Page 17 of Love Letters to Christmas

Trading my favorite kidney for validation. Any takers? No? Haha. ’Kay…

Amelia

Sitting in a conference room full of fake snow, bathed in the light glimmering through snowflake window clings, I vibrate—giddy.

Christmas in July! Brian was able to get permission for a Christmas in July event! I don’t know when or how it happened, but it did. I…also don’t know where our boss is…but I’m sure that’s not important!

Just look how happy everyone is!

Seated beside an ecstatic Will, who has been narrating the slides for her thus far, Ruby groans.

Across from Ruby, Frank has collapsed against the table, and she might be sobbing…from joy definitely.

Micheal from HR opens his mouth, but Brian presses the button on his remote before he can speak. “Our Christmas in July event is not mandatory. It is not invasive. It is not a lawsuit .”

I hardly know why such a thing would need to be said. Of course it’s not a mandatory, invasive, lawsuit. HR is always trying to ruin good fun and team-building morale for no reason. The department just doesn’t appreciate kindness or blessings.

Crossing my arms, I shake my head at the man—stopping abruptly when he glances my way.

“While Liam is busy in Europe launching a new branch and taking a late honeymoon, he’s left me in charge of morale,” Brian declares.

“ What? ” Ruby snaps.

Frank lifts her head. She looks starkly horrified…but I’m sure that’s just the snowflake light across her round cheeks and fabulous glasses. “I thought he left the manager of our closest branch in charge.”

“Of business things. I’m in charge of morale , which is very different.” Brian nods, chipper. “Not to mention I’ve got the platinum AMEX to prove it.”

Micheal pales.

“I’ve planned a very special month-long celebration to keep up morale in our beloved boss’s absence.

” Brian changes to the next slide, which boasts an incredible amount of adorable Christmas cheer.

He paces in front of the snowmen and reindeer set up behind the projector screen.

“You may have noticed the decorations that have sprung up overnight.”

I have. They’re lovely.

Brian continues, “That is because I have been here all weekend.”

My mouth drops open. So that’s why he’s barely been home these past few days. He should have asked me to help. I would have loved to decorate for Christmas in July. It’s quite practically my namesake, and I’m sure decorating with Brian would be fun , not whatever decorating with my parents was.

“Some of the tiny, brief, practically-inconsequential complaints I overheard where it concerned our Valentine celebration was that it interrupted workflow and was an overall ‘nuisance’.” He air quotes as his eyes merrily roll.

I plaster my hand to my heart. “ No .”

Solemn, Brian pins me with a sorrowful look.

“Yes.” Then, in a whirl of brightness, he throws out his arms and the slide behind him changes to display Christmas-colored fireworks.

“That is why this time all events shall take place outside working hours and! Not be a daily conundrum to coordinate into everyone’s schedules.

Remember how I said this time our fun isn’t mandatory? ”

Feeble, cautious confirmation rises around the table.

“Well, I lied,” he says.

“ What? ” Ruby exclaims, yet again. I think she’s either hyperventilating or seething while her husband attempts, futilely, to settle her.

At one point, I’m pretty sure she whacks him with her cane, but who can say for sure?

I’m focused on the very important presentation that Brian clearly put immense time and sleepless nights of effort into.

Brian’s lashes flutter, innocent as a dove.

“Only a little bit. Most of the event isn’t mandatory.

But the Christmas party on the twenty-fifth?

That is. One eensy-weensy little mandatory thing that you merely have to make a five minute appearance at.

That’s all. For the sake of team building and fun.

Unity. Morale! Remember the morale? Very important thing, morale. ”

I agree! It’s so important that everything Brian’s worked very hard on should be mandatory! Not wanting to improve your morale by a riveting three hundred percent—according to a slide from earlier in Brian’s presentation—is crazy.

“I’m emailing Liam,” Ruby grits, reaching for her phone and scowling as the screen reader assists her.

“Our first event starts today, after this meeting,” Brian says. “And it is a work-related event, purely voluntary…for everyone but Will.”

Ruby’s husband perks as her fingers stall.

“For Will, it is mandatory,” Brian states.

Will presents an offended front. “As if I’d ever pass up some good morale and team-building fun.”

Brian beams. “That’s the spirit. I’ve set up an email to go out with information on how this will work.

In it, you’ll find your log-in information and a link to a website that possesses a game-styled database to track building-wide performance.

Department heads will be at liberty to alter and add tasks to the database.

Everyone who wants to participate can earn points for completing their work and lose points for causing distractions or failing to achieve their bare minimum work requirements each day—as determined by you, our department heads.

Earning enough points puts you on the nice list, which will result in a marvelous prize come the Christmas party on the twenty-fifth.

Losing points or failing to procure enough to reach nice-list status before the party results in being placed on the naughty list.” Letting his voice turn from chipper to pitiful, Brian says, “I have done my very best to make this appealing to everyone, Ruby. I built a website for you. An entire website. With full alternative text. Is making an appearance at one Christmas party on a day you’ll already be here for work anyway really a big deal? ”

“This is manipulation,” she states, voice hard. “ Gross manipulation.”

Brian pouts. “Well, you can’t see how terribly sad I look, so I have to resort to other means in order to be inclusive.

I am, after all, nothing if not an equal-opportunity manipulator.

The terms are simple, Mrs. Ruby Vann… Nearly an entire month of bribing your coworkers into focusing on work in exchange for not bothering our dear boss when he’s asked for me to do this while he’s gone.

