by Rene Penn
SANTA BRING ME A RYAN
Rene Penn
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Rene Penn. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review or article.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Epilogue
A Letter from Rene
About the Author
One
Every Christmas season, Julia Carmichael and her best friend Kerri did the unthinkable—they battled their way through a suburban shopping mall, looking for gifts. A necessary evil to resist the powerful force of gift-shopping procrastination. The friends had spent the last hour complaining about the difficult parking, crowded shops, and blaring medley of holiday music. Despite all that, they enjoyed spending time together and searching for the perfect gifts. Carrying cups of spiked hot cocoa helped, too. Yep, some things couldn't be one-clicked.
But if Jules could click a button to skip the holiday, she’d do it.
This Christmas would be her family’s first since her parents’ divorce. And the reality of it made her want to crawl into a stocking and hide until December 26.
Too bad I can't.
Inside the mall, a gleaming Sharper Image store caught Jules' attention. One of her dad's favorite places. She and Kerri walked inside and perused dozens of shiny, sleek gadgets.
“Jules, why don’t I get something here for you?”
“Just get me what I asked for.”
Kerri rolled her eyes. “I’m not buying yoga socks with the toes cut out for your Christmas present.”
“It’s a great gift, and much more practical than my other wish.” Jules picked up a men’s electric back hair shaver. Her dad was rather hairy, but she couldn’t get past the fact that he might be offended when he opened a gift box and saw this inside. Merry Christmas, Dad. Wishing you a hairless and happy holiday.
“What else do you want?” Kerri asked.
“A Ryan.”
“An iron? No one uses irons anymore.”
“No, a Ryan. R-Y-A-N,” Jules spelled out.
“Oh.” Then Kerri’s face changed, as if she had licked a candy cane. “Oh,” she repeated, with a purr this time. “Any particular Ryan you had in mind?”
“Ryan Gosling, Ryan Reynolds, Ryan Phillipe. Do you see my dilemma, and why toeless yoga socks are more practical?”
Kerri tugged Jules by the elbow. She put the shaver down, and they left the store, joining the swarm of mall shoppers. They veered into Victoria's Secret, a blast of lace, silk, and sexy perfumes.
Kerri asked, “Don’t we know any non-celebrity, edible Ryans? Wait, isn’t your boss named Bryan?” She picked up a silver lace thong with beads in an area that looked very uncomfortable for long-term wear. “How exciting would it be to wear these during your one-on-one meetings?” She shook the beaded underwear in Jules’ direction, making Jules bristle. Kerri hung the panties back on the rack.
“Forget it.” Jules walked over to a shrine of fragrances, with pops of bling and glass and color. She picked up a cologne called Very Sexy for Him.
Kerri peered over her shoulder. “Interesting choice, since we were talking about your boss. A subconscious connection, perhaps?”
“What? No.” A warm rush pulsed up Jules’s arm.
Kerri spritzed herself with a sample of body mist. “Tell me, why is he so bad?”
"I think he kind of hates me. I never get a high-performance review. He says I socialize too much with my colleagues, which could be a distraction for them. He's very by-the-book." Despite that, there was something about him that Jules found alluring. She'd never tell Kerri. Her friend would pounce on that and run. "Bryan and I aren't compatible." So, why did Jules hold onto the Very Sexy for Him cologne bottle as if she'd walk out of the store with it? She gently set it back on the glass shelf.
“Maybe he needs someone like you to loosen him up a bit.” Kerri added, “Plus, you haven’t had a boyfriend in a while.”
“That’s not true. There was Luke.”
The brief two-month interlude had ended shortly before Halloween. Same thing happened with another guy a year earlier—definitely a pattern in Jules' love life.
She tried to sound cheerful. “Dating will pick up soon. I always hit a dry spell before the holidays. Too much pressure for guys. You know, the whole ‘Do we exchange gifts’ thing. And ‘Do we hang out with each other’s family’ thing.”
“The right guy won’t feel pressured by that.”
“So, I hear. I wouldn’t know.”
When a guy stuck around for the holidays, it meant he was into you. The idea of that made Jules’ heart go all jingle bells. Despite her lackluster track record, she always carried a shred of hope that holiday love—real love—would eventually come along. Her parents’ love had inspired her, kept her hopeful.
But after their divorce, it crushed all hope Jules had in true love.
If they can’t do it, how can I?
Kerri cleared her throat. “Speaking of hanging out with family. Are you still spending Christmas alone?”
Jules touched a slippery, silk nightie. “Yep.”
“You have two parents who love you, and you choose not to see either one for the holiday. For what?” She squinted. “You’re not punishing them for getting a divorce, are you?”
"No," Jules snipped. "I don't want to choose which parent I see for Christmas. That's all."
It wasn't intentional, but Kerri's question stung a little. Of course, Jules wasn't punishing her parents for getting divorced. She simply needed a bit more time to accept their new normal.
And maybe she was in denial.
Kerri tapped her forehead. “Your logic doesn’t make sense, friend.”
