Copyright © 2019 by Kelli Callahan
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Forbidden Kiss
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Kelli’s Voracious Vixens
About the Author
Also by Kelli Callahan
Chapter One
Elly
It was the most wonderful time of the year—not. It was getting colder every day, all of my favorite radio stations were playing holiday music instead of what I wanted to hear, and I couldn’t even go to the grocery store without being guilt-tripped into donating money to the Salvation Army. It seemed like the festivities started earlier every year. The holiday decorations in my city had been up since the day after Halloween, and I was ready for the season to be over before the turkeys went on sale for Thanksgiving. I was almost certain that one day, kids were going to be dressed as elves and snowmen on the last day of October, so they could collect candy from people in ugly sweaters and Santa Claus costumes.
I couldn’t even escape the holiday season at work because everyone in the office seemed to be obsessed with creating the perfect Winter Wonderland. I thought they should be focused on the mountain of work that needed to be done—not wasting company time on something they would have to tear down in a couple of months. The Christmas Mafia, as I liked to call them, was led by an older lady named Mary Smith. She looked like the real-life version of Mrs. Claus—and acted like the most important thing she did around the office was enforcing holiday cheer.
“Elly, you haven’t decorated your stocking yet!” Mary walked up to my desk and pointed at the stocking that had been lying there for almost a week. “It was supposed to be done before you left on Friday!”
“I had a lot of work to do.” I gave her a side-eyed glance and grumbled under my breath. “I’ll staple a bow on it before I leave today.”
“And put your name on it? And hang it up?” She furrowed her brow and narrowed her eyes at me.
“Yes, Mary. I’ll take care of it.” I nodded quickly.
Just so you don’t have to make another trip to my desk.
“Good.” A smile spread across her face. “There are cookies in the break room if you want one. I made snow-people!”
Of course you did.
“Thanks.” I forced a smile and kept working.
That’s a hard pass.
Despite my animosity towards the Christmas Mafia and Mary’s festive cheer, I wasn’t born with a hatred for the holidays. The little girl that used to run down the stairs on Christmas morning would have been appalled to see what the twenty-one-year-old version of herself would become if she had a magic mirror to see the future. She was so vibrant and happy—she loved to sing Jingle Bells and watch National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation from the top of the stairs when her parents thought she was in bed.
That little girl had no idea that her parents were going to get divorced when she was twelve years old. She didn’t know that she would be traded between the two people she loved most every holiday—until her father remarried, and a new baby took her place in his life. Hugs, kisses and bedtime stories turned into phone calls with his new wife in the background, yelling that she needed him to get off the phone and help with the baby. Then that little girl watched the same thing happen in the only home she had left when a man swept her mother off her feet.
That little girl was forced to grow up way too fast.
“Your stocking still isn’t decorated…” Mary passed my desk shortly after lunch and motioned to the stocking that hadn’t moved from the spot it was in earlier.
“I told you that I would take care of it before I left today.” I glared at her until I was sure she wasn’t going to stop.
“Why do you have all that Scrooge in your voice, Elly?” Another coworker, a petite blonde named Maggie, walked up behind me. “Are you going to start tearing down the Christmas decorations and yelling bah humbug at us?”
“I didn’t do that last year, did I?” I stopped typing and turned towards her.
“You were still kind of new last year. Everyone thought you were shy.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “This year, people think you just hate Christmas. I told them that was crazy. Nobody hates Christmas.”
You would be surprised….
“I’m just trying to get my work done.” I motioned to my computer. “Mr. Thornton gave me a shot at designing the online ad-copy for Dillinger’s Department Store. I’d rather make sure I don’t screw that up than decorate a stocking…”
“I assume he put you on the non-holiday ad-copy.” She raised an eyebrow.
“That’s been done for a long time. I’m working on spring.” I motioned to my computer. “Want to take a look? I could use your expertise.”
“I don’t really have any experience designing ad campaigns.” She shook her head back and forth.
“You shop at Dillinger’s, don’t you?” I narrowed my eyes.
“Of course.” She nodded.
“Do you click on ads when they pop up on Facebook?” I tilted my head inquisitively.
“Yeah…” Her head snapped back slightly. “Have you been spying on me?”
“No, you’re just my target demographic.” I smiled and pointed at my screen. “Would you click on this?”
“Is that purse going to be in the spring collection?” Her eyes got wide, and she moved closer to my computer.
“I’ll take that as a yes…” I laughed under my breath and showed her a few more ideas that I was working on.
