Club Endless Fantasy

“I assume he put you on the non-holiday ad-copy.” She raised an eyebrow.

“That’s been done for a long time. I’m working on spring.” I motioned to my computer. “Want to take a look? I could use your expertise.”

“I don’t really have any experience designing ad campaigns.” She shook her head back and forth.

“You shop at Dillinger’s, don’t you?” I narrowed my eyes.

“Of course.” She nodded.

“Do you click on ads when they pop up on Facebook?” I tilted my head inquisitively.

“Yeah…” Her head snapped back slightly. “Have you been spying on me?”

“No, you’re just my target demographic.” I smiled and pointed at my screen. “Would you click on this?”

“Is that purse going to be in the spring collection?” Her eyes got wide, and she moved closer to my computer.

“I’ll take that as a yes…” I laughed under my breath and showed her a few more ideas that I was working on.

Dillinger’s wasn’t the biggest accounts in Thornton Advertising’s portfolio by any means, but it was the most important one I had ever been asked to work on. I got my start at the company as an intern, and when a rival poached several of the guys from their Digital Media department, I was offered a full-time job if I could start immediately. I jumped on the opportunity, even though it meant putting college on the backburner for a little while. It was the kind of job I hoped I would land after graduation anyway, so I didn’t see myself as a drop-out. There were plenty of people with a degree that would have traded places with me in an instant. They just weren’t at the right place at the right time.

“The stocking…” Mary walked by with a whimsical hum in her voice, almost like she was trying to sing her words. “It isn’t decorated.”

“I swear to—” I hopped up from my desk and prepared to tell Mary exactly where she could shove her stocking—but my boss was standing right in front of me. “Hello, Mr. Thornton!”

“Elly…” He tilted his head. “When will I see your drafts for the Dillinger account?”

“I should have them to you by the end of the day.” I nodded quickly.

“Good.” He nodded. “And your stocking?”

“I’ll have tha

t done before I leave as well.” I stifled my sigh until he walked away.

Mr. Thornton normally didn’t pay much attention to the Christmas Mafia as long as they got their work done. I thought it was a given that they weren’t putting in the kind of effort they should have been if they had so much spare time on their hands. He was the last person in the office I expected to take a personal interest in the status of my stocking—but if he cared enough to mention it, then I needed to make sure I kept my promise. I would have blown off Mary without thinking twice, but Mr. Thornton decided whether or not I had a desk to come back to the next day. My stocking moved up on my list of priorities—firmly in the number two spot behind the ad-copy for Dillinger’s Department Store.

I finished the ad-copy as promised and emailed it to Mr. Thornton. I spent the rest of my day going through emails and responding to the ones that needed my attention. The office was almost empty before I finally reached for my stocking and tried to figure out what I was going to do with it. Every desk had one—proudly hung by their computers with care—and they were all decorated. Glue covered in glitter seemed to be the most popular option, but that was rather extreme for my tastes. I reached for a black marker, wrote my name along the top of the stocking as legible as possible, and then drew a couple of snowflakes on the red part.

“There…” I picked up a paper clip and folded it into a makeshift hook. “Now it’s decorated.”

My stocking was done, so it was time to go home. The drive was especially heinous with all the extra holiday traffic, and the fact that I wanted to pick up a bottle of wine on the way made it even more annoying. I skipped two of the stores that I normally stopped at because they had Salvation Army workers standing in front of them and turned into the parking lot for the liquor store near my apartment. They didn’t have the best selection, but I didn’t care. I got to avoid a confrontation with one of Santa’s helpers, so I was happy. The rest of the drive to my apartment was rather peaceful—except for the fact that I couldn’t turn on the radio without being audibly assaulted by Jingle Bells or Silent Night.

“Good evening Ms. Bell!” The doorman smiled when I approached. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you.” I gave him a nod and walked through the door.

I could already feel the bubble bath I was going to be soaking in while I enjoyed at least two glasses of wine and listened to some music that was completely devoid of holiday cheer. It was going to be an amazing evening, and if the mood was right, it might even be a date night. It had been a while since I put myself to bed early and took a little trip to paradise before I drifted off to sleep. It would certainly take away some of the stress I had. Thinking about it kept the smile on my face until I walked into the lobby and saw a familiar face—one of my step-cousins from my father’s other family.

“Starla?” My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Elly!” She waved and hopped to her feet. “I was beginning to think you had plans tonight, and I came all this way for nothing.”

“No…” I tensed up when she tried to hug me. “You could have called…”

“I’ve been trying to call you.” She took a step back from our awkward embrace. “Didn’t you get my messages?”

“Oh.” I looked away to break eye contact. “Yeah, I just haven’t had time to call you back. I’ve been busy with work—you know how it goes.”