into my office and you stole the light. Everything else was dark, but somehow you made the room glow. A radiant moment of spring, full of color and joy, and when anyone else would have backed down or taken the easy out, you stayed. It would have been so easy for you to walk away, to make an excuse and leave Cozy with their cursed financials, but you didn’t. I admire that.”

  I was a hundred percent not crying. The warehouse was dusty.

  Seth stopped a little ways behind me, his shadow stretching out in front of us. “I’m not asking for anything. I just... thought you should know.”

  “Thank you.” I managed to get the words out without sounding like I was falling apart. Over the years I’d been called many things—but somehow compliments were in short supply.

  Being hated was easy. Being admired was... strange.

  Rolling my shoulders back, I cleared my throat. “I’m just waiting for the rain to let up a little. Then I’ll be on my way.”

  There was the soft sound of fabric moving and Seth’s hand appeared in front of me holding a black umbrella.

  “Thank you.” I took it, all too aware of the heat of his body beside me. Looking would kill me.

  There were good reasons not to flirt with Seth now.

  Professional ethics.

  Sort of.

  This was a pro bono case and I was working for Ellen, so it was a gray area.

  Okay, literally no one would care if I did flirt with him. Except maybe Seth. Who seemed open to the idea.

  My mind was a dizzy twirl of Maybes and Whatifs.

  I focused on the handle of the umbrella. It was ornate blackened wood, carved in the shape of a raven, with opal and mother-of-pearl inlays and dark red ruby accents. I’d seen the original prop certificate for it, and the price.

  The price had included real opals.

  I wiped a rogue tear away as I stared at the dazzling rainbow of fake opals. Slowly, I opened the umbrella, searching for what I already knew I’d find, mind spinning away down a path of lost dollars and false accounts.

  Oretega.[20] The name was
carved into the cane of the umbrella.

  Too late, I realized Seth was still standing there as the silence stretched awkwardly between us. My grip on the umbrella tightened as I turned to him with a smile. I was done being dizzy. “Seth?”

  He looked up at me, dark eyes filled with admiration and doubt.

  I took a deep breath. “Will you marry me?”

  “Marry you?” Seth stared at me, eyes wide with shock and—possibly—hope. “I—I’m not saying no. But divorce is expensive. And I... talk during movies?”

  I stifled a giggle. “That’s your worst trait? Talking during movies?”

  His forehead wrinkled adorably as he tried to think. “Yeah, I think. That’s probably the worst I do.”

  “I think I’ll survive,” I said stepping closer so I could tug at the pocket of his hoodie. “I just want to do all the things people do when they’re madly in love and newly engaged.”

  “I’m very willing to do that.” He was being very careful not to reach for me. “But we don’t need a wedding for that. Do we?”

  “Mmm, but I want to steal your last name. I want to go out in public, and flirt, and go ring shopping.” I waggled my eyebrows.

  Seth narrowed his eyes.

  He really was very smart. I appreciated that.

  “Have you ever stepped out of a movie and missed a major plot twist? And when you come back you have no idea what’s happening and the villain is suddenly kissing the love interest?” He tilted his head down as he smiled at me. “I feel like I missed a plot twist here. We went from mistletoe,” he pointed to Mistletoe Lane, “to your ex, to the umbrella, and now you’re proposing marriage?”

  “You did tell me I was sexy,” I reminded him.

  He nodded slowly. “I’m glad you heard that. But the triggering event seems to be the umbrella, so I’m not sure if confessing my admiration actually has anything to do with what’s going on in your head.”

  I closed the umbrella and lifted the handle to his eye level. “What do you see?”

  “Carved wood, opal, mother of pearl, and heat-treated rubies or garnets. I can’t tell.”

  “The umbrella from Ghost Of A Christmas Kiss, one of Cozy’s few supernatural romance movies.” I pulled up the prop inventory on my phone. “This is the umbrella used for close ups. It was accidentally used in a fight scene where several gems were knocked loose. Where do you think they took it for repairs?”

  Seth raised an eyebrow. “Oretega does the best gem work in the city.”

  My smile brightened. I loved it when I didn’t have to hand-feed my clients information. “Most of Cozy’s dealings with them include the name of the contractor or LLC that did the work.”

  At any given moment, Seth looked about as terrifying as a tulip. But somehow, when the shadows shifted and he set his jaw, he looked much more intimidating. “Most? Not all?”

  “Not all,” I said with a sweet smile.

  Seth looked at me and nodded. “And the umbrella?”

  “The umbrella originally had real opals and three rubies, two with inclusions. These opals are fake, and the rubies are lab created. I’d bet my buttons on it.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Look.” I pointed at the gems. “Synthetic opals are cheaper, and they have a much more regular color pattern. These look almost pixelated. The rubies? Flawless and dyed. There’s no marks in them at all. Oretega had all the original gems handed in. One opal was listed as cracked, and a natural opal mined in Australia was bought to replace it.” I tapped the handle. “None of these are natural. And a synthetic costs about a fifth of what the mined ones cost.”

  Another nod. “So where’d the money go?”

  “That’s what I’d like to find out.”

  “Am I coming along because I’m readily available, or can I feel special that you proposed to me?”

  It was impossible to tell from his expression, but he sounded a little hurt by the idea. I guess not even the big, bad reaper man of Slasher Studios wanted to come in second place to Noah The Props Guy or whoever else might have wandered in here.

