Elly: Are you just trying to make me laugh now?
Ian: Maybe…
Elly: It’s late. I need to go to bed.
Ian: With visions of sugar-plums dancing in your head?
Elly: Goodnight, Ian.
I plugged in my phone to charge, and I was still laughing to myself when my head hit the pillow. Ian was intentionally corny, and I always did have a thing for guys that made me laugh. The wine probably made it funnier than it should have been, but I never liked guys that took themselves seriously or thought they were god’s gift to my gender. The college I went to seemed to be infested with guys like that, and they annoyed the hell out of me. I didn’t mind confidence, but there was a thin line between being confident and being in love with yourself. I might have actually gone on a few more dates in college if my first instinct wasn’t to roll my eyes when they started trying to turn on what they called charm. I laughed at them because they were ridiculous, not because they were amusing.
Attractiveness only goes so far…
I woke up the next morning and did my usual dash around my apartment to get ready for work. I made it to the office before everyone except for Mr. Thornton, who came in so early that there was normally frost on his car by the time I arrived. The ad-copy for Dillinger’s Department Store was done for the most part, but I had plenty of work to keep me busy until Mr. Thornton had a chance to review it and recommend any necessary changes. I took care of the stuff I normally did in the mornings and was already on my second cup of coffee when most of the other people arrived at the office.
“I see you finally decorated your stocking.” Mary walked up to my desk and smiled. “Interesting design choice…”
“I told you I would take care of it.” I gave her a side-eyed glance and kept working.
“It probably won’t win the decorating contest, but it’s nice to see some Christmas spirit in your cubicle for a chance.” She nodded. “I made cookies—reindeer this time.”
“Thanks.” I managed not to roll my eyes.
“You better go grab one quick.” She smiled. “You’ll have to wait until Monday if they run out before you make it to the break room. I’m off tomorrow…”
Is it Thursday already? Wow, this week is flying by. At least tomorrow will be rather peaceful if Mary is out of the office…
I got a response from Mr. Thornton shortly before lunch with some ideas for making the Dillinger’s Department Store ad-copy pop a little more for the audience. I read through his recommendations and immediately started working on them. I wanted my first big opportunity to exceed his expectations because I saw it as a test—if I did a good job, then there would be more opportunities in the future and possibly a promotion when it was time for my annual performance review.
The Christmas Mafia didn’t seem to care much about their performance review—they were sending emails back and forth with ideas for songs they could perform at the annual Christmas party like that was their job. By the mid-afternoon, I was looking forward to the end of the day—not because I was ready to go home—but because I would have some peace and quiet at the office so I could finish my work.
Even if I get everything done before I leave the office tomorrow, I may still come in over the weekend just so I can take care of a few things—it’s not like I have anything else to do.
“Nice stocking…” Mr. Thornton walked up to my desk and chuckled. “I didn’t realize you were an artist.”
“Yeah, they call me a modern-day Monet.” I turned to him and smiled. “I’m working on the changes you recommended.”
“Good, but don’t feel like you have to rush.” He looked at his watch. “I’m actually leaving a little early today, and I have a big meeting tomorrow, so I probably won’t even see your changes until Monday.”
“You’ll definitely have it before then.” I nodded quickly.
A few people decided that Mr. Thornton’s early departure gave them permission to skip out on the last fifteen minutes of their workday. I was polite enough to reply to the people that said something to me on their way out, but I definitely wasn’t ready to stop working. After the office was mostly empty, I reached for my phone, so I could play some music while I finished making the changes to the Dillinger’s ad-copy. I was surprised to see that I had a notification from the Secret Santa Romance app—Ian had sent me another message.
Crap, I never deleted it…
Chapter Four
Ian
I thought I was going to be able to explain the mistake that led to Elly getting matched with me and then let the app work it’s magic to find another match for her once I removed my profile. Instead, her reaction prompted me to ask more questions, and her responses intrigued me. She didn’t seem to be interested in pursuing a relationship—through an app or otherwise—and her holiday spirit was basically nonexistent. I wondered what could have gotten her to that point in her life. She was young, still in college, and the entirety of her future was directly in front of her. I told myself I was going to message her again just to try and convince her to use the app—not because she was pretty—or because I enjoyed the brief banter, we had the previous night.
Ian: Your profile is still here. I guess you decided not to delete the app after all?
Elly: I meant to, but I forgot…
Ian: Ah, maybe it’s a Christmas miracle? :)
Elly: My forgetfulness?
Ian: Perhaps.
Elly: I’ll delete it later. I’m still at the office, and I have a lot of work to do.
Ian: Why not give it a shot? You might get matched with someone you like.
Elly: We covered this last night…
Ian: That’s why I’m trying to change your mind.
Elly: You won’t. I’m not looking for a relationship, and I don’t like Christmas.
Ian: But you could have the hap-hap-happiest Christmas ever.
Elly: Did you run out of traditional Christmas one-liners? Now you’re borrowing them from Clark W. Griswold…
Ian: No, I’ve got plenty more. Wait, I think we just had a breakthrough. You’ve actually seen a Christmas movie!