Dillinger’s wasn’t the biggest accounts in Thornton Advertising’s portfolio by any means, but it was the most important one I had ever been asked to work on. I got my start at the company as an intern, and when a rival poached several of the guys from their Digital Media department, I was offered a full-time job if I could start immediately. I jumped on the opportunity, even though it meant putting college on the backburner for a little while. It was the kind of job I hoped I would land after graduation anyway, so I didn’t see myself as a drop-out. There were plenty of people with a degree that would have traded places with me in an instant. They just weren’t at the right place at the right time.
“The stocking…” Mary walked by with a whimsical hum in her voice, almost like she was trying to sing her words. “It isn’t decorated.”
“I swear to—” I hopped up from my desk and prepared to tell Mary exactly where she could shove her stocking—but my boss was standing right in front of me. “Hello, Mr. Thornton!”
“Elly…” He tilted his head. “When will I see your drafts for the Dillinger account?”
“I should have them to you by the end of the day.” I nodded quickly.
“Good.” He nodded. “And your stocking?”
“I’ll have tha
t done before I leave as well.” I stifled my sigh until he walked away.
Mr. Thornton normally didn’t pay much attention to the Christmas Mafia as long as they got their work done. I thought it was a given that they weren’t putting in the kind of effort they should have been if they had so much spare time on their hands. He was the last person in the office I expected to take a personal interest in the status of my stocking—but if he cared enough to mention it, then I needed to make sure I kept my promise. I would have blown off Mary without thinking twice, but Mr. Thornton decided whether or not I had a desk to come back to the next day. My stocking moved up on my list of priorities—firmly in the number two spot behind the ad-copy for Dillinger’s Department Store.
I finished the ad-copy as promised and emailed it to Mr. Thornton. I spent the rest of my day going through emails and responding to the ones that needed my attention. The office was almost empty before I finally reached for my stocking and tried to figure out what I was going to do with it. Every desk had one—proudly hung by their computers with care—and they were all decorated. Glue covered in glitter seemed to be the most popular option, but that was rather extreme for my tastes. I reached for a black marker, wrote my name along the top of the stocking as legible as possible, and then drew a couple of snowflakes on the red part.
“There…” I picked up a paper clip and folded it into a makeshift hook. “Now it’s decorated.”
My stocking was done, so it was time to go home. The drive was especially heinous with all the extra holiday traffic, and the fact that I wanted to pick up a bottle of wine on the way made it even more annoying. I skipped two of the stores that I normally stopped at because they had Salvation Army workers standing in front of them and turned into the parking lot for the liquor store near my apartment. They didn’t have the best selection, but I didn’t care. I got to avoid a confrontation with one of Santa’s helpers, so I was happy. The rest of the drive to my apartment was rather peaceful—except for the fact that I couldn’t turn on the radio without being audibly assaulted by Jingle Bells or Silent Night.
“Good evening Ms. Bell!” The doorman smiled when I approached. “Welcome home.”
“Thank you.” I gave him a nod and walked through the door.
I could already feel the bubble bath I was going to be soaking in while I enjoyed at least two glasses of wine and listened to some music that was completely devoid of holiday cheer. It was going to be an amazing evening, and if the mood was right, it might even be a date night. It had been a while since I put myself to bed early and took a little trip to paradise before I drifted off to sleep. It would certainly take away some of the stress I had. Thinking about it kept the smile on my face until I walked into the lobby and saw a familiar face—one of my step-cousins from my father’s other family.
“Starla?” My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“Elly!” She waved and hopped to her feet. “I was beginning to think you had plans tonight, and I came all this way for nothing.”
“No…” I tensed up when she tried to hug me. “You could have called…”
“I’ve been trying to call you.” She took a step back from our awkward embrace. “Didn’t you get my messages?”
“Oh.” I looked away to break eye contact. “Yeah, I just haven’t had time to call you back. I’ve been busy with work—you know how it goes.”
“Of course. That’s what I figured.” She smiled and nodded. “I thought it would be easier just to stop by.”
I probably should have listened to one of those messages because I have no idea why she’s here…
“And here you are…” I forced a smile.
“I assume you know why if you heard the messages?” She tilted her head. “My mom is hosting Christmas dinner for the family this year—I was hoping you would come…”
“Uh…” I put my hand on the back of my head and looked away. “I don’t know. I’ve got so much work to do.”
“Surely, you aren’t working on Christmas Day!” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you?”
“No…” I sighed as I realized that I had no more lies I could push back with.
“Good!” Her eyes slowly drifted to the bottle of wine in my hand.
