Merry Little Hate Notes

Chapter Fourteen

brANDON

I WALKED BACK TO MY desk after my call with a manufacturer out of Canada. I was happy to see Holly wasn’t hiding in the bathroom like I feared she might after our extended business trip. The odd way she kept looking at me yesterday had me worried I’d forever missed my chance with her. Worse were the polite pleasantries that were the kiss of death for any relationship. I’d rather she rage at me than talk about the weather and the weird rock formations through the mountain passes. She’d treated me like she didn’t know me at all.

Maybe she didn’t. I had always been cautious around her, attempting to resist my feelings for her. Now I was reaping the consequences of that decision. Damn Christian. I loved the guy, but my loyalty to him had sabotaged what I knew could be the best relationship of my life. After waking up next to Holly on the couch yesterday morning, the full impact of what I’d missed hit me.

Perhaps it was time to throw in the towel and call it a day. The thought sickened me, though. Of course, my wingman was against it. Mom had begged me this morning not to give up, so I decided I’d give the hate notes one more chance, even though I wasn’t the slightest bit hopeful Holly would engage. In fact, I was certain she wouldn’t. So, I would do my best to close as many deals as possible this month before heading back to North Carolina. That way Holly could live out her Monica Geller dreams. I supposed that meant her marrying the yahoo across the hall from her. I already hated him.

I approached my desk carefully, not wanting to scare her off. “Good morning,” I said stiffly, not sure how to behave around her now.

“Good morning.” The corners of her lips twitched.

Interesting. I did a quick glance to see if the note I’d written earlier was gone. Disheartened, my eyes drifted immediately to the wastebasket under her desk. To my surprise, nothing bright blue appeared to be in there. Not that it meant anything—Holly could have ripped it to shreds and flushed it. She did spend a lot of time in the bathroom.

But I took my chances and asked a smooth question like, “How are you?” I had zero game with this woman.

She stopped typing and turned toward me with a mischievous glint in her gorgeous eyes.

I had to wonder what she was up to. Whatever it was, it probably didn’t bode well for me.

“I’m good. How are you? How did your call go with Maximus?”

Shocked by the fact she’d used three sentences in a row to speak to me, it took me a moment to respond. I figured she’d probably set up some elaborate prank to get back at me for the years of torture Christian and I had made her endure. I couldn’t think of any other reason she’d be so pleasant toward me. “Uh ... good,” I stumbled over my words like an idiot. “I have a call with their CEO tomorrow. It looks promising.”

“That’s excellent news. Would you like me to update their pitch deck?”

“That would be great, thank you.” I was getting more suspicious by the second. I scanned my desk and chair to see if she’d rigged them to explode. Nothing appeared to be tampered with. Except ... I noticed my Office bobbleheads were no longer lined up the way I’d left them. I stepped closer to see what she’d done to them. It was then I got the shock of my life. A red sticky note peeked out from underneath Michael and Jim. Did I dare hope Holly had reciprocated?

Not wanting to seem too eager, I casually reached for the note while asking, “Were you able to schedule a demo with Dynamic? ”

“Uh-huh.” She eyed my hand clutching the note carefully. “Their COO can meet with you on Friday at two.”

“Very good.” I pulled the note closer to me.

Holly smirked while her eyes danced.

This couldn’t be good. I braced myself for her to tell me off or to get lost. Or perhaps she had figured out how to make the paper spontaneously combust. Whatever it was, I had to face the music. I held up the note and read , Your wit is as thick as fruitcake batter.

I had to keep from pulling her to me and kissing her breathless. My Holly was back. She had no idea the hope she’d handed me. I’d never been so happy to have a woman tell me my wit was as thick as fruitcake batter. It felt like I’d won a monumental victory. But the look on Holly’s face said to think of it as more like a participation trophy.

In keeping with the unwritten rules of the game, I didn’t mention the note nor what she’d written. Instead, I slid it into my pocket, wondering what this meant for us. Judging by how she went back to typing and ignoring me, I would say I still had an uphill battle in front of me and should be prepared to squirm.

And that’s exactly what I did as she ignored me for the rest of the morning, albeit with a cunning smile on her face. It was disconcerting, to say the least, but I wasn’t sure what to do about it. I didn’t dare ask her for fear of making the wrong move, which I was prone to do with her. Part of me worried that the note she’d written was a way to lull me into a false sense of security before she unleased her wrath—not that it would be undeserved.

So, I bided my time as the clock ticked slowly, knowing we had to decorate cookies together for the team-building challenge. With any luck, she would speak to me then and not obliterate me. I had a feeling it was irking Holly that we kept losing these challenges, even though they were holiday themed. This was the woman, after all, who’d prosecuted her stuffed animals with a vengeance, and if ever the jury acquitted them, worked tirelessly until she’d researched every avenue to try them for other crimes. Holly didn’t like to lose, especially when she believed truth was on her side and she’d tried so hard to win. So perhaps, for the sake of winning, she would be merciful and grace me not only with her stellar cookie-decorating skills but also the chance to prove she could trust me. A guy could dream.