Elly: A long time ago, yeah…
Ian: It’s been a while since I’ve seen it too. Maybe I’ll watch it this weekend…
Elly: Have fun. I really do need to get some work done.
Ian: Okay, I’ll stop bothering you if you agree not to delete the app.
Elly: I could just delete the app and stop you from bothering me.
Ian: But I’m not out of cheesy Christmas one-liners yet…
Elly: Fine, but only because you made me laugh.
I stared at Elly’s picture on the screen for a few minutes after I ended the conversation. She really was pretty—beautiful even. She had dark raven-colored hair, misty gray eyes, and a half-smile on her lips that made it look like she wasn’t thrilled that the picture was being taken in the first place. I wondered if my cheesy one-liners had put a smile like that on her face before she finally succumbed to actual laughter.
I still didn’t quite understand why she had such a sour mood towards the holidays. I assumed there was a reason for it, but that didn’t mean it had to be a permanent outlook. I had plenty of reasons to devolve into Ebenezer Scrooge after my relationship with Abigail fell apart, but I forced myself to find a reason to keep celebrating holidays—that got easier after my niece and nephew were born.
Elly needs to find her reason. There has to be something out there that would make this time of year worth celebrating…
I normally spent my evenings alone at my house. I had become rather proficient at cooking for one and finding ways to entertain myself. I liked listening to True Crime podcasts, but I had to be in the right mood for it. Usually, if there was nothing on television, and I had read all the new books by my favorite authors, I would just end up working. There was never a shortage of that. The only drawback was that when I worked, I created work for my team, so they weren’t always thrilled to walk in the next day to a slew of ne
w assignments. I was just about to pour myself a drink and pick up my remote when my phone lit up with a notification—I had a message from Elly.
Elly: I’m done at the office. If you’re going to annoy me with one-liners, now is the time.
Ian: How about a Christmas joke?
Elly: A joke?
Ian: It’ll make you laugh.
Elly: Fine…
Ian: What kind of Christmas music do elves like?
Elly: Christmas carols?
Ian: ‘Wrap’ music!
Elly: Oh my god, that’s even worse than your one-liners.
Ian: Did you laugh?
Elly: A little…
Ian: Then it was a good joke, right?
Elly: Don’t quit your day job. :)
Ian: Ouch.
Elly: Trust me, I’ve got your best interests in mind.
Ian: I’m sorry, all of my one-liners and jokes have to be age appropriate. My niece and nephew are the only ones that normally hear them.
Elly: That explains why they’re basically dad-jokes.
Ian: Fine, do you want to hear a dirty joke?
Elly: Sure…
Ian: Why does Santa have three gardens?
Elly: It’s too cold for a garden in the North Pole.
Ian: You’re ruining the joke!
Elly: Fine. Why does Santa have three gardens in the frozen tundra?
Ian: So he can… Are you ready?
Elly: I’m on the edge of my seat.
Ian: So, he can ho-ho-ho!
Elly: Wow, that’s so dirty I need a shower.
Ian: I warned you.
Elly: If that’s the dirtiest joke you know, you will hate all of mine.
Ian: You’ve got jokes too? I want to hear one.
Elly: It’s definitely not age appropriate for anyone with young ears.
Ian: Your ears are the youngest ones in this conversation. I don’t mind.
Elly: Are you sure?
Ian: Yes…
Elly: What happens when you play with Santa’s balls?
Ian: Uh… He gets merry?
Elly: I’m sure he does… But you also get a White Christmas…
Ian: I won’t be telling my niece and nephew that one until they’re in their thirties!
Elly: Did you laugh?
Ian: I did.
Elly: Good. :)
Elly and I traded a few more jokes—mine were safe enough to be told in church. Some of hers were so dirty that a shower wasn’t completely out of the equation. I started wondering if she was just trying to test my limit and see if she could get me to end the conversation because she was going in the complete opposite direction of my jokes. I didn’t mind crude or filthy humor. I was no stranger to locker room talk, even if I had matured a little as I got older, but my favorite movies were rarely appropriate for my niece or nephew. I couldn’t even remember when I went from being the guy that told jokes like the ones that Elly was so proud of to recycling dad-jokes, but it probably coincided with the arrival of my sister’s kids.
I never expected to feel old before I turned thirty-five…
“Mr. Alexander, we have some good news to share.” Joe stepped into my office as soon as I took the first sip of my morning coffee.
“Yeah?” I looked up at him. “I could use some of that.”
“The new update? It’s working great. We’ve almost doubled the number of daily matches on the app and—are you ready for the best part?” He tilted his head and smiled.
“If it’s better than that, I definitely am.” I nodded enthusiastically.
“We already have a twenty-percent success rate.” His smile turned into a huge grin.
“Wait…” I leaned back in my chair. “Twenty percent of the people who got matched on the app have already exchanged gifts!?”
“They have.” His enthusiastic nod got faster. “The projections said that we wouldn’t have results until after Christmas since a lot of people wouldn’t exchange gifts so soon, but we were wrong—they’re still going to be talking about our app by the time Christmas rolls around next year.”
