December 3

DECEMBER 3

Mya and I arrived to work at the same time, and I grinned at her getup. Specifically, the antlers in her hair.

The entire office had breathed a collective sigh of relief yesterday when they got everything up and running again, so I had a feeling people were ready for the office party later today. I knew I was.

“Cute antlers, hon.”

“Cute hat, darling.” Mya flicked the fuzzy ball at the end of my Santa hat. “Wanna get breakfast with me upstairs?”

I checked my Fitbit. Yeah, we had time. “Sure. I guess today isn’t the day you bring food from home.”

“Correct. I love sleep too much.”

I smirked and stepped into the elevator after her. The car filled up quickly, and I adjusted my messenger bag to make room. It was packed to the limit today because I was gonna hand out a crap-ton of Christmas cookies, something I’d started doing two years ago. Not to everybody—I couldn’t afford that—but at least to the people on my floor and a few others. Like Mr. Abrams.

“I have a new goal in life, by the way.” I spoke for only Mya to hear. “I’m gonna make Mr. Abrams nicer.”

She choked on a laugh and clearly thought I was kidding.

“I’m serious.”

“Doh, yeah, sure,” she laughed. “And I’m marrying Mila Kunis.”

She probably had a better shot.

Once we reached the sixth floor, we went into the cafeteria, where Mya got her usual yogurt cup and blueberry muffin. A few employees were already busy hanging up decorations for the party.

Fuck, I was getting excited. I didn’t drink often, but when I did, I drank all of it. And they were generous at this company. The bar opened at five, and it was damn near bottomless.

“Are you going home over the holidays?” I asked.

Mya shook her head and pinched off the top of the muffin. “I left Hawaii for many reasons. The lack of snow in the winter is one of them. I’m heading to Aspen with some friends.”

“Damn. I’m jealous.” I loved the snow in the winter too.

“What are your plans?” she asked.

I shrugged and eyed a guy walking past. He reminded me of the dude I’d made out with at last year’s holiday party. I couldn’t be sure… “My sister and I have two options. Either we head up to Thousand Oaks and spend Christmas with our grandmother and her two sisters, or we go see our parents in Pensacola.”

Actually, my sister had a third option. She might very well be with her boyfriend. They’d been together almost a year now.

“We’ll see what happens, I guess,” I said with another shrug. “Our folks are flying in for my birthday on the fifteenth, so it’s possible we’ll celebrate Christmas early, and then I’ll just Netflix my way through the actual holidays.”

I wouldn’t mind that. Much.

* * *

“Almost done, almost done, almost done,” I rambled. My department had already forgotten that Kim, Mya, and I had helped them all week. Mr. Williams had let them finish work an hour early, whereas my cronies and I had to go on till five. Not cool.

People in the cubicle area right outside our little nook were chatting and waiting for the moment they could head up to the cafeteria and start liquoring themselves up. I was jealous.

“Save file,” I muttered under my breath.

Henric, one of the hero coders of the week, poked his head in. “Parker, I hear you’re impossible to embarrass.”

Mya giggled but didn’t look away from her screen.

“I may or may not have a reputation from previous holiday parties.” I was exaggerating. Last year, someone dared me to sing karaoke. Easiest twenty bucks I ever made, considering I would’ve done it for free. The year before, I’d ended up in a swordfight with giant dildos. I still didn’t know who’d thought it’d been a good idea to bring sex toys to work. But it’d been fun!

The trick was to go nuts once Mr. Abrams and a couple other boring higher-ups had gone home.

Henric smirked and pulled out a roll of bills from his pocket. “Hundred bucks if you attend the party wearing nothing but your underwear and that Santa hat.”

Hot damn. For a hundred bucks, I could afford a nicer present for Nana.

“That’s all?” I asked to make sure. “Underwear and Santa hat?”

“The whole party,” he added. “At least till ten o’clock. You can’t run off and hide.”

Why would I hide? I had a nice body. I only wished I’d picked more festive underwear. Maybe red or green briefs instead of plain white.

“Leave the money with Mya.” I jerked my chin at my friend. “She’ll hold it until it’s mine.”