  I tucked my phone back into my pocket and shook my head. “You are coming along because you are charming, charismatic, attracted to me, and even if you weren’t all of those things, you’re a fantastic actor who could fake it for a few hours. You will be the witty, debonair, wealthy man shopping for something sparkly for your fiancée—and maybe some cash back on the side where the insurance won’t notice—and I’ll play the ditzy—”

  “Fiancée,” Seth cut in before I could use something a little less complimentary.

  “I look the part.” I shrugged because he seemed upset at the implication. “Silly pink dress. Silly curled hair. Silly girl too stupid to know she’s being used and going to be tossed aside as soon as someone better comes along.”

  “Do people actually treat you like that?”

  “All the time.” A wave of regret washed over me and I let it go with a rueful sigh. “You’re too easy to talk to, did you know that?”

  Seth nodded.

  “Far too easy.” I narrowed my eyes playfully.

  He smiled and looked down at his feet before glancing up at me through long lashes. “I suppose I should go get changed into something a little fancier.”

  I shrugged. “I think you look hot in a hoodie, but suit yourself.”

  “It’s easier to convince people you’re ready to spend a lot of money when your clothes say you’ve already spent a lot of money.” He smirked. “I’ll meet you outside Slasher’s main doors in, say, half an hour?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  He winked at me and walked into the rain whistling.

  Why? Why had I asked Seth Morana to marry me? I looked up at the passing clouds as the last of the storm dripped off the eaves of the Slasher building into the puddle in front of my feet. What colossal fit of madness had possessed me?

  Ring shopping on a Saturday afternoon? I had minions for this. And, as I sat down on the wooden bench on the sidewalk outside Slasher headquarters, watching the drips falling from the eaves, I tapped my phone on my thigh and considered calling a minion.

  I knew the answer to why, of course. I’d been the stand-alone She in my Nanigans for a long time. Using the office staff felt a little like cheating, and a lot like stealing someone’s well-earned weekend.

  Plus, this technically wasn’t a Sloan and Markham operation.

  But asking Seth to come with me?

  That was my fault. Mostly.

  If he’d followed the script and run away at the mention of marriage the way most people do, it wouldn’t have been a problem. He could have brushed me off. He could have said no. He could have laughed in my face.

  He had a plethora of options and he went with, ‘I’m not saying no...’

  I rolled my eyes.

  A bright orange sports car with a black racing stripe on the lateral line screeched to a halt in front of the building, sending a wave of water spraying over the sidewalk. It was, I had to admit, a theatrical opening and a beautiful shot.

  The tinted window rolled down and Seth Morana grinned out at me. “Hiya, Killer.”

  “Hello, Lover.” A smile hid all my worries. I stood up, brushing off my skirt and grabbing my tiny satin clutch that matched my blue shoes, my hair fascinator made of blue pearlescent beads, and the blue hydrangeas on my skirt.

  Seth had changed into a matching blue shirt and black slacks that made my casual estimation of his net worth jump up by several tax brackets. “You like?”

  “I like. We’re the cute, matchy couple.”

  “It’s mostly by accident,” Seth said as I buckled in. “I didn’t have time to run home, so I had to raid the offices for something that fit. Nicah let me borrow his car and his clubbing clothes.”

  “Those are clubbing clothes?”

  “Gay bars have standards.” Seth shrugged.

  Nicah obviously went to better gay clubs than the ones Lucky dragged me to. “He has impeccable taste
.”

  “And six years working as a costumer and tailor,” Seth said. “The man is magic.” The Slasher CEO’s eyes slid over me again. “You changed something, what is it? You were all business when I saw you and now you look... sparklier.”

  “A layer of shimmery lip gloss and some eyeliner.” As he stopped at a red light, I turned so he could see my face.

  Seth nodded. “Nicely done.” He handed me a box. “A little addition to your costume today.”

  “Thank you.” I hesitated for a moment, then shook it off and opened the box. A sparkling diamond necklace and matching earrings managed to shine even under the heavy clouds overhead. “This is—” Unnecessary. Overdone. Ugly.

  “Worth almost three hundred thousand.”

  Oh sweet mother of pearl. “Why?”

  “The originals are. Those are exact replicas made out of cubic zirconia. I thought they might make good bait. Besides, no one is going to believe I’m going to put a ring on your pretty finger if I haven’t already handed you some dazzle.”

  “This is an atrociously gaudy necklace.”

  “I’m promise to take it off as soon as we get home.” He shot me a billion dollar grin and a wink that had me falling in love.

  I laughed. “Stop flirting. Or I’ll tell Ellen you want to revive your acting career as the romantic lead in one of Cozy’s holiday films.”

  “No flirting?” The car pulled into traffic. “So, as the director for this afternoon’s scene, what’s your vision? Because I thought a newly engaged, madly in love couple would definitely be flirting. What do you want to see?”

  “Everything.”

  Seth hummed in delight.

  “Starting with Oretega’s account books, if possible. I’ll see those Monday either way, but if I could get them today, it might help. For the most part, I want to get a feel for the area. Check out various vendors and see what they offer. See who sounds like they’re willing to cut a deal with a rich man trying to rip off his insurance, and who throws us out. I want to see who upsells their product and who’ll try to convince you cubic zirconia is the same thing as a vintage diamond.”

  “And... if I confess I don’t know anything about gems except they’re sparkly? Is our date over?”