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Merry Little Hate Notes Chapter Four 17%
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Chapter Four

brANDON

MY PHONE BUZZED ON MY way into the office Monday morning. I juggled the drink carrier holding two coffees and the laptop case swung over my shoulder while reaching into my coat pocket to retrieve it. The screen read Mom . Admittedly, I wasn’t sure I should answer it—Mom was determined to be my wingman. Over the holiday weekend she’d tried to come up with witty hate notes I could write Holly, while forcing me to help her decorate an insane number of Christmas trees.

Apparently, she felt like my old notes lacked a certain je ne sais quoi. It was like I had let down our family or something. If I’d had any idea my mother would be judging my hate notes, I’d have tried a little harder. Who knew Mom would want me to excel at being cleverly hateful? Or how badly she wanted me to be with Holly? Not that I didn’t want a chance with her, but I knew that was incredibly unlikely. I was just aiming for the opportunity to give her an apology she actually believed.

Knowing I’d receive a continuous barrage of phone calls if I ignored Mom, I stopped in front of the cascading floor-to-ceiling water fountain near the elevators and answered.

“Hello.”

“Oh, Bran, I was hoping to catch you before you made it into work.”

“I just walked in. Is everything all right?”

“Yes. I just had this idea.”

I leaned against the wall to brace myself. Mom’s ideas over the last few days had been interesting, to say the least.

“It’s about Holly,” she added, like I hadn’t already guessed.

I looked around to make sure I didn’t have an audience. When I felt it was safe, I responded, “Okay.”

“Listen, I know you’re not sold on the notes, but I really think you need to cultivate this connection. With that said, I was thinking it would be adorable if you gave Holly some Christmas-themed sticky notes like she used to enjoy this time of year. Maybe it would spark something and help her feel some holiday spirit. You could even tell her to have some merry little sticky notes. It’s a take on the song ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.’ Cute, right?”

I cleared my throat. “Mom, those words are never coming out of my mouth.” Might as well take my man card now.

“Well, you could think of something else to say.” She sounded disgruntled. “But don’t you think it’s a cute idea?”

Not at all, but I didn’t articulate that. “I was thinking of just easing into things. I stopped and bought her a peppermint mocha this morning on my way in.”

Mom laughed hysterically. “Oh, honey, she’s not going to drink that.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she’s going to find it suspicious after all these years.”

“Perhaps, but at least she’ll know I remembered how much she loves coffee and peppermint. It’s a start.”

“If you say so. But I’m going to leave those sticky notes in your dad’s office on my way to the board meeting at the children’s museum. I’ll drop them off later this morning. You know, just in case your plan doesn’t work,” she mocked me. “Oh, and I emailed you this hilarious list of holiday-themed zingers you can use. Because we both know you could use some help.”

I shifted uncomfortably, wondering what had happened to my mother, who was normally all class and grace. Not the one who was begging to be my wingman and emailing me mean things to say to a woman. “Thank you, Mom. I really appreciate you trying to help. But I’ve got it handled.”

“All right, honey. When you crash and burn, I’ll be waiting in the wings to save you. Get it? Because I’m your wingman.” She laughed.

“Yeah, I got it.” Unfortunately.

“I’m sure I’ll be hearing from you soon,” she sang. “Have a good day and good luck. Bye, honey.”

“Bye.” I stared at the phone after hanging up, unnerved by the conversation and admittedly worried about how things would go with Holly today—and even more worried my mom was going to do something to embarrass me.

I headed toward the stairs and made the climb to the third floor, nervous energy coursing through me. It had been a long time since I’d spent any real time with Holly. I just hoped she wouldn’t hang out in the bathroom all day. And that I wouldn’t have to resort to saying things like, Have yourself some merry little sticky notes .

It felt as if every head turned my way when I walked onto the floor. No doubt I was about to ruffle some feathers. Holly was the best BDR in the company, and every enterprise account executive had been vying for her. Especially Jason Schafer. The guy was a tool and smelled like the nineties, and it was obvious by the way he looked at Holly he was hoping to mix business with pleasure. Granted, I’d like that too, but I would like to think my intentions were pure. Or at least mostly.

Camille Tua, the sales director, made her way to me, all smiles. I wasn’t entirely sure if the smile was real. Being the owner’s son had its drawbacks. While I worked hard and had earned every promotion and accolade, I never knew if people genuinely liked and valued me for me. Or was it just my last name?

“Brandon, it’s good to have you join us here.” Camille held out her hand. “I was just about ready to tell the team the good news.”

I shook her hand, but admittedly my eyes drifted toward Holly sitting in her usual spot near the Bat Cave conference room. People could sit anywhere they chose in open office spaces, but she seemed to always land there. My guess was she wanted the mountain view. I remembered that after the St. Jameses moved here from Virginia, Holly went on and on about how big and beautiful the mountains were. They’d always fascinated her. She even did a PowerPoint presentation when she was eleven about how mountains were formed and made Christian and me sit through it like we were screening a docuseries. I had no idea until viewing Holly’s presentation that Colorado had one active volcano.