She’s either mentally judging the fact I was planning to drink alone or hoping I’ll share—damn it; I think my bubble bath and date night are going to have to be postponed.
“Would you like to come upstairs and have a glass with me?” I lifted the bottle in defeat.
“Sure! That would be awesome!” She nodded quickly.
I ended up with a rather large extended family after my father remarried. My stepmother had three sisters and two brothers—her parents were either really in love, or really didn’t believe in birth control. Starla and I were almost the same age, but I had a few months on her. She was one of the few members of my extended family that acted like we were more than strangers thrown together by circumstance. That didn’t mean I wanted to have Christmas dinner with her family—but she was the first one that had ever done more than leave a voicemail to let me know that I was invited. She was also the only member of my family that had ever been to my apartment. I could have accepted her invitation and ushered her to the exit, but I would have felt guilty after she came all that way—I did have a heart, even if I wasn’t in the holiday spirit.
“So, what’ve you been up to lately?” I handed Starla a glass of wine and sat down. “Are you still on the college treadmill?”
“Yeah.” She nodded and sipped her wine. “Did you ever go back, or is the new job keeping you busy?”
“Too busy at the moment.” I shrugged. “I’d like to finish one day, but it isn’t really necessary right now—it’s not like they’re going to start paying me more money because I have a degree.”
“That makes sense.” She nodded again and looked around my apartment. “You don’t have a Christmas tree?”
“No.” I shook my head quickly.
“Not even a wreath—or mistletoe?” Her eyes continued to wander.
“You know I’m not a big fan of the holidays.” I took a rather large sip of my wine.
“Yeah…” She sighed. “Those first few years after your parents got divorced were hard.”
More than just the first few years—I just finally decided that it was better to lower my expectations than expect my parents to meet them.
The year my father started dating again was the most difficult one of all. Instead of spending Christmas morning with my mother and going to his house to open more presents like I had done the previous year, he took me to meet his girlfriend’s family. I got lost in a sea of people I didn’t know after he dragged me around for the initial introductions. I learned that I was no longer as important to my father as I used to be—I was just baggage that he was obligated to haul around. If it hadn’t been for Starla, I would have probably hidden behind the Christmas tree until it was time for us to go.
“I know it was kind of pushy of me to show up here uninvited.” Starla finished her glass of wine and reached for the bottle. “It’s just been a couple of years since you’ve come for Christmas Dinner, and nobody should have to spend the holidays alone…”
“I’m sure you’re the only one that noticed I wasn’t there.” I rolled my eyes and refilled my glass of wine.
“Your dad loves you…” She let her words trail off.
Maybe he does, but that doesn’t change the fact that he slowly began to forget I existed after he got a new family.
“I’ll stop by for a little while.” I nodded and sipped my wine.
It was always obvious that I was only there because my father felt like he was obligated to bring me. When I turned sixteen and was officially old enough to drive myself, I still went—for a couple of years. I realized that I could walk through the door, say hello to a few people, give my father his gift, and be back in my car before the hood got cold. Eventually, I stopped going entirely. The holiday season turned into a transa
ction. I had my father’s gift shipped to his house—he normally just mailed me a check. I wasn’t sure how long we would even bother to do that. He had his life, and I had mine—I felt like I had outgrown my family.
“Your mom isn’t planning anything, right?” Starla got up and walked to the window.
“Another cruise, probably.” I shrugged. “My stepfather’s family doesn’t celebrate Christmas at all—religious reasons.”
“Ah, yeah. I remember you telling me that once.” Starla nodded. “Wow, you’ve got a really nice view from up here.”
She apparently wants to change the subject as much as I do.
“It’s not bad.” I stood up and walked over to the window. “Thornton Advertising’s parent company owns a lot of real estate in the city, and we get a very nice discount—otherwise, I would never be able to afford a place like this.”
“You have a balcony too?” Starla’s eyebrows raised, and she walked over to look outside.
“Yeah, but it’s a little cold for that right now.” I shivered at the thought of it.
“True…” She nodded. “So, what have you been up to? I feel like it’s been a while since we talked. Are you dating anyone?”
“Nah, I don’t have time for dating.” I shook my head back and forth. “You?”
“No, not because I don’t have time—I just haven’t met anyone that I clicked with.” She sighed. “I did sign up for a new dating site though, so maybe my luck will change before the end of the holiday season.”
“The holiday season?” I raised an eyebrow. “Are you giving up if Santa doesn’t leave you a hot guy under the Christmas tree?”
Her Secret Santa Page 1