“That was easy.” Henric went over to Mya and handed her the cash. “I’m looking forward to seeing you without clothes all night.”

My eyebrows went up, and it was quickly followed by a grin. How about that, Henric was flirting with me. Not that I’d let that go very far. He’d only been working here a year, and I knew he’d banged at least four women and three guys in that time. But he was easy on the eyes, and flirting was fun. No harm in entertaining the idea for a night.

* * *

“Remind me to give Mr. Abrams the Christmas cookies later,” I told Mya as I headed into the elevator. He hadn’t been in his office when I’d made rounds at lunch, and I didn’t feel like lugging the cookies with me to the party.

I had no pockets in this outfit.

“You’re a dork.” Mya reapplied her lipstick in the mirror, and Kim was still eyeing me with laughter in her eyes.

“You act like you’ve never seen a naked guy before, babe.” I threw an arm around Kim’s shoulders and smooched her cheek. “And we both know that’s not true.”

Who could forget that she’d gotten caught with not only one but two guys in a supply closet last year?

Computer girls were the best of freaks.

“No, I act like it’s going to be hysterically embarrassing to see you prance around naked in front of our bosses,” she corrected me and pushed up her glasses. “I suggest you have at least four drinks before you face any of them.”

Her advice wasn’t bad. Even I had limits, and I could admit I’d already planned to stay in the back of the party when Mr. Abrams made his appearance.

But until then…

The elevator doors opened once we’d reached the sixth floor, and I immediately felt my mouth twisting into a grin. The only upside to getting off work fifteen minutes later than everyone else, the party was in full swing when we arrived.

The usual brightness in the cafeteria had been dimmed and replaced by disco lights and more Christmas decorations—not to mention loud music. The effect it had on me was instant. Energy buzzed through me, and I ushered my ladies straight to the cafeteria.

“Oh my God, Parker!” One of the chicks from the social media department laughed and hurried over with a tray of what looked like Jell-O shots. “I didn’t believe Henric when he told us.”

“Believe it.” I grinned and snatched two cups right away and threw them back. Oh God—candy-cane-flavored shots. Not their best idea. “Wait—I need two more. Fuck.” I coughed and screwed my eyes shut as I tossed back my third. Jesus. They definitely didn’t skimp on the vodka.

All right! I was ready to show my moves on the dance floor. And hopefully not get my feet mangled in the process. Henric could’ve at least let me keep my shoes on.

* * *

This party, no matter how energetic it was upon entry, desperately needed Kim and me. She was the only one I’d known before I started working here. We’d gone to high school together in DC, though we hadn’t been friends at the time. Then, all random-like, we’d run into each other when we’d auditioned for the same dance squad in LA.

It was the reason I’d moved here. Plus, my sister had already been in LA a year by the time I’d arrived, so I hadn’t had to go through the whole “Shit, I gotta live in my car before I find a place.”

“All right, let’s show ’em how it’s done,” Kim said.

She was the best dance partner a guy could ask for. She could be a backup dancer to the stars if she didn’t prefer working in web design. To the upbeat tune of OneRepublic’s “Run,” we carved out our own space on the dance floor, and it didn’t take long before the thirty or so people around us wanted to watch us instead.

I guessed my wearing nothing but a pair of tight briefs made it more interesting…

We danced like Justin Timberlake, like Usher, and like the queen herself, Britney.

Kim fell back, feigning a drop, right before we grabbed each other’s hands, and then I pulled her forward again so she could do a full flip around my arm. That was how we got the cheers. And all the booze we wanted. We laughed breathlessly as the song faded into another and accepted shots that maybe weren’t as bad as I’d originally thought.

“Pictures!” someone hollered over the music.

I didn’t know why they announced it. People were taking pictures of their drinks, with their friends, of those dancing, and of themselves all over the place.

“Don’t forget to use the hashtag, people!” someone else yelled.

A few of us found a table in the back of the cafeteria and spent the next hour doing more shots and speculating wildly about this year’s gift from corporate. They all knew I’d designed the logo, but I wasn’t going to blab.

“It’s another beach towel, isn’t it?” Trina slurred.

“Could be.” It wasn’t. I actually loved this year’s gift. For once, I planned on using it.

