How the Hitman Stole Christmas

Autumn looks over at my hands as I pull the driving gloves on. “New York. Not the city, we live upstate in Syracuse.”

“You like it there?”

“It’s okay,” she says noncommittally. “I actually moved there with an ex-boyfriend. He got a job offer and really liked the place, so he asked me to come with him. I was game to begin with, but then he started banging the bartender who worked at this little Irish pub we frequented and my enthusiasm ebbed.”

Since she doesn’t sound too broken up about it, I don’t react too strongly. “That’ll do it.”

She nods, smiling faintly. “It’s not bad, though. I’ve lived worse places.”

“Hopefully you haven’t had worse boyfriends,” I return dryly.

She makes a zipping motion across her plump, pretty little lips. “I’ll let you believe that.”

“Jesus,” I mutter, shaking my head.

With a cute, conspiratorial look, she says, “It has been said that my taste in men is questionable.”

I’m a pretty questionable man, so I guess I shouldn’t complain about that. Still, despite my flaws, I may be a step up for her. I’m not inconsiderate of my woman’s feelings—when I have one, anyway—and I’ve certainly never had a problem with disloyalty.

I’m gonna teach her how to change a tire, too.

Well, I will once she likes me enough that she won’t try to get away the first time she gets her hands on car keys.

That makes me wonder exactly how I’m going to pull off this trip without raising an alarm. My family is fifty kinds of fucked up, but if they realize I have a captive girlfriend, they’re probably not gonna go along with it.

“What about your family?” I ask, thinking to poke around her past, find out who she loves, what kind of leverage I can use if I need to. “You came here to visit his—won’t your parents miss you this year? Sisters, brothers?”

Autumn shakes her head, shifting her gaze to the purse in her lap and absently fiddling with the strap. The tone of her voice drops, so I can tell this is a topic that makes her sad. “My grandparents raised me, but they’ve both passed, so it’s usually just me for the holidays. A couple friends have extended pity invites after awkward, foot-in-mouth moments where they asked about my holiday plans only to realize I didn’t have any, but… I obviously didn’t want to take them up on those.”

“Yeah, those don’t hold much appeal for me either. I’ve got a couple of colleagues with friendly wives who try to take me in for Christmas, too. My boss’ wife knows she can’t invite every lonely soul on his payroll over for dinner, so she makes Christmas care packages for us instead.”

Which, to be fair, some of them really like—even if they pretend they don’t. The kinds of men who do this type of work don’t typically have families worthy of Hallmark movies to go home to. Those Christmas cookies and other goodies she sends might be the only touch of holiday warmth a lot of us get.

For most of us, Christmas is just like any other time of year. For some, it’s a touch lonelier.

“That’s thoughtful,” Autumn says. “My boss recycles Christmas decorations and acts like it literally kills her to throw an office party each year.”

“Where do you work?”

“At a bank. I’m a teller.”

“And your ex, what does he do?”

She frowns. “My ex?”

Shit. “Uh, sorry. Brady, I think you said was his name? The boyfriend you came home with.”

“Oh. We actually met at the bank. He’s a finance guy.”

That explains it. Finance guys are always assholes.

I suppose a lot of people think men in my line of work are always assholes, too, but a lot of us are pretty stand-up guys if you really get to know us.

“I’m usually single for Christmas. When Brady asked me to come home with him this year, I was floored. I thought for sure this year would be different,” Autumn says, drawing my attention back to her. “I had these silly daydreams about showing up at his mom and dad’s house, and his mom would be waiting with open arms, and his dad would smile, and…” She trails off, shaking her head at her own dashed hopes and looking out the window. “I guess I built it up to be more than it was. My own fault. I should’ve gone in with more modest expectations.”

I make a mental note to text my sister later and coach her about enthusiastically greeting my new girlfriend when I bring her home, make sure she feels welcome. I also need to update her on the name since I’m not bringing a Sierra, but an Autumn.

“You wanted to feel like part of his family.”

Autumn looks back over at me with a sad little smile and nods. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I was hoping for.”