door of my parents’ house, whispering and cooing to each other. Disgusting.
“Where’s my phone?” I hold my hand out, interrupting their sweet nothings. I can’t believe I agreed to go without it in order to be an authentic elf.
“Dad? What’s the day’s tally?” Lacy wrenches a briefcase from Brandon’s shoulder to get my phone. “Did the kissing booth raise more money than the pet rescue?”
“Of course you did, sweet lips.” My father kisses her on the cheek.
“Don’t forget to thank Brandon, too,” she says, then slips a glance at me. “Don’t worry, sis. There’s always next year. Now you’re going makeup shopping with me since you lost the bet.”
“I don’t have time.” I take my phone from her and wake it up. It’s full of messages and missed calls. Dammit. The build’s broken and they can’t find Samantha, one of the new software engineers I hired. “I have to go back to work. See you all later.”
“Wait, your lawyer’s here.” Mom drags me to the living room and addresses the chubby man sitting on the couch. “Oh, hello there, Mr. Williams, thanks for dropping by. Can I get you anything to drink? Ice tea? Orange juice? Coffee?”
“Milk.” Owen grins as he spots me. “I’m a milk man—got a thing for milk, you know.”
Ugh. I don’t like him already. Not only is he sweating like a pig, his face is bright red like he’s been drinking and his blue eyes bulge under his receding hairline.
He sticks out his beefy paw to shake. “Nice t-shirt. I know the chairwoman of the board at Shopahol.”
“Y-you do?” I’m stunned as his eyes stay on my face. I’d thought the t-shirt line was a segue into commenting on my chest.
“Yep.” He sets his briefcase on the floor and grabs his lapels, beaming proudly. “She’s one of my oldest friends. I hear she’s your boss.”
“You heard right. My company’s doing a joint venture with Shopahol, and I’m under her direct supervision.”
“You like her?”
“Oh, heck ya. She’s the best.”
We’re talking about Jen Jones Jewell, the former build engineer of Shopahol who rose to become chairwoman of the board, as well as wife to the CEO, Dave Jewell. Sigh. They’re the San Francisco Bay Area’s perfect power couple.
“Great, let’s get started with your defense. Has Jen ever told you what messes I got her out of?” Owen accepts a glass of milk from my mother.
“No, never.” I swallow hard and sit across from him. I’d heard about Jen and her unsavory past, and I suppose I could dig further, but frankly, she’s my heroine and I don’t believe everything I read online.
“Well, then, it’s covered by attorney-client privilege.” He tilts his head back and gulps the entire eight-ounce glass of milk, his throat wobbling with each swallow.
How can this bumbling bozo be my lawyer? I have no time for his antics, so I get to the point.
“I’m needed at work. Tell me how you’re going to get the charges dropped.”
Owen wipes his puffy lips with the back of his wrist and grins. “I’ve always said the best defense is a good offense.”
So do three million other people, but I’ll let it pass. I glance at my watch. “Do whatever’s necessary. Mom said you needed my version of the story. Can I send you an email?”
“No, I’d rather hear it from the horse’s lips.”
“I’m not a horse.”
“Oh, sorry, the mare’s lips then,” he says in all seriousness as he flips his notepad out.
My phone buzzes with an incoming call from Mrs. Jewell.
“Sorry, I really have to take this,” I say, swiping the screen. “It’s the boss lady.”
Owen grabs the phone from me and cups it to his ear. How the heck does this pudgy guy have such quick hands?
“Jen, it’s me, Owen. No, no, no, you don’t have the wrong number. Hey, I know you guys have a fire at the datacenter. Ha, ha, just kidding, but I need Brittney right now. You’ve heard? No worries. Damage control here. I’m throwing sexual
“Where’s my phone?” I hold my hand out, interrupting their sweet nothings. I can’t believe I agreed to go without it in order to be an authentic elf.
“Dad? What’s the day’s tally?” Lacy wrenches a briefcase from Brandon’s shoulder to get my phone. “Did the kissing booth raise more money than the pet rescue?”
“Of course you did, sweet lips.” My father kisses her on the cheek.
“Don’t forget to thank Brandon, too,” she says, then slips a glance at me. “Don’t worry, sis. There’s always next year. Now you’re going makeup shopping with me since you lost the bet.”
“I don’t have time.” I take my phone from her and wake it up. It’s full of messages and missed calls. Dammit. The build’s broken and they can’t find Samantha, one of the new software engineers I hired. “I have to go back to work. See you all later.”
“Wait, your lawyer’s here.” Mom drags me to the living room and addresses the chubby man sitting on the couch. “Oh, hello there, Mr. Williams, thanks for dropping by. Can I get you anything to drink? Ice tea? Orange juice? Coffee?”
“Milk.” Owen grins as he spots me. “I’m a milk man—got a thing for milk, you know.”
Ugh. I don’t like him already. Not only is he sweating like a pig, his face is bright red like he’s been drinking and his blue eyes bulge under his receding hairline.
He sticks out his beefy paw to shake. “Nice t-shirt. I know the chairwoman of the board at Shopahol.”
“Y-you do?” I’m stunned as his eyes stay on my face. I’d thought the t-shirt line was a segue into commenting on my chest.
“Yep.” He sets his briefcase on the floor and grabs his lapels, beaming proudly. “She’s one of my oldest friends. I hear she’s your boss.”
“You heard right. My company’s doing a joint venture with Shopahol, and I’m under her direct supervision.”
“You like her?”
“Oh, heck ya. She’s the best.”
We’re talking about Jen Jones Jewell, the former build engineer of Shopahol who rose to become chairwoman of the board, as well as wife to the CEO, Dave Jewell. Sigh. They’re the San Francisco Bay Area’s perfect power couple.
“Great, let’s get started with your defense. Has Jen ever told you what messes I got her out of?” Owen accepts a glass of milk from my mother.
“No, never.” I swallow hard and sit across from him. I’d heard about Jen and her unsavory past, and I suppose I could dig further, but frankly, she’s my heroine and I don’t believe everything I read online.
“Well, then, it’s covered by attorney-client privilege.” He tilts his head back and gulps the entire eight-ounce glass of milk, his throat wobbling with each swallow.
How can this bumbling bozo be my lawyer? I have no time for his antics, so I get to the point.
“I’m needed at work. Tell me how you’re going to get the charges dropped.”
Owen wipes his puffy lips with the back of his wrist and grins. “I’ve always said the best defense is a good offense.”
So do three million other people, but I’ll let it pass. I glance at my watch. “Do whatever’s necessary. Mom said you needed my version of the story. Can I send you an email?”
“No, I’d rather hear it from the horse’s lips.”
“I’m not a horse.”
“Oh, sorry, the mare’s lips then,” he says in all seriousness as he flips his notepad out.
My phone buzzes with an incoming call from Mrs. Jewell.
“Sorry, I really have to take this,” I say, swiping the screen. “It’s