“I know, it’s dumb. But it’s my Dumb Thing.” They’d gone through this before. “Can we just drop it?”
Kerri's hairline lifted, the way it did when she had a bright idea. "I know. Why don't you alternate Christmases? Christmas this year with your mom and next year with your dad? Or vice versa."
“I’d still have to choose who gets the first year. And I don’t want to upset the one I don’t choose.”
“They won’t care, silly.”
“I will,” Jules said a bit too firmly. “And what if they’re only saying they don’t care, but deep down inside, they do?”
“If I weren’t going to Barbados, I’d wrangle you into a BFF Christmas. I don’t like my Jules alone for the holidays.” Kerri pouted.
“Your Jules will be fine.” She tried to lighten things up. “I probably won’t do this again. Call this holiday season a transition period while I adjust to my broken home status.”
Kerri pulled a face. “Puh-lease. You’re a grown woman, not an eight-year-old being trucked every week from one parent’s house to the other.”
Jules ignored her. “By next December, I’ll have met someone. We won’t be having this conversation because I won’t be solo for the holiday.”
I'll have to get through this Christmas first. Alone.
Touching the lace, a tender wave of excitement ignited Jules’ fingers. “Maybe you're right. It wouldn't be a big deal if I flirted with him a little. See what happens.”
"You have nothing to lose." Kerri’s eyes sparkled. "At the very least, you're spreading holiday cheer.”
Jules half-smiled at her friend. “We both know this will never work.”
"Probably not." Kerri whispered, "But what if it did?" Her beautiful dark brown eyes exploded like Christmas lights. She took the bra from Jules' hand. "My Christmas present to you. Wait till Bryan sees this. You'll have a glowing performance review forever."
“One day at a time, Christmas Cupid. Let’s start with tomorrow first.”
◆◆◆
“You want me to lay off Jules? It’s Christmas time for God’s sake.”
Bryan Blakely was twenty-nine years old, a director of account management at an advertising agency, and had never laid off an employee before. Being told to carry out this horrific task for the first time was bad enough. But doing it during the holiday season, a week and a half before Christmas? It made Bryan sick to his stomach.
He stared at his boss and mentor, Ernie Duchall, who sat behind his desk with an air of nonchalance.
Ernie said, “I need to trim the team’s budget, so I’m looking at salaries. Makes the most sense.” He popped some red-and-green M&Ms in his mouth. “My niece, Bianca, just graduated from Temple with a degree in marketing. She doesn’t want much in the way of salary. I thought this would be a good fit.”
"By 'this,' you mean Jules' job?"
As Ernie nodded, his glasses slipped down his long nose. "Yes." He pushed up the tortoise frame with a long, thin finger. "You have to admit, Jules isn't first-string quarterback material. I looked at her performance reviews. They're pretty marginal."
Bryan had given her those reviews. He knew exactly how marginal they were. Naively, he'd hoped the scores would encourage her to improve—not factor in giving her the worst Christmas present of all time.
He said, "A marginal score shouldn't equate to being fired."
Bryan cursed himself for not doing more to help Jules improve, for not being a better manager. If he had, maybe he and Jules wouldn’t be in this predicament.
Ernie splayed his stupid long fingers in the air. "Let's not use the word, 'fired' or 'firing.' 'Layoff' or 'letting go' are better choices."
“Whatever you want to call it, I’m completely against it.”
Ernie’s chin disappeared. “I’ve already informed Bianca that her start-date is January second. We’ll give Bianca a lower salary than Jules. That’s a win-win.”
Win-win? Was he serious?
Bryan stared at Ernie. “But Jules loses in this scenario. Big time.”
“Yes, but…” Ernie arranged his face into a smile. “Bianca’s first-string material. You’ll see. It’ll be a win for you when she gets here.”
Say no. I don’t have to do this.
But he did.
Ernie had shown Bryan the ropes during his three years at Jacobs Stern Advertising, heralded Bryan’s trustworthiness and work ethic “among the pool of creative egos,” and awarded him two promotions to his current position. Sure, Ernie had his shrewd moments like most bosses, but he’d directed those moments at other people. Bryan had been left unscathed.
But if he didn’t comply with Ernie’s wish, would he jeopardize the benefits of being Ernie’s prized mentee?
“It would be great,” Ernie said calmly, “if you could break the news to her after the holiday Christmas party. Remember, she's planning it." Ernie added, "Let's keep that ball rolling along. The bad news can stay under wraps for a while."
“The longer we wait, the closer we get to Christmas.”
Ernie shrugged a little. “That’s the way these things go sometimes.”
Ernie's plan was wrong. All wrong.
Bryan panned Ernie’s face for a shred of guilt or remorse. None. He’d underestimated how thick Ernie’s skin was. Meanwhile, a thin film of sweat covered Bryan beneath his shirt. He loosened the knot in his tie.
Ernie squinted, leaned forward. “You don’t have a problem with this, do you?”