“Then it sounds like we’ll be making a sequel.” I chuckled under my breath. “That’s great news.”
“We’re also working on the app for Benson Enterprises. I think we’ll have a mock-up ready by the end of the week.”
“Perfect.” I took another sip of my coffee.
The success rate so early in the life of the app was an interesting development. We still had to find a way to transition the general interest in our product to another app after the holiday season was over, but it sounded like we were going to have a very nice accomplishment to tout when the time came. There as a different energy in the office once Paul’s news spread. It was normally a good atmosphere, but having a successful endeavor made the whole building buzz with excitement. Part of that was the Profit-Sharing bonus structure I created when I started the company. It was beginning to look like everyone was going to get a very nice check when we finished our annual profit report.
I usually keep the figures a secret so that I can surprise everyone, but this app is doing so well that they’re going to know ahead of time.
I went to Famous Sid’s on my lunch break and decided to get a table since I didn’t have anything else to do before I returned to the office. Samantha was meeting a friend for lunch, which meant she wasn’t even waiting on me to return with her order. It was rare for her to take a lunch break—despite my insistence that she take one every day. I assumed the news about the app had made her feel like she could spend an hour away from the office for a change. Nothing was going to fall apart because we stepped away from our computer to eat lunch.
After I finished my meal, I looked at a few news articles on my phone and scanned my custom feed, which delivered anything relevant to Alexander Software or one of our competitors. I was pleased to see a few positive articles about the Secret Santa Romance app. We were one step away from going completely viral, and it was only a matter of time if the success rate had already hit twenty percent.
I probably shouldn’t bother Elly. She’s either in class or at work—but I don’t think one joke would hurt. I’m sure she must take a lunch break too…
There was something about Elly that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I was a long way from looking for a relationship or any form of romance when we got accidentally matched on the app. I still wasn’t sure that my heart was capable of loving someone other than the one that got away, but I enjoyed my interactions with Elly. Maybe her lack of enthusiasm for the holidays just presented a unique challenge that piqued my interest—or maybe I just enjoyed making her laugh.
She would have already deleted the app if she wanted me to stop…
Chapter Five
Elly
I was having a bad day—not just a bad day, the worst day. There was some sort of server issue at work that required them to reboot it. When it came back online, all the updates I stayed late to make to the Dillinger’s Department Store ad-copy were gone. The guy from IT told us that something got corrupted, so he restored the server from the last backup, which was at five o’clock the previous day. That was perfectly fine for everyone else—they didn’t stay late. I spent my entire morning in a foul mood when I should have been excited to have a day without Mary’s holiday cheer. The one day, I might have smiled when I passed by her desk—and I didn’t even have time to go get a cup of coffee.
“Mr. Thornton, I’m so sorry.” I jumped up from my desk when he walked by. “I stayed late last night, so I could have the changes ready for you, and the server issue deleted everything I did.”
“Elly, relax.” He tilted his head slightly. “I told you I won’t even have a chance to look at it until Monday.”
“I know.” I nodded. “I just wanted you to have it as soon as possible.”
“Don’t stress. Seriously.” He waved off my concern. “I’m sure it’ll be as excellent as your stocking.”
Was that supposed to mean he has fait
h in me, or that I should do a better job?
My boss told me not to stress—his comment made me stress more than ever—and it just compounded on top of the bad day I was already having. It was Friday, so everyone was excited about the weekend, but I didn’t care. I planned to work straight through—possibly even sleep under my desk if necessary. Who was I kidding? I could skip sleep entirely. There was enough coffee in the building to keep me going until Monday morning.
I worked so hard that when people started to leave for the day, I realized that in addition to finishing the Dillinger’s Department Store ad-copy and the rest of my work, I had already plowed my way through the stuff I had on my calendar for Monday.
I’ll recheck the Dillinger’s ad-copy, and then look it over again tomorrow just to be safe. If he really isn’t going to look at it until Monday, then I’ll use the extra time to make sure it is absolutely perfect.
I decided that I had gotten enough work done to swap the coffee in my plan to wine and sleep in my own bed. There was definitely a bubble bath in my future, and I hoped I wouldn’t have any surprises in the lobby of my apartment building because date night would alleviate some of the stress that had been building all day. I shut down my computer and pulled my phone out of my purse as I walked to the elevator. I had a message from Ian—a message that had been sitting there unanswered since lunch.
Ian: Do you want to hear a joke?
I shook my head and laughed to myself after reading his message. I really could have used a joke earlier in the day when my stress was at its highest. The elevator closed, and I started typing my reply.
Elly: I’m sorry for the late response. I was at work. Still got a joke for me?
Ian: Absolutely!
Elly: How about one that has nothing to do with the holidays.
Ian: Okay. What’s the easiest way to get straight A’s.
Elly: Is this a dirty joke? I know one way that doesn’t involve studying… :)
Ian: Ha! No, the easiest way to get straight A’s is to use a ruler!
Her Secret Santa Page 4
