SNEAK PEEK

HARPER

“You freaking replaced me before you even let me go?” I narrowed my eyes at Clark, my boss and, as of three seconds ago, my ex-boyfriend.

“Well, yeah. We couldn’t have a gap in coverage.” He folded his arms across his chest, leaning back casually against the TV news desk.

“Of course not,” I said, shaking my head. I used to appreciate his laidback style and easygoing charisma. Now I saw it as plain old arrogance, with a healthy dose of narcissism.

“I guess I’ll go pack up my office.”

“No, don’t. I already had Meredith clear it out for you. Your stuff is in the mail.”

My face burned with the realization that everyone knew about my unemployment but me.

“You’re a real asshole, Clark.”

He flinched slightly at my words, but recovered quickly. “Sorry, babe. But we’ve got to stay fresh at Channel 5. You were getting soft, irrelevant.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, my eyes flicking to his graying sideburns, the slight gut he’d developed since we started dating.

“It’s been fun, but I have to listen to the viewers. And they clearly said they needed a change, a fresh start. It’s all part of the New Year, New You approach we’re taking at the station.” He pointed to the neon sign leaning against the wall, ready to be hoisted into the air come January 1 st .

“Out with the old, in with the new,” I said, my voice heavy with sarcasm.

“See, you’re getting it now. No hard feelings.” He leaned forward to peck my cheek and I bristled, moving away.

“Go fuck yourself, Clark. Seriously.” I pivoted on the stiletto heel he so adored and hustled out of there before he could see the tears spilling onto my cheeks.

I laid on my couch, cocooned against the world in my rattiest sweatshirt, a half-drunk bottle of wine on the coffee table. A Christmas Story looped through the opening scene for the fifth time in a row.

Knock, knock, knock. Three hard, sharp raps at my door. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I didn’t move, certain whomever it was would take the hint.

Knock, knock, knock. Harder and louder this time. Damn, couldn’t a girl take a minute to wallow in her misery without being bothered?

Wrapping the blanket around me, I shuffled to the door and peered through the peephole. The intruder appeared to be a US postal worker, so I cracked the door an inch.

“Evening. Are you…” He looked down at the envelope. “Harper Fitzpatrick?”

“I am.”

“I have certified mail for you. You have to sign for it.” He thrust a clipboard in my direction, so I opened the door fully.

“Do you know what it is? What if I don’t want it?” I asked, gnawing my bottom lip.

He shrugged. “No idea. And it doesn’t work like that. You either accept the mail or you don’t.”

“So no takebacks?”

The dude shook his head. “Nope, ‘fraid not.”

“Fine, I’ll accept.” I scrawled my signature on the paper, taking the large manila envelope.

“Happy holidays,” he said, waving good-bye over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” I said, muttering ‘bah humbug’ under my breath. I wonder if this is my severance package. I eyed the brown package, half-expecting it to burst into flames in my hand.

Curiosity got the better of me. I rummaged through my junk drawer, finding the scissors and slicing through the thick paper.

Dear Ms. Fitzpatrick,

We hope this letter finds you well. We at Tousy I’d definitely never been there before.

So I did what any sane person would do facing this type of situation—I called my mom.

“Mom?” Upbeat Christmas music played in the background, clinking glasses and high-pitched laughter blending in with the chorus.

“Oh hi, sweetie! Merry Christmas Eve! How are you?” she trilled.

“Fine. Well, not great, to be honest. I broke up with Clark and lost my job. But that’s not why I’m calling.” I rolled through those talking points at a hundred miles per hour, hoping she wouldn’t ask about them. No such luck.

“What? Why? I adored Clark; he’s such a good-looking guy! And I thought you loved your job at Channel 5.”

“Clark’s an asshole, Mom, and the reason I lost my job, but we’ll talk about that later. It’s not why I’m calling. Who’s Aunt Gertrude?”

There was a long pause and a swallow. I could practically see my mother taking a pensive sip of her wine, attempting to furrow her unlined brow. Benefit of marrying a plastic surgeon the second-time around.

“Gertrude? I think she was your father’s third aunt by marriage. Why?”

“Apparently I’m the sole heir to her estate in Starlight Bay. Have you ever been there?”

“No. You know your father wasn’t close to his family. If I’m remembering correctly, Gertrude was the one with a lot of cats. Never married, no kids. A retired schoolteacher. Never met her, though.”

“Thanks for the info. How’s West Palm?” I asked, changing the subject to one of her faves, her amazing life in Florida with hubby number two.

“Gorgeous, sunny all the time. Now that you don’t have to go to work you can come down and visit! I’ll buy you a ticket.”

“Thanks. Maybe after I take care of the estate stuff in Starlight Bay. I’ll let you go; I know you have a party to attend to.”

“If you change your mind, we’d love to have you, darling. Christmas in Florida!”

“Thanks, Mom. Maybe next year. Love you, bye.”

“Bye, honey.” She air kissed me and clicked off, leaving me alone and wondering about the mysterious Aunt Gertrude of Starlight Bay and all of her cats.