“Hey, everyone!”

I squinted toward the booming voice near the exit of the cafeteria. It was Henric.

“Time for Santa’s speech upstairs!” he announced.

Oh, my grumpy grinch in a Santa costume. I was so ready.

As I stood up, I was hit by vertigo, and I started laughing. “Holy shit.” Now I felt the shots. “I’mma hold on to you, Mya.”

“She’s more wasted than you are,” Kim guffawed.

Yeah, and Kim was what, sober? Riiight.

Since everyone was heading upstairs, we didn’t even consider one of the elevators. They’d be packed. And screw standing in line. So the three of us—and Henric, I noticed—took the stairs.

Ouch, the lights were too bright here.

“You’ve got some moves, babe,” Henric told me.

I snorted, finding that funny for some reason. Maybe it was having him call me babe. It was weird.

“Babe,” I said, sidling up next to him. “You know we’re not happening, right, babe?”

He shot me a lazy smirk. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” I would’ve draped an arm around his shoulders if I hadn’t been so damn short. Instead, I settled for linking my arm with his. “You’re hotter than sin—you already know that—but you’re way too young for me. And way too much of a player.”

He chuckled. “I’m older than you, squirt.”

I laughed. Man, I hadn’t been called squirt since kindergarten.

We left the stairwell and reached the lobby of the seventh floor at the same time as a loud group of people exited the elevators.

“By what, five or six years?” I guessed. “We’re about to hear my type give his annual holiday speech in a Santa costume.”

“He’s got a serious Daddy fetish,” Mya tossed over her shoulder in agreement.

Legit.

“It’s so serious that he’s ogling the most boring man on the planet,” Kim laughed.

I couldn’t help but crack up. It was true! What the fuck was I doing?

Henric merely shook his head in amusement. Then he left me to join his friends—and hopefully to find another target—but that wasn’t entirely good for me. I hadn’t leaned on him to be cute. I just needed some fucking support to stay upright.

“Hey, can someone help me, please? The world is spinning.”

Thankfully, I could count on my girls, and we supported one another on our way into the office.

This was the dull section of the party. They had Christmas music playing in the background, and they’d cleared a part of the bullpen, but the lights hadn’t been dimmed down enough, they served wine and cheese instead of shots and chips, and people were talking instead of dancing.

“The mature crowd doesn’t seem happy to see us,” Mya stage-whispered.

I grinned and scanned the cleared area, where several coworkers tried to keep up with their mellow chitchat even as the rest of us arrived with our not-so-indoor voices. Some of them threw us dirty looks.

Meow.

“They’re afraid we’re gonna steal their wine and chee…” My mouth suddenly went dry when I spotted Mr. Abrams coming out from his office. “…sus Christ, he’s sexy.”

He wasn’t the average mall Santa either. No fake beard or belly. No wig. The red costume seemed more expensive too, like the material or whatever. But it did look like he’d dusted his already graying beard white. That was fucking hot.

A bit endearing too, because I knew this wasn’t his thing. My first year here, there’d been a lot of new hires, and he’d explained that it was his uncle who enjoyed the “dog and pony show.” I still remembered it vividly, him standing there with a glass of whiskey in his hand and a charming smile on his face.

I had to make him smile again.

“I bet he’d smile if he fucked me six ways to Sunday,” I mumbled.

That made Kim and Mya laugh a little too hard, effectively directing everyone’s attention my way. Fucking great.

Mr. Abrams merely raised a brow at me, then shook his head and continued toward the little podium they set up every year. Next to it waited several burlap sacks with the gifts from corporate.

How could he be so damn composed? Not even the slightest hint of surprise at seeing me nearly naked?

“If he were gay, I’d probably do something stupid,” I said.

Down to chuckles, Mya cocked her head and eyed the boss man. “I think he is gay.”

“No! Get the fuck out.” I balked. She couldn’t say that shit to me!

“I think she’s right,” Kim mused.

I whipped my head her way. “How do you know? Have you seen him with anyone?”

“God, no—” Mya took over again “—but I worked with his niece before I transferred here. I’m pretty sure she indicated…”

Oh, balls. An indication was enough to get my ridiculous hopes up.

