Ryan chuckled. “Is the Grinch green?”
Ugh. That might be a deal breaker. I wasn’t in the mood for fifty well-meaning locals quizzing me on my love life. No, thanks.
“I promise you’ll be taken care of,” Ryan pleaded.
Taking a long sip of mocha while I considered, my eyes locked on the mother and daughter placing their order. The little girl bounced on the balls of her feet, so happy to be there. Her mom smiled down at her, tired eyes shining.
My brother was right. We couldn’t let Mom and Dad holiday alone. I sighed. “Fine. I’ll be there.”
Ryan let out a whoop. “It’s going to be a good Christmas, Holly.”
I offered a noncommittal grunt as I hung up.
Was there such a thing?
If Nick Kinsley never saw another red-suited man with a white beard, he’d be happy. He fought the urge to press the Delete key on the entire jewelry project as he adjusted the font size down. The client had demanded they incorporate five golden rings along with Santa in the new campaign, which made Nick’s left eye twitch. They wanted social media graphics, billboard mock-ups, a new campaign logo…It all screamed Christmas, which made Nick want to scream back.
Everything was due tomorrow, and Nick’s co-worker and friend Ryan Sinclair had passed the template to him before lunch for his “sharp eye” to look over the samples one last time before submitting.
Which meant Ryan was sucking up.
Which meant Ryan needed something.
“See? What’d I tell you?Somuch better.” Ryan clapped him on the shoulder, jostling Nick’s hand holding the computer mouse. “I knew you’d know what to do,” he said and slurped the soda from his to-go cup from his favorite sandwich shop down the street.
Nick spun in his chair to face him as Ryan rested on the edge of his desk. Brand Blizzard opted for open workstations rather than cubicles, which had its pros and cons. Though lately, everything about marketing felt like a giant con. “Uh, I went from Garamond twenty-two to nineteen, man. I’m not a genius—you did the work.”
Ryan shifted his weight, hooking one leg over the other. The motion revealed his Buddy the Elf socks, ones he’d probably wear year-round if his new wife would let him. The faint strains of “Jingle Bells” drifted from the overhead speakers, adding to the tension headache climbing up Nick’s neck. “Well…it made all the difference.”
“Okay, what gives? You’ve been weird since you got off the phone earlier.” Nick tossed him the yellow stress ball that he always kept in reach of his computer.
Ryan snagged it with one hand and gave it a few pumps. “No weirder than usual.”
“Yes, weirder.” Nick caught the ball Ryan threw back, then paused. “It’s nothing with Lydia, is it?” The two had been married six months now, but the way Ryan talked, you’d think it had been six hours. “Don’t tell me the honeymoon stage ended already.”
“As if.” Ryan scoffed. “She’s obsessed with me, man.” He flexed one arm as if to explain why.
Nick raised his eyebrow.
Ryan managed to hold his straight face for about three seconds before his lovesick smile broke free. He shoved his glasses up on his nose. “And the feeling’s mutual, as you know.”
“As the entire office knows.” Nick threw the ball again, this time aiming at Ryan’s head. It ricocheted off his temple and bounced onto Nick’s keyboard. Thankfully, he’d already saved the template.
Though honestly, nothing about this campaign would feel like a loss. If it had been his ad, he’d have tried to get the client to veer a different direction. Less cheesy, more genuine. Less commercialism, more family oriented.
But what would he know about that?
Ryan returned the ball to its designated spot by Nick’s keyboard, between his AirPods charger and his favorite SHH, NOT YET coffee mug. “Three more days, and Lydia and I will be going home to Point Bluff for our first Christmas together.” He spread his hands wide. “Freshly fallen snow, Dad’s secret-recipe sausage balls, fifty rolling acres of my childhood. Lydia’s going to love Christmas there.”
“Nice. You got a good gift in the works?” Nick gestured to his monitor, which was probably the only one in the office that got dusted regularly. “I know where you can find a sale on jewelry.”
“Funny. We just did the ring thing at the wedding. But I’ve got the gift covered, don’t worry.” Ryan took the last drag from his paper cup. “What are you doing for Christmas?”
“Good question.” Nick leaned back in his chair. “I’m trying to decide.”
“Oh yeah?” Ryan’s voice pitched with way too much casualness, which meant he was up to something. Which meant Nick’s assumption was correct—Ryan was sucking up.
Ryan cleared his throat. “Decide between what, exactly?”
