As I cross the intersection, I double-check the address for the banquet hall against the small building tucked in an old shopping plaza on the south end of The Strip, before pulling into a nearly empty lot. The holiday party is supposed to start at seven, but I’m early. If I can catch Spencer before he ducks inside, it’ll save me a world of trouble. And one more heartbreak.
Since there are only two other cars here, I relax for the moment, letting Bianca’s upbeat version of “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” temporarily lend a crutch to my mood while I survey this jewel hidden in plain sight. There’s not much by way of neon signs and the glitz of glamorous casinos, but it’s an architectural eye-catcher with charm to spare. Even parked two rows from the building, I see the quiet allure locals, tourists of a certain taste level—or sweet couples with real budding relationships—might be drawn to.
Let your heart be light…
Through the floor-to-ceiling grid of glass and steel, a holiday wonderland is framed in string lights. A tall, proud spruce tree with giant red bows and bulb ornaments grounds the room. Dressy accents and traditional holiday decorations bestow a touch of luxury. There’s holly and garland accents with poinsettias and wreaths for pops of color. Though muffled, I can hear the bass from familiar holiday songs from outside.
I’m lost in the dream of Chase and me dancing the night away, loving each other without limits, and planning a future. But as cars begin pouring into the lot, I have to remind myself it is all just a dream. A fantasy, really, because sometimes protecting the one you love means those limits are there for good reason.
The driver’s door of a red sports car parked directly in front of the banquet hall’s entrance swings open, and Spencer is out and heading inside before I cut the ignition.
“Shit.” I grab my purse and hop out of my car, taking long strides as I jerk the key fob back, arming the car.
The instant I step inside, I’m annoyed with myself for not parking closer. I got too relaxed while I waited, and this is the penalty. Jessica and her husband are already here looking like they’re ready to be crowned king and queen of the small-town Christmas ball. They’re holding hands and standing just off the entrance like unofficial greeters, so I flash them a small smile.
“Hey, Riley,” she says. Her tone is surprisingly genuine while she introduces me to her husband—Troy or Roy, I think. I shake his hand and we exchange pleasantries, but I have to wonder if he’s as much a wolf in sheep’s clothing as his wife.
The way she judged Chase and me, I halfway expected her to have a trophy husband, but everything about him is very middle of the road—he’s medium height, slightly balding, and average-looking. But he’s got kind eyes and a sweet smile, so I have to wonder if she’ll show her true colors in front of him.
“My wife talks about you all the time,” he admits, but there’s nothing sinister or gloating about his tone.
I force a smile and flit a questioning glance to Jessica.
Funny enough, I’m not as much surprised by her having a nice, vanilla husband as I am seeing Jessica in anything other than pink. She’s on theme with a chic and easy red A-line dress with a furry white shrug.
“Nice meeting you. If you’ll excuse me, I need to catch up with Spencer,” I say, testing the waters.
In classic form, Jessica lifts her chin at the mention of his name, baring her delicate throat. There’s a subtle gleam in her eyes, almost a warning, and I’m sure there’s still a wolf underneath her dress.
“Oh, okay. We’ll see you around,” she says quickly. A smirk plays on her lips as her gaze darts behind me. “By the way, where is Chase tonight?”
I survey her, giving a small head shake because I know he’s here, and I don’t have the heart—or the stomach—to look at him.
Chase calls my name, but I’m already beelining for Spencer. Just as I reach our boss, Chase catches up to me and we’re both standing there breathless and awkward.
“Ah, you made it.” Spencer turns, his broad shoulders drawn back, chin high. He’s holding a glass of bright-red punch, a perfect match for his festive velvet suit. “Listen, I had a chance to look over your report. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about our last discussion…” His eyes are filled with excitement and fixed on me, and I feel my resolve waning.
“About that,” I start and stop, swallowing my reservations. “What I said in our meeting, about Chase and me—"
“You’ll make a fine senior marketing manager, Riley.” He smiles and it knocks the wind out of me because I wasn’t expecting it. It’s always weird to hear someone you respect say good things about you. Especially, when you’re not all the way convinced yourself.