There was just something about him. Something underneath the ten layers of “I’d rather slit my wrists with a rusty spoon than spend an hour with you.” It was partly the calm assertiveness he exuded. His feathers were so unruffled. I kinda wanted to ruffle them a bit—or at least see if I had the ability. And what his reaction might be.

Case in point. Mr. Abrams didn’t need to ask for everybody’s attention. As he took the podium, everyone just quieted down and listened. If I went up there, I’d need a PA system to be heard.

Someone handed him a microphone, though I wasn’t sure it was necessary for the… I glanced behind me and backtracked. Okay, maybe it was needed. I guesstimated about seventy people were here. More than half the workforce at this branch.

And another case in point. Mr. Abrams’s speech was fucking boring, yet he still made the whole office listen quietly to every word he said. Sales numbers, growth, something about nine percent, plans for the coming year, blah-blah-blah.

By all means, keep talking, Mr. Abrams. But I was only interested in his voice. It was perhaps the warmest part of him.

“But not everything is about sales,” he continued. “Data shows an increase of traffic on our social media platforms and websites, primarily thanks to the changes we’ve made in design and accessibility.” Woo-hoo, I’d played a part in that. A small one. “Our goal to get visitors to spend more time with us has certainly been reached, and we see the results every day. Rebranding our event services has proved fruitful as well, and we’re noticing an uptick in small businesses not only reaching out but spreading the word.” He flicked a quick glance my way, and I smiled. I’d worked on the rebranding most of the summer. “To wrap things up, I’d like to convey my thanks for your hard work this year. A little birdie told me that the graphic designer who worked on our holiday gift was very particular about the branding not taking up too much space. ‘This is for employees, not for the company to push promotions.’”

Oh shit. I grinned.

“Yeah!” Several clapped for this certain graphic designer.

Mr. Abrams had asked around about me.

Ihad said that. I had complained about the logo being too big at first—or rather, the designated spot for the logo—and I’d basically accused corporate of wanting to turn the gift into ad space.

A few of the employees on the seventh floor joined Mr. Abrams on the podium to start handing out the gift, which, funnily enough, always got more attention than the gift that really mattered: the Christmas bonus.

While Mya and Kim rushed forward, I stayed back and kept my eye on Mr. Abrams instead. I wanted a moment with him. I was drunk enough to feel bold. To do what, I wasn’t sure of yet.

“Oh, this is cool!” someone exclaimed.

“What is it?”

Open the damn box and find out, Laura. It was a pocket grill. It didn’t actually fit inside your pocket, but close. It was tiny, folding out of a tin case, and could hold four hot dogs on a small grid placed above a little box that you put the charcoal in.

The guy at corporate had requested a large company logo on both sides. I’d bitched enough to get my way, and in the end, I’d incorporated a mountain range into the company logo and placed it on the handle of the grill.

I watched Mr. Abrams carefully plan his exit. He left the podium and slowly moved toward the corridor leading to his office, indulging a couple coworkers in chitchat on the way. The man really didn’t enjoy sticking around. But for tonight, he smiled politely and did a decent job of pretending.

There’s another corridor…

One that was way less crowded with partygoers.

I chewed on my lip and glanced behind me. I could head down there right now and intercept Mr. Abrams when he returned to his office from the other hallway. It would be a minute or two before he’d gotten past the employees who wanted a moment of his time.

Screw it, I didn’t have a whole lot to lose except face, and I could live with that. I ducked out from the party area and made my way down the corridor toward Mr. Abrams’s office. At the same time, I was due for a stern talkin’-to. Mr. Abrams was an illusion in my head. He was the epitome of my fantasies, physically. His assertiveness. His height. His age. Which, in the grand scheme of things, was nothing. My best relationship so far was probably a high school boyfriend who’d been anything but my “type.” It took a lot more than good looks to build something.

I wasn’t going to build anything with Mr. Abrams. I just wanted to test the waters and see if it might be possible to flirt or talk to him without his internal grinch ruining everything.

As I rounded the corner in the back, I noticed two young women standing near Suravi’s desk. I didn’t recognize them.

They smiled politely at me, one of them a bit more amused by my undressed appearance than the other.