Yes, Bryan had a huge problem. Only Scrooge wouldn’t.
Ernie pounced on Bryan’s hesitation. “We’ve been through a lot.”
Translation: Ernie had helped Bryan a lot.
“True, but the holiday timing sucks, Ernie.”
“It’s not ideal. But let’s face it, neither is Jules’ work.”
Bryan frowned, even though his boss had a point. Regardless, no one deserved this kind of treatment.
Ernie said, “Having a coordinator on your team that can pull her weight can make a big difference. I thought you’d be pleased about this change. I haven’t steered you wrong yet, have I?”
“No.” The nearest wall stood yards away, but Bryan suddenly felt backed up against it.
Ernie’s heavy brow lifted, his non-verbal way of repeating, “So what’s the problem?”
"How much severance?" Bryan asked, gruffly.
“Four weeks should be sufficient, especially with the holiday timing.”
“Eight,” Bryan countered.
Ernie's chin shifted to the side a few degrees. "C'mon, Bryan. She hasn't been here long enough to get that kind of severance."
“Eight weeks.” Bryan glowered down at Ernie. “And Ted Hatcher goes, too.”
Ted was as useful as an office plant and should’ve been fired long ago. As a previous owner’s son, nepotism had kept him off the chopping block. If Ernie wanted to get rid of Jules so his niece could have the job, he’d have to get rid of Ted, too.
Bryan said, “I only have room for one nepotism case on my team.”
Boom!
He straightened his back, glad to know at least part of his spine remained intact.
Ernie cleared his throat. “All right. Eight weeks. Plus, Ted Hatcher.” He glared at Bryan. “You’ll be able to handle this, right?”
What? Did Ernie think he couldn’t do it? Now, Bryan felt insulted. “Like I said, the timing sucks. But I can handle it.”
"Good. So…" Ernie forced another smile. He stuffed more M&Ms in his mouth. "What are your plans for the holidays? Spending it with family? Girlfriend?"
Though Bryan didn’t appreciate the subject change, it may have been for the best. “I’m heading back to Montana to see family. There’s no girlfriend.”
He'd been there, done that. Three years ago, he and his girlfriend from home had made plans to start a new life in DC. But she changed her mind at the last minute. He moved east anyway, while she stayed back in Montana. He'd gotten over what happened, but he'd been reluctant to get into a relationship since.
Get close to a woman again only to have her walk away when things are getting serious? No thanks.
Ernie said, “Life is less complicated when you’re single. Those years were the most productive time of my career.”
Bryan nodded. Of course, Ernie understood. They’d been on the same page about most things—except for this issue with Jules.
Ernie rattled off his family’s Christmas plans, but Bryan hardly listened. Not when he’d have to shit on his employee’s holiday happiness.
He couldn't defy Ernie by keeping Jules on. But what if he delivered the news sooner? It could give Jules time to digest things and plan her holiday accordingly.
The idea quieted the sick rumble in Bryan's stomach. No, he wouldn't wait until after the Christmas party to let Jules go. He would tell her as soon as possible because she deserved better.
Tomorrow. I’ll tell her then.
Two
The next afternoon, Bryan sat in his windowed of
fice, a decent-sized space that faced the afternoon sun. But the sun was about to set, and a dark chill covered the air. Or perhaps it was ice settling over his nerves. He pushed his chair a few feet from his desk and buried his head in his hands. The tops of his fingers met his short brown hair.
How he felt won’t compare to how Jules was about to feel, he reminded himself.
The clock on Bryan’s desk turned to 4:30. His office door would open at any second.
Suddenly, Bryan grew conscious of the disorganization on his desk. He moved his calculator to the other side of his computer, arranged his file folders into a neat pile, and straightened his ruler and pen holder. His eyes focused on the scissors in that pen holder. Shiny, pointy scissors that would be great for stabbing the person who has the nerve to lay you off right before Christmas. Unlikely to happen, but just in case, he opened a drawer and threw the scissors inside.
He heard a soft knock on the door. Bryan wiggled the knot of his tie and inhaled. Jules appeared as he said, “Come in.”
Bryan stared at her to gauge her mood. Jules was never hard to read. Usually smiling, almost always happy. Today, her oval face and bright blue eyes showed her usual approachability. Even her hair, which she often swept back in a sleek ponytail, was down. Soft waves of honey billowed past her shoulders. Her lips, painted the color of a red rose, greeted him with a smile.
She looked…different.
He got up and closed the door. A delicate fragrance of vanilla and mint wafted his way as he stepped past her.
“Have a seat.”
Jules sat as he returned to his roller chair. The time had come to deliver this dreadful news.
“I called you in to discuss something very important.”
"Uh-huh." Her voice was breathy, and she edged forward on the chair.
“And it must stay between us.”
Her cheeks flushed. "Of course." She leaned towards him a little and did something with her lips: bit the bottom one, licked the top, or pursed them both. He couldn't tell what, exactly, but it distracted him.
For a split-second, it seemed like she was…