Holly directed her gaze to her laptop screen with determination, pretending she was oblivious to everyone around her who was focusing on me. I had a feeling it was going to be an interesting day. At least she hadn’t darted toward the bathroom yet.

“Thanks, Camille. It’s good to be here.” I reciprocated the warm welcome before letting go of her hand.

Camille turned and, hardly raising her voice, commanded, “Listen up.”

Every account executive and business development rep, except Holly, gave Camille their rapt attention.

“I know you all know Brandon, but I would like you to welcome him to our team. He will be temporarily working out of our office through the end of the year. He’s going to be helping us with some of Marisol’s accounts. Which means Holly will assist him.”

Every head whipped in Holly’s direction, except for Jason’s. His face exploded in red as he glared at me. I was sure he’d expected to take over Marisol’s accounts and get Holly for his BDR. Too much was riding on those accounts, though, and while Jason was a top performer, he also rubbed some people the wrong way with his pushy tactics.

I didn’t back down from Jason’s glare. Instead, I offered him a smile. That did the trick. He thought better of his reaction and lowered himself into a nearby chair to stew. Maybe being the boss’s son did have some perks.

Meanwhile, Holly realized everyone was staring at her and looked up, biting her pouty rose-red lip. I tried not to fixate on how velvety those lips were to touch. But I couldn’t stop noticing how beautiful she was. Her messy bun and off-one-shoulder sweater hugging her willowy figure did me in, as did the way her creamy cheeks blushed from the attention. Yet she still ignored me .

Not that I expected anything less. If truth be told, it surprised me she was here at all. Maybe she’d just come to turn in her resignation—I think my dad half expected her to. And while he realized he would lose a valuable employee, he knew Holly was only spinning her wheels here. She had so much more potential. However, according to him, she’d rejected any talk of being promoted. That was not the girl I knew. While Holly was on the quieter side, she was ambitious and not afraid to take on the world. What had happened to her? Was it my fault?

Holly waved while plastering on a fake smile for our coworkers.

“Okay, everyone, back to work,” Camille barked. “Don’t forget about our team sales meeting at one today.”

For the record, no one went back to work. They all gawked at me, some offering words of welcome, as I walked toward Holly, who was bracing herself by gripping her standing desk. I felt terrible for making her uncomfortable. But this wasn’t a cakewalk for me either. I knew I’d royally screwed up and probably ruined her life. More than anything, I wanted to make amends if possible. It was one of the reasons I was willing to give up half my commissions.

Thankfully, no one was sitting near Holly. Most people liked to work closer to the common area with a gourmet kitchen and free snacks, including a soda fountain and ice cream machine.

It didn’t surprise me Holly chose a quieter, out-of-the-way spot. That was her MO. Christian and I used to surmise she was silently plotting to take over the world someday. The world would be a better place for it.

“Good morning,” I coughed out like a pubescent boy speaking to his crush for the first time.

“Good morning,” she mumbled, refusing to look at me while she typed. But at least she’d talked to me. This was progress.

I set the drink carrier and my laptop case on the free desk next to hers before taking off my coat and draping it across a chair. I was getting ready to break the ice and prove to my mom I didn’t need a wingman. Women loved when you remembered little things about them.

Feeling overly confident, I grabbed the coffee and held it out to her. “This is for you. Peppermint mocha. Your favorite.” At least, I hoped it still was.

She side-eyed the cup suspiciously and, without a word, went back to typing.

Not one to give up, I set the cup near her. “I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She looked around before turning her gorgeous head toward me. Her stunning ice-blue eyes narrowed. “That’s not what I’m worried about. Although, I wouldn’t put tampering past you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I know you’re up to something. So let’s keep our conversations work related only. And even then, use Slack or email when possible.”

Well, that didn’t go as planned. I figured she would have misgivings, but what did she think I was up to? Unwilling to believe I needed Mom’s wingman services, I decided to go the humor route and remind her of our shared past. Women loved a funny, sentimental guy. Right?

I leaned in closer, breathing in her soft vanilla scent, reminding me of the best times of my life. Times with her. Which is why I foolishly said these next words: “Are you still angry with me because I know you used to play court with your stuffed animals and Scotty the Squirrel got off because I refused to testify?”

I still had the note she’d left me telling me I was in contempt of court. It went something like, His Honor, Judge Barry Bear, holds you in contempt of court for failing to appear. You are hereby sentenced to never speak to me again. That sentence lasted all of about a day until she wanted Christian and me to watch Kim Possible with her, which of course we would never admit to watching. Or liking.

Holly craned her neck and hit me with the most ferocious, you-are-the-dumbest-man-alive look. I didn’t know a person’s face could pinch so tightly. Holy hell.

I took a step back, fearing for my life and thinking maybe I was the dumbest man alive.

Holly said nothing, but her expression said it all— Talk to me again and die .

I was willing to take the risk because being near Holly was the most alive I’d felt in years. I wondered when my mom was going to be dropping off those sticky notes. It looked like I was going to need a wingman after all.

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