“Are you waiting for Mr. Abrams?” I wondered.

One of them nodded. “He said he’d see us after his speech.” She exchanged a grin with the other one that left me feeling weird. They looked alike, both blond and pretty.

They weren’t Mr. Abrams’s…type…were they?

I had too little to go on, but my boldness had taken a hike. Either way, Mr. Abrams had plans.

So this was where I decided to go get wasted.

* * *

“Why’re you leavin’ me already?” I managed to get out. “It’s only ten or something!”

“Mya went home an hour ago.”

I squinted toward the voice and felt myself being hauled up from my chair. God—lights. Everywhere. “Too bright.” The music had died too. People had gone home… Damn, was I the last one here? The cafeteria seemed empty.

“Where do you live?” the voice asked. “I’m taking you home.”

“Uh…” If I focused really hard, I… Wait, was that— “Mr. Abrams, is that you?”

“I’m glad your eyesight works. Here. Your other friend brought you your clothes before she left.”

Fuck. His words were too many and coming too fast for my brain to process them all. I screwed my eyes shut as the floor moved beneath me, and I scratched my head—which reminded me. I was clutching money in my other hand.

“They gave me a hundred bucks to wear only this tonight,” I said. “Now I’mma buy more yarn for Nana’s Christmas gift. Yarn’s more expensive than you think.”

“I see.” Mr. Abrams disappeared. Or he sat down on the other side of the table and held up my slacks. “Put on your pants, Parker. You can hold my shoulder for support.”

Nooo, not when he was finally here and didn’t have beautiful girls waiting for him. I wanted my moment. I could get dressed later. “I have a better idea. You were Daddy Christmas earlier but didn’t hear my wish.” I batted away the pants in his hands and plopped down sideways across his lap. “It’s Santa’s job to listen, and I’ve been a good boy all year.”

Mr. Abrams cursed and quickly glanced around us.

I found that funny. “Are you afraid someone’s gonna see us, Daddy Christmas?”

“Parker, this isn’t appropriate. You need to put your clothes on so I can take you home.”

That made me pout. “You don’t wanna hear my wish for Christmas?”

He sighed and gave me an impatient look. “Out with it, then.”

Yay! I leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I just wanna wake up on Christmas morning with snow all around and a Daddy holding me tight.”

Was that too much to ask?

For the longest time, maybe two hours or four seconds, I didn’t hear a sound aside from the ringing in my ears and Mr. Abrams’s breaths. He still smelled so damn good. And felt good. Shame he wasn’t wearing his costume anymore. He’d changed back into his suit.

Then he swallowed and carefully put a hand on my back. “You’re cold. Please get dressed right this instant.”

I shivered at his warm touch yet didn’t feel cold at all. “It doesn’t feel cold.”

“Because you’ve had too much to drink,” he responded quietly. “Way too much.”

His low voice had a strange effect on me. Something that I didn’t even know had been buzzing erratically within me slowed down and enveloped me in peace and comfort.

It made me yawn.

“Maybe it’s time to wrap this party up,” I conceded. “No more candy cane Jell-O shots for me.”

“That’s a good idea,” he agreed. “In any and all scenarios. Candy cane Jell-O sounds terrible.”

I grinned a little and side-eyed him. “After four or five, they taste nice.”

“Four or five.” He shook his head and reached for my pants again. “Time to go, Parker. Tomorrow, when you’re sober, you can reflect on the possibility that you might have a problem with knowing when to stop drinking.”

“I have that problem with lots of things,” I chuckled and stood up. Whoa, had to steady myself on the table. “When I have fun, I just wanna keep having fun.”

“Hm.” He helped me step into my pants, ’cause that was trickier than most people believed. “Boundaries are good for you.”

“Boundaries are boring!”

“There’s no need to shout.”

“That wasn’t shouting. This is shouting. Bound—!”

He slapped a hand over my mouth with enough force to make me look up at him, eyes wide, and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing at first. Mingling with the hot Daddy sternness was plenty of amusement, and it turned his blue eyes into pools of liquid sex.

“Behave, boy.” With another look of warning, he reached for my shirt.

I was in trouble.