When noon rolled around, the call went out to meet in the kitchen and dining area for the cookie-decorating challenge. I braved the opportunity to speak to Holly, going with something smooth like this winner: “Are you ready to do this thing?” What was I, ten again?

Holly pressed her lips together, holding back her laughter.

What had happened to me? I was the guy in college who proudly claimed no woman had ever turned me down for a date.

Holly couldn’t hold back her laugh and finally gave in, bursting into a fit of giggles.

I scrubbed a hand over my face, feeling like I should just throw up a white flag and beg for mercy.

Once Holly stopped laughing at me, she bit her lip and stared pensively at our coworkers, heading for the challenge.

“We don’t have to go,” I offered, knowing how she felt about the holidays.

She offered me a thoughtful glance. “Your dad is counting on us,” she reminded me.

I wanted to tell her the truth—that it was all my mom’s idea and my dad was just playing along. But I was sure Holly wouldn’t be happy to know my parents were doing their best to set us up. Instead, I played into my wingman’s plan. “We are his A team.”

“I guess that means we should probably decorate some cookies.” She sounded a little excited about it.

“It’s probably for the best.” I tried to play it cool.

“If we must.” She inhaled deeply and pushed away from her desk.

Together, we headed over. It took all I had in me not to hold her hand.

“You need to follow my lead,” Holly said out of the side of her mouth. “I’ve seen how you decorate cookies, and it’s not pretty. No going rogue on me.”

I smiled, loving seeing this side of Holly again. “I’m at your command.” Truer words had never been spoken.

“Very good.” She seemed to take pleasure at the thought of bossing me around. “I snuck a peek earlier and they have buttercream frosting and royal icing. We are going the royal icing route. It’s trickier to use, but it lends to a beautiful presentation.” In a surprise move, she pulled out a small baggy full of a shimmering substance from her pocket, doing her best to keep anyone but me from seeing it, like she was showing me her stash of drugs. “I brought some of my own sugar crystals to give us an edge.”

I paused, shocked by this turn of events and amazed that my mom had been right about Holly showing up in grand fashion, as she put it. I knew once Mom found out about Holly’s contraband crystals, she would never let me live down my original doubts. Holly Hollydays was making an appearance, and it had me wanting to wrap her up for Christmas.

“I know,” Holly whispered. “The holidays haven’t exactly been my thing for a long time, but I’m tired of losing. And ... maybe ... I’m tired of not being me,” she cautiously admitted.

“If you want help being you, I’m here to assist,” I couldn’t help but say. Yes, I was desperate. And—judging by Holly’s reaction—lame.

Holly laughed and rolled her eyes before walking off.

Damn . I palmed my forehead. The woman had me on edge.

With my tail between my legs, I joined Holly, who had grabbed a bistro table on the outer edge of the dining area. Each table had a red or green plastic tablecloth covering it. An assortment of cookie-decorating tools and paper plates filled each one.

Holly smirked at me when I landed next to her and breathed in her vanilla scent. I had a feeling she knew she was making me squirm, and she enjoyed that power. Not sure what had changed in her since yesterday, but it was like she’d flipped a switch and the lights inside her were flickering, on the verge of lighting her up.

She leaned in closer to me, and I gripped the table to push down my desire to pull her to me and tell her exactly how I felt about her before ravishing her lips. Instead, she instructed, “Here’s your mission if you choose to accept it: I have a feeling they’re going to have us make a run for the cookies and decorations. You go for the cookies. Grab as many snowflakes and trees as you can. I’ll retrieve the icing bags with my preferred piping tips. Got it?”

I saluted her. “Yes, ma’am. ”

She nudged me with her hip. “Okay, smart aleck.”

“Hey, I’m being sincere.”

“Uh-huh. Just get the cookies.”

“I got it,” I assured her. I was going to do everything in my power to prove to Holly I was the man for the job.

“Welcome, everyone, to holiday challenge number four,” Camille shouted above the noise of the crowd, silencing everyone. “Each team will have half an hour to decorate as many cookies as they can. At the end of the half hour, you will present two cookies to be judged, one from each partner. No cheating.” Camille eyed Jason and his BDR, Trish. “With that said, we have an assortment of cookies, icing, and decorations along the counter here.” Camille pointed behind her. “On the count of three, you and your partner can grab your materials and begin decorating. Let’s see what you’ve got.” Camille grinned.

Each person stood and positioned themselves as if they were on the starting line, ready to run a relay race.

