Chapter 2

2

T he office buzzed with the familiar hum of pre-holiday chaos. Phones rang incessantly, muffled conversations floated in the air, and the scent of evergreen wafted from the decorations Noel insisted on hanging himself. Kristen Todd sat at her desk, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she finalized the schedule for the week. She loved the crisp efficiency of her work. It grounded her, giving her a sense of control amidst the whirlwind of Kringle Intimates’ busiest season.

“Kristen, did you finalize the client list for the party?” Noel’s voice boomed from his office.

“Yes, Mr. Kringle. I emailed it to you this morning,” Kristen replied, not pausing her typing. Noel was always appreciative of her work, which kept her going despite feeling invisible to others in the company.

Kristen’s desk, though organized, was a testament to her meticulous nature. Each file had its place. Each note was color-coded. The decorations around her workspace were minimal.

As she double-checked the day’s schedule, the door opened, and Justin, one of the Santa impersonators, swaggered in. His red suit was immaculate, his fake beard slightly askew, and he carried the scent of pine and peppermint. Justin was known for his charm, always flirting with the office staff, making them giggle and blush. But not Kristen. He never even glanced her way.

“Hey there, do you have my next assignment ready?” Justin’s voice was smooth, almost too polished. He leaned against the corner of her desk, but his gaze was on the woman across the hall.

Kristen felt a familiar pang of insecurity. She knew she wasn’t the kind of woman who turned heads. Justin certainly never bothered to turn to look at her. He rarely even used her name. Not like the other women in the office who worked as sexy elves with their dyed blond hair and surgically enhanced boobs.

Kristen's brown hair was always tied back in a no-nonsense bun or ponytail. Her clothes were functional rather than fashionable, and she never wore makeup. She kept her eyes on her screen, not wanting to meet Justin’s gaze. Not that he was looking at her.

“Yes, I do. Here you go.” She handed him a clipboard without looking up.

Justin’s fingers brushed hers as he took it. She pulled back quickly, feeling a rush of heat to her cheeks. She hoped he didn’t notice.

“Thanks,” he said, but his tone was perfunctory, his attention already shifting elsewhere. He hadn't even glanced down at her.

“Is there anything else you need?” Kristen asked, her voice quieter than intended.

Justin looked down at her, a flicker of something—pity, perhaps—crossing his features. “No, that’s all. Thanks…" He glanced at the nameplate on her desk. "…Kristen." He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and then he was gone, leaving Kristen with a hollow feeling.

She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the encounter. It was always the same. She was the reliable one, the efficient one, but never the attractive one. Never the one anyone noticed.

Kristen's day had been a whirlwind of tasks, starting with taking Noel's paperwork to HR, thrilled as he was about his new relationship with Mindy. But her excitement didn't ease her workload. She still had to order new elf costumes for Mindy, now that she was officially part of the team. Then there was the fabric request for Cin, who claimed she didn't need anything, but somehow Kristen knew better. Between that and juggling the Santa impersonator schedules to accommodate a slew of last-minute holiday parties, Kristen's day felt like a blur of checklists and deadlines. Looming ahead was the holiday party, another event she had to help coordinate. She felt the tugs of overwhelm creeping in at the edge of her nerves.

The noise of the office closed in around her, the sounds of ringing phones and distant conversations becoming a static in her ears. She reached into her purse, fingers trembling, and fumbled for her anxiety meds. Her heart sank when she found the bottle empty, its weight a cruel reminder of her oversight. She had been so busy taking care of everyone else at work that she had forgotten to refill her prescription.

Panic clawed at her throat. She knew she needed a moment alone. With a shaky breath, she rose from her desk, avoiding eye contact with anyone, and hurried to the bathroom.

Kristen pushed open the bathroom door and stumbled to the sink. She gripped the cold porcelain edge, her knuckles white, and leaned over, gasping for air. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, harsh and unrelenting. She turned on the faucet, splashing cool water onto her flushed face, hoping it would help calm her racing heart.

The panic didn't subside. Her chest felt tight. Her breaths came in shallow gasps. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the sensation of the water against her skin, but it was no use.

The door creaked open behind her, and Kristen's heart skipped a beat. She didn't want anyone to see her like this, vulnerable and unraveling. She opened her eyes, staring at her reflection, her wet face a stark contrast to the composed facade she usually wore.

"Kristen?" Cin's voice was soft, filled with concern.

Kristen tried to speak, to assure her that she was fine, but the words stuck in her throat.

"Hey, it's okay. Breathe with me, all right?" Cin took Kristen's hand, her touch warm and grounding. "Let's do this together. Take a deep breath in, hold it for a few seconds, and then slowly breathe out."

Kristen nodded, her eyes filling with tears. She followed Cin's lead, mirroring her slow, deliberate breaths. Cin placed her hand on Kristen's chest, just below her collarbone, without touching.

"Can I touch you here? I'm going to apply gentle pressure."

Cin's voice was so soothing, so soft, that Kristen found herself nodding, wanting more of her calming presence around her.

Cin moved closer, placing her hand over Kristen's heart. "This is called a vagal maneuver. It can help slow your heart rate. Just focus on my voice."

Kristen’s world narrowed to that touch, to the steady cadence of Cin’s voice. The pressure of Cin’s hand over her heart anchored her to the present, pulling her away from the frantic whirl of her thoughts. She closed her eyes, feeling the thudding in her chest gradually begin to ease, the rapid fire of anxiety loosening its grip.

Cin’s voice continued, low and rhythmic, like waves lapping at the shore, coaxing her heart into a slower, steadier rhythm. Kristen took a deep breath, deeper than she had in what felt like hours, and slowly exhaled. The knot in her chest unraveled a little more with each passing second.

The room around her felt softer, the lights less harsh, the tightness in her body ebbing away under Cin’s touch. Kristen’s mind quieted, the overwhelming noise of her anxiety replaced by the steady beat of her heart, matching the rhythm Cin set for her. She felt safe, soothed by more than just the maneuver.

"How did you know to do that?" Kristen asked.

Cin shrugged. "I'm a Millennial. Plenty of friends with anxiety."

"I'm so sorry you had to see me like this," Kristen whispered, her voice raw with emotion.

Cin shook her head, her eyes filled with understanding. "It's okay to be vulnerable, Kristen. We all have moments like this."

"Not your brother."

"Noel is Gen X. Those kids were just built different."

Kristen managed a weak smile, appreciating the warmth and sincerity in Cin's words. She glanced down at her shirt, now soaked and clinging to her skin, a reminder of her breakdown.

"Great, now my shirt is ruined. I don't have time to go home and change before the party."

"Come with me. I have something perfect for you to wear."