Page 4 of 27 Kisses

She opens her mouth but hesitates as Jonah walks by. She nods, and once he’s out of earshot, she leans closer. “You didn’t charge them. Bishop Fields ate the cost?—”

“They had tons of medical bills, Nat. I’m not a monster.”

“No, you’re not.” And she says it as if I’m the one needing convincing.

My phone beeps again.

“Someone wants your attention, boss.”

I wave my hand. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” She laughs. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

Instead of taking the bait, I turn toward the consultation room. “Let’s go talk to Mrs. James.”

“Okay, sure,” she says, sounding smug for some reason. “And then you should call your secret boyfriend.”

Mrs. James isn’t happy and threatens to tell all her friends how unhappy she is. And her screeching gives me a headache. So, I give her New Year’s weekend.

The staff also worked last New Year’s for the charity event, and when Nat points that out, I stand firm. “This is an event venue. We do events. Often these events occur on a holiday. The staff can’t have both Christmas and New Year’s off. That’s final.”

Once I’m back in my office, I swallow a few pills with water, hastily eat a sandwich, and check my messages. I have several texts from Aidyn. The first few are friendly. But the last one blasts me for not responding.

I’m not used to this. Being in a relationship. Having to be accountable to someone. Which is ridiculous. We’ve been together for almost seven years. But most of that time he was here and I was in New York. Now that we’re both in the same town, it should be easier. Better. And in some ways, it is.

And others—not so much.

I send a quick text telling him I’ll call him later.

He doesn’t respond. Great.

My mood isn’t the best when Jonah knocks over a box of Dalek table toppers. “Don’t you have something else you could do?” I snap. His eyes get big, and I swear he’s about to cry.

Nat grabs my arm and pulls me into the hallway. “Stop harassing the help.”

“Why are we hiring twelve-year-olds?”

I expect a scathing retort back. Or at least a look. Instead, she shakes her head and hands me a list.

“What’s this?”

“We need a few things from the store.”

I hand it back to her. Not sure why I’m being so pissy. “I hire people to do that sort of thing.”

“They’re all in hiding,” she says, jabbing the paper against my chest. “I can’t pull off all these amazing weddings without people to help. Stop scaring the employees.”

“You remember I’m the boss, right?”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Jonah rushes by, ducking behind the large tombstone he’s carrying for an upcoming zombie wedding.

Once I leave Bishop Fields, I drive around to clear my head. I’m normally grumpy, but not so grumpy that I get thrown out of my own business. But it’s the holidays. If there was a way to fast-forward from after Halloween to mid-January, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Skip all the family-centered crap that sucks when you don’t have a family.

Or when you’ve lost yours.

When I first moved to New York, I didn’t have anyone to spend the holidays with, so skipping all of that stress was easier.