I glanced at Holly. Her eyes were on the prize while she was rolling up the sleeves of her cardigan. I could see her calculating the odds in her gorgeous head. This was my moment to prove to her she could trust me. If I had to, I was going to barrel my way through my coworkers and get Holly her cookies.

“All right,” Camille called out. “One! Two! Three!”

I lunged forward, barely waiting for her to say three before sprinting toward the counter and the cookies, while Holly dashed for the icing. With some pleasure, I stiff-armed Jason like a defensive lineman, preventing him from grabbing the snowflake cookies Holly had her heart set on. I wasn’t the only person acting aggressively. You would have thought we were at a cash grab or in elementary school, given the chaos that ensued.

With the cookies secured, I rushed back to our table. Holly was already there, smiling smugly with her assortment of pastel-colored icing.

I gently set the cookies on the table, my chest puffing out, proud of myself.

“Don’t get too cocky,” Holly took me down a notch. “You still have to decorate them. ”

Admittedly, I knew I was the weak link here. Decorating cookies wasn’t in my wheelhouse. Now, eating cookies or making fun of Holly and her friends for their cookie parties while we were growing up—that I could do. “I am your apprentice. Be gentle with me,” I teased.

“You’re ridiculous.” She grinned. “Just follow my lead. First, we need to outline the cookie with the icing. Let’s start with a tree. They’re easier.”

We each put a sugar cookie tree on our plate. Holly chose pink icing and I picked light green. I watched as she outlined the cookie precisely and perfectly. I tried to mimic her, but I was all over the place and my line was thick in some places and nonexistent in others.

Holly scrunched her face, trying not to fix it for me. “Hmm. Try another cookie and take it slow.”

“Okay.” I took a bite of the “practice cookie” before putting a new one on my plate. “These are kind of disgusting,” I complained. “Nowhere near as good as the ones you made growing up.”

Holly looked around, panicking. “Shh.”

“What?” I wondered why she’d freaked out.

“No one here knows that we grew up together,” she whispered. “I want to keep it that way.”

“Why?”

“Because,” she sighed. “No one here knows my past. I don’t want people to feel sorry for me for no longer living a charmed life.”

“Are you admitting being my neighbor constituted a charmed life?” I said lightheartedly, knowing that wasn’t what she meant. But I never wanted her to think that I felt sorry for her. Yes, I was sorry for what had happened in her life, but I admired her too much to ever dishonor her by pitying her.

“You are still so full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Mistakes I wish I could fix.”

“Mistakes like your cookie,” she squeaked out, like she couldn’t catch her breath.

“I wish my cookie were the only thing that needed fixing. Although, I’m not sure I can fix this either.” I nodded toward the untouched cookie, wishing my life could get a clean slate, especially when it came to Holly.

“My dad says that often the only way to fix anything is to mistake your way to the solution.”

“That sounds like something your dad would say.” I smiled. “So, how do I mistake my way through this?” I was talking about more than the cookie.

Holly pursed her pretty lips together and thought. “Maybe we need to think outside the box here.”

Was she trying to tell me to keep trying to change her mind about me? That it was okay if I kept making mistakes?

Holly grabbed a new plate. “What do you think about tie-dyed Christmas trees?”

“Groovy,” I laughed, making her giggle.

“Here’s what we’re going to do: Take the white frosting and make a good-sized circle with it on your plate, enough to cover the cookie. Then zigzag in some of the other colors.”

I did as she directed, making a mess of it.

“Don’t worry if it doesn’t look good right now. It will. Just watch. Take a toothpick and make squiggle lines through it.”

I tilted my head, not sure how this was going to work.

“Trust me.”

I gazed at her, unable to help myself from getting lost in her ice-blue eyes. “I trust you.”

She waved her hand around nervously. “Hurry. I want to win this.”

“Me too.” I wasn’t talking about the cookies. I followed her directions and then dipped my cookie into the mess. When I lifted the cookie, I expected to see a disaster, but to my surprise, I found a masterpiece, if I do say so myself.

Holly beamed at the cookie with its array of color. “It’s perfect.”

“Only you could turn such a mess into something so beautiful.”

Her cheeks blushed to match her rose-red lips. “Maybe I can do the same thing in my life—turn the mess into something beautiful.”

As far as I could tell, she’d already done so.

Holly threw a hand over her mouth. “I say too much around you,” she mumbled through her fingers .

Instinctively, I removed the hand from her mouth, resisting the urge to keep her delicate hand in mine. “Don’t stop talking. Please.”

“Brandon,” she breathed out.

“Yes,” I said anxiously, waiting for her to open the door to me.

“I still hate you.” She smiled.

I shook my head. I should have known she wouldn’t make this easy on me. “Hate is how we started, Holly-Pops. I can work with hate.”