Ian: Maybe…
Elly: It’s late. I need to go to bed.
Ian: With visions of sugar-plums dancing in your head?
Elly: Goodnight, Ian.
I plugged in my phone to charge, and I was still laughing to myself when my head hit the pillow. Ian was intentionally corny, and I always did have a thing for guys that made me laugh. The wine probably made it funnier than it should have been, but I never liked guys that took themselves seriously or thought they were god’s gift to my gender. The college I went to seemed to be infested with guys like that, and they annoyed the hell out of me. I didn’t mind confidence, but there was a thin line between being confident and being in love with yourself. I might have actually gone on a few more dates in college if my first instinct wasn’t to roll my eyes when they started trying to turn on what they called charm. I laughed at them because they were ridiculous, not because they were amusing.
Attractiveness only goes so far…
I woke up the next morning and did my usual dash around my apartment to get ready for work. I made it to the office before everyone except for Mr. Thornton, who came in so early that there was normally frost on his car by the time I arrived. The ad-copy for Dillinger’s Department Store was done for the most part, but I had plenty of work to keep me busy until Mr. Thornton had a chance to review it and recommend any necessary changes. I took care of the stuff I normally did in the mornings and was already on my second cup of coffee when most of the other people arrived at the office.
“I see you finally decorated your stocking.” Mary walked up to my desk and smiled. “Interesting design choice…”
“I told you I would take care of it.” I gave her a side-eyed glance and kept working.
“It probably won’t win the decorating contest, but it’s nice to see some Christmas spirit in your cubicle for a chance.” She nodded. “I made cookies—reindeer this time.”
“Thanks.” I managed not to roll my eyes.
“You better go grab one quick.” She smiled. “You’ll have to wait until Monday if they run out before you make it to the break room. I’m off tomorrow…”
Is it Thursday already? Wow, this week is flying by. At least tomorrow will be rather peaceful if Mary is out of the office…
I got a response from Mr. Thornton shortly before lunch with some ideas for making the Dillinger’s Department Store ad-copy pop a little more for the audience. I read through his recommendations and immediately started working on them. I wanted my first big opportunity to exceed his expectations because I saw it as a test—if I did a good job, then there would be more opportunities in the future and possibly a promotion when it was time for my annual performance review.
The Christmas Mafia didn’t seem to care much about their performance review—they were sending emails back and forth with ideas for songs they could perform at the annual Christmas party like that was their job. By the mid-afternoon, I was looking forward to the end of the day—not because I was ready to go home—but because I would have some peace and quiet at the office so I could finish my work.
Even if I get everything done before I leave the office tomorrow, I may still come in over the weekend just so I can take care of a few things—it’s not like I have anything else to do.
“Nice stocking…” Mr. Thornton walked up to my desk and chuckled. “I didn’t realize you were an artist.”
“Yeah, they call me a modern-day Monet.” I turned to him and smiled. “I’m working on the changes you recommended.”
“Good, but don’t feel like you have to rush.” He looked at his watch. “I’m actually leaving a little early today, and I have a big meeting tomorrow, so I probably won’t even see your changes until Monday.”
“You’ll definitely have it before then.” I nodded quickly.
A few people decided that Mr. Thornton’s early departure gave them permission to skip out on the last fifteen minutes of their workday. I was polite enough to reply to the people that said something to me on their way out, but I definitely wasn’t ready to stop working. After the office was mostly empty, I reached for my phone, so I could play some music while I finished making the changes to the Dillinger’s ad-copy. I was surprised to see that I had a notification from the Secret Santa Romance app—Ian had sent me another message.
Crap, I never deleted it…
Chapter Four
Ian
I thought I was going to be able to explain the mistake that led to Elly getting matched with me and then let the app work it’s magic to find another match for her once I removed my profile. Instead, her reaction prompted me to ask more questions, and her responses intrigued me. She didn’t seem to be interested in pursuing a relationship—through an app or otherwise—and her holiday spirit was basically nonexistent. I wondered what could have gotten her to that point in her life. She was young, still in college, and the entirety of her future was directly in front of her. I told myself I was going to message her again just to try and convince her to use the app—not because she was pretty—or because I enjoyed the brief banter, we had the previous night.
Ian: Your profile is still here. I guess you decided not to delete the app after all?
Elly: I meant to, but I forgot…
Ian: Ah, maybe it’s a Christmas miracle? :)
Elly: My forgetfulness?
Ian: Perhaps.