Furthermore, I’ve made you the sole benefactor of your department, which means you are free to tank your husband’s points and rob him of the party prize should he fail to adhere to your standards of work ethic. For one. entire. month.”

Horrified, Will grips the dress shirt over his heart. “How could you?”

“Easily,” Brian says, merry. “A month of bribery, and five minutes at a party. Everything else you’re free to skip…

unless the feeling of joy compels you to enjoy yourself or something.

I dunno. It’s really all up to you if you participate in anything beyond the work motivation I spent hours setting up with specifically you in mind. ”

Looking positively unhappy about it , Ruby sets down her phone. “Will has to work?”

Brian locks his hands behind his back and rocks on his heels. “Yep. Invested individuals are curious to see if it’s possible.”

“Hey,” Will protests. “I work all the time. Very hard.”

“Organizing your photos of Ruby doesn’t count as working hard .” Frank rubs her eyes and fixes her dark-rimmed glasses back on her nose. “What’s the prize for making it to the nice list?”

Brian’s smile is either angelic…or positively wicked.

Whichever it is, I am in love with the way he says, “I suppose everyone will find out…just like everyone will find out what happens if they’re naughty by Christmas.

” He presses the next-slide button. “Here’s a breakdown of the calendar, which will be in everyone’s inboxes by the time you return to your offices.

I could go on and on about all the fun I have planned, but I can tell everyone is raring to return to their offices and log in on Love Letters to Christmas, AKA the charming name I gave to the site.

On your way, do remember: we must work very, very hard in Santa’s absence, lest he be grumpy upon his return.

” Beaming, Brian locks his hands behind his back.

“Since I’m never asking for questions at the end of a meeting again… ”

“But I have a ton of questions,” Micheal begins.

Brian wisely refuses him the opportunity to continue as he proceeds to the final slide, and Christmas music plays, drowning out the man’s dissent.

Procuring a box covered in red and green from behind an inflatable snowman in the corner, Brian declares, “Please leave any complaints or concerns in this complaints and concerns box, which will absolutely not be shredded and recycled by EOD. For notable and esteemed members who may find this method tedious, my email is open for your convenience. Verbal discussion has thus ended. Good luck getting on the nice list, everyone! Meeting adjourned .” Giggling somewhat maniacally—er, I mean, wholesomely and adorably—Brian pulls a page from Liam’s book and says, “Now get back to work.”

So, we all do.

I love working here. This is incredible.

I can’t imagine what the Countdown to Valentine event looked like with activities every day.

This Christmas in July list is already bursting with excitement, and it’s not even daily events since everyone will be busy on Love Letters to Christmas as Santa’s little elves.

The ability to establish ourselves on the nice list through completing tasks based on our department or assisting other departments with entry-level requests once we’ve finished all our own work each day is the best idea since self-adhesive stamps.

It’s the perfect way to usher in the true meaning of Christmas and cultivate a loving, kind environment.

I don’t know how long Brian’s been working on this in order to manage putting together such a beautiful website, but it sure is effective, sleek, and fun, full of emojis and the ability to personalize the user interface.

Checking boxes and getting points is a system that results in many happy brain chemicals for sure.

I’m obsessed with the genius, the commitment, the sincere faithfulness to spreading joy among his coworkers.

It’s just so… Brian .

Finishing up my task of cleaning out all the mail sorting boxes, I find my way back to my computer and check a box that gives me points and plays a Christmas-themed firework animation.

Giggling, I check the other available tasks in my department, only to discover that Brian and I run a very economical mailroom. We’re caught up. Substantially so.

But of course we are.

We pride ourselves in a prompt, tidy process, as mail deserves.

Unfortunately, we have no more points to get until after lunch when today’s mail comes.

“Hm…” I click on the list of tasks available in other departments to see what I can help with. Something appears at the top. Urgent. All caps. All red.

FRANK NEEDS A COFFEE. PLEASE. SOMEONE. ANYONE. brING FRANK A COFFEE.

Giggling, I contemplate whether or not it was a good idea for Brian to let department heads add tasks…

but…well…at least he knew better than to allow them to give any added task more than a single point.

I have a feeling without that limitation, Frank would have accredited a million points to coffee and rocketed anyone who fulfilled it onto the nice list forever.

I accept the task and stand, heading toward the elevator.

“A-mail-ia?” Brian calls from his office.

I straighten, turning to find him looking past his computer at me. “Yes?”

“Where are you going?” he asks.

I beam. “I accepted a helping task! I’m going to get Frank a coffee.”

Brian’s lips tilt. “Oh, Frank. Already abusing the system. It took her all of a single hour… That’s practically a record.” With a sigh, he says, “Be safe.”

“I will!” For absolutely no logical reason at all, I salute, then I spin on my heels and head up to the nearest breakroom so I can make Frank a coffee and earn my nice list points…

After all, I love a good ruse and a feeble attempt to distract myself from the fact I woke up this morning with New Month, New Me energy.

The crazy first-of-the-month vibes compelled me to shove my secret admirer love letter in my dress skirt pocket and concoct a plan to get a PO box on my lunch break while I brushed my teeth.

Regardless that it’s July 1st, I am still the same old Amelia Christmas, perpetually basking in Brian Single’s whimsy and seeking validation from anything that might spare me a moment’s consideration.

Even if that anything is a program on a computer claiming that my efforts result in admittance to a nice list.

Let’s just say that if the Amelia Christmas of yesterday would still do anything for a fireworks animation, then really nothing about me has changed at all.