My mouth falls open, but I’ve lost my words.
“I’ve been observing your work ethic and sales strategies for some time now. The safety measures you’ve outlined…that’s the kind of innovative thinking I need on my team, in my work family. You’re a hard worker and loyal, and I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised at your initiative when you came to express interest.”
I’m dumbfounded. Freaking flabbergasted. A burst of happiness suffuses my entire being. But then, there’s still that sour taste in my mouth.
Is he saying this to me now because he’s always observing, or did I just come to his attention since I fabricated a relationship out of thin air?
Spencer scrutinizes me for a moment, and I wonder what potential he sees in me—how he can speak with so much conviction when I’m questioning my own integrity.
I open my mouth to speak again, but he pats my shoulder. “Tonight, we’re celebrating our work family and the season of joy.” He leans in closer, “And secretly, your promotion. I haven’t told anyone else yet, so I trust you two will remain tight-lipped until Monday. If at that time you still want to talk about what’s worrying you, come see me first thing.”
He walks away, lifting his glass in the air for a toast. “To St. Nick!” He cheers with loudmouth Craig who’s in the middle of the dance floor in a Santa Claus costume complete with real fur and a fluffy white beard to boot.
The room erupts into yelps and howls just as “Christmas in Hollis” by Run DMC blares from the speakers. Naturally, Craig throws back his drink, sets the glass down, and starts doing an over-the-top worm on the floor, spinning out into breakdancing.
Chase, who’s been quietly standing beside me the whole time shakes his head as a chuckle sputters from his lips, and I can’t help but giggle too despite the weight on Spencer’s words on my chest.
“Such an idiot.” Chase laughs. His fixed stare on me lets on he wants to say so much more, but he’s holding back, letting me lead.
When I raise my chin to him, all the humor drains from me. I’m about to say the first coherent thing that comes to mind when my attention snags on Jessica. She’s dragging her factory model husband by the hand straight for Spencer.
I’m so pissed.
I could see it in Riley’s eyes, she was about to say something important, something I want to hear. Then fucking Jessica Faulkner is on the move. I want to march up to her and ask what exactly her problem is. Why is she intent on ruining things for me with Riley? I know it’ll fall on deaf ears, but also, she’s already clinking a fork against her wine glass.
The deejay cuts the music. A collective hum rumbles over the group.
“Happy holidays everyone! It’s almost Christmas,” she announces. Her tone is all cheer—a little too much, but her flaring nostrils and jerky head movements give away her rage. “To keep with all the merriment, I have a little gift for you all, a bit of news you’ll be interested to know about one of my favorite coworkers.”
My body tenses because I know she’s going there. I’m tempted to grab Riley by the hand and get her out of here and shield her from Jessica’s messiness. I’m not sure she wants help—or anything—from me anymore.
Drawing my shoulders back, I clear my throat. “She’s going to do it,” I say to Riley, but I can tell she’s already battening down the hatches, bracing for the backlash.
Her delicate shoulders slump. Her expression is blank as she sighs dejectedly. “Let her.”
“Okay, then, I’m right here.”
Jessica holds up a hand to quiet the crowd, stepping out of reach of her husband whose tight smile gives away his difference of opinion about her tactics. “Did you know we have a ‘diamond in the rough’ among us?” Her eyes and mouth widen with feigned awe. “She’s bright and ambitious, dresses the part for the job she wants, works harder than everyone…a real rarity.”
Riley lifts her chin as she and Jessica lock eyes.
“Her most notable quality? She’s willing to do whatever’s necessary to be the best.” Jessica drops her chin to her chest and closes her eyes for a beat before looking up with a renewed determination. “But what if I told you it was all a lie?”
The palpable excitement wafting through the room morphs into gasps. While each and every person looking on could stop this right now, no one says a word. They look around at each other, scanning for signs of who Jessica’s talking about, content to be onlookers rubbernecking the wreckage as it occurs.
