6. Henry

Chapter six

Henry

December 15th, 2020

"So," Ms. Sanchez says, her hip propped against my desk as usual, clicking her ever present pen. "Are you and the family celebrating Christmas together this year, or are you going to play it safe?"

Governor Cuomo cleared law firms to resume in-person operations in June, and the entire office has been working in shifts for the last six months to avoid triggering a super spreader event. Everyone has to wear masks, there's a disinfecting station on every floor, and luckily, we've only had eight mild cases since coming back. Things have been different , but at this point, they're manageable.

No one expected a Hallmark Christmas after a year of hell, but that all changed once the vaccine went public. Now, there's hope in the air, mixed with a fair amount of nerves. Some of the partners already managed to get the shot, but most people still have to rely on masks and rubbing alcohol.

"We're going to play it safe. Mom and Dad aren't on the priority list for the vaccine, and Damon's paranoid he won't be able to play ball if he gets sick."

Ms. Sanchez grins before bending down to retrieve something from behind the couch in my office. She's got on a knee-length wool skirt in dark gray, a plain white dress shirt, and a cardigan covered in reindeer and snowmen. The monstrosity was lit up with real Christmas lights when she first came in, but I had her turn them off so they wouldn't be a distraction.

Looking at her bent over, I'm distracted for an entirely different reason now. My eyes catch on the delicate line of her ankles, the smooth expanse of her calves, and up to her thick thighs before they disappear under the festive ensemble. Lately, I've been noticing Ms. Sanchez for reasons beyond the professional, and it's a problem. I clear my throat, along with the surprisingly lustful thoughts that threaten to overwhelm me.

Ms. Sanchez finally ends my torture, coming from behind the couch with a gift basket almost half her size. She laughs at my dumbfounded expression.

"Relax. It's not really for you. Most productions are still shut down, so Rory's been making care packages for anyone who can't celebrate together. I grabbed one for you just in case. You can drop it by your parents' or something." She lugs the basket to my desk and sets it down with a heavy thump.

"Wow," I say, because there are no words. Inside the package, there are two mugs full of instant hot cocoa and cider packets, candy canes in assorted colors, brightly wrapped chocolates in the shape of Christmas trees and wreaths, a small artificial poinsettia, a tube of ten ornaments, a string of jingle bells, and a headband with reindeer antlers. Everything sits on a bed of holly and ivy garland.

At my silence, Ms. Sanchez's smile wilts at the edges.

"I know she went a little overboard. My family goes all out for Christmas and she just thought, especially this year, people could use a little extra cheer. You don't have to—" I put my hand on hers, stopping her rambling. Her skin is warm and velvet soft.

"It's very thoughtful, Ms. Sanchez. Thank you." She gives me a tentative smile and her hand twitches, reminding me to move mine away.

"You're welcome," she says, her voice breathless.

The air in my office suddenly feels thick with possibility. I lean back to put more distance between us.

"What about you? Are you and your family spending the holiday together?" She shakes her head, her expression sad.

"Rory doesn't want to risk it in case she gets a call that production has restarted, and Gabe said he and his roommates are going to do something since we're not doing the family thing. It'll just be me, 'A Christmas Story', and my own special gift basket from Rory." She leans forward and winks. "Mine has alcohol." I quirk my lips.

"Keeping the good stuff for yourself, I see."

"I did have to carry three of those baskets all the way from the Bronx. I think I deserve the hard stuff." I ignore the naughty connotation of her words.

"I think everyone does."

She laughs and turns to leave.

"Ms. Sanchez?" I call after her. She looks back at me. "Merry Christmas."