“What if I told you Riley Mills and Chase Campbell were never in a serious relationship?” Every pair of eyes snap to us while she continues. “Not four years. Not two, but zero. They’ve flaunted themselves in front of us like a happy couple with their framed pictures, hand-holding, and lunch dates like they were—”
“That’s quite enough,” Spencer says, and a wave of relief washes over me.
People with any sort of scruples or self-control would stop at this point, cut their losses, and be content with the damage they’ve already inflicted. But Jessica Faulkner is not a normal person by any definition of the word.
“No, no. Spence, you definitely want to hear this.”
I almost laugh at the murder in his eyes when she shortens his name, but the shitshow isn’t over.
“I mean, I know we basically sell the promise of love for a living, but I’m pretty sure we mean the real stuff. Not some fabricated, watered-down, backyard, quickie version, right?” She’s practically foaming at the mouth, reveling in this… performance. “Especially since she’ll be your senior marketing manager. Is that what I heard you say over there in the corner, Spence? You’re promoting her?” She laughs hysterically.
I scrub a hand over my face and rest my hand over my mouth.
“Congratulations are definitely in order.” She slowly claps, egging on the crowd to follow suit.
Spencer pinches the bridge of his nose, and I’m guessing this villainous employee monologue wasn’t what he had in mind for his “season of joy.”
Come on.
“Now, it’s important to note a few things.” Jessica paces to the center of the room apparently playing to the whole crowd. Heaven forbid someone in the back misses out on this insanity. “We already know the ‘what’ and the ‘who’—Riley and Chase in an allegedly serious relationship. But, there’s still the matter of when, how, and most importantly, why.
“Let’s be clear, it was three and half weeks ago when our favorite boss announced this Christmas party.”
Jessica goes on to highlight—with full courtroom movie dramatics and flare—the corresponding timeline beginning with her initial mention of promotions to “sticky” people. This is followed by her supposed supporting evidence. Riley’s meeting with Spencer, both times she caught us making out, and Exhibit A, our notable separate arrivals to this party.
She takes measured steps over to Riley and me.
“So now I’m asking you, does their timely relationship seem like a coincidence, or the tactic of an unethical,” her gaze drifts pointedly to mine for a beat, “immoral, overly ambitious woman who’ll stop at nothing to move up in the company? Because I have to wonder…” She finally turns to face Riley whose watery eyes and silent resolve only make me want to touch her more. “Where is your integrity?”
My heart pounds against my chest. A war between anger and empathy for Riley wages inside me. I’ll be okay with or without this job, but I know what she stands for is almost, if not more important to her than what she works for.
“That’s about enough, Jessica,” I say, unwilling to stay silent a second longer. My voice is sharp and full of bass, my jaw tight enough to snap. “Everyone is watching and waiting on edge. You’ve got them eating out of your hand. That’s what you wanted, right? Well, I’m sorry about the struggles you and your husband have gone through but—”
“Stop it.” Riley’s red-rimmed eyes flit to me as she presses a hand to my chest. “Don’t do that. Hurt people hurt people. She’s hurting and taking it out on me, but I’m okay,” she says, her voice is thick with emotion when she turns to Jessica.
“You’re right,” she says plainly, letting her words calm her nemesis for a brief pause before speaking up. “She’s absolutely right. I wanted the job—still want the job—but I didn’t think I’d be considered. As the most recent hire, I didn’t have the tenure, but I have the degrees and so many ideas I can’t wait to share.” She laughs despite her tears. “Though my reason for wanting the job is driven by a personal cause, I never thought it was good enough. So, when Jessica mentioned most promotions were given to people with family or kids or people with reasons to stick around, I thought I had to have the same reasons as everyone else.”
Jessica drops her chin, the fight draining from her.
“It was all my idea. Chase had nothing to do with it. It was wrong of me to lie, and I’m sorry.” Her tears fall freely as she looks each person in the eyes before meeting my gaze.
I want to band my arms around her, kiss her hair and her eyes, tell her everything is going to be fine. But she’s withdrawn, already far away. “I’m sorry. About everything.”
Before I can stop, she steps into the opening with her chin raised. “You guys enjoy the party.”
Then, for what feels like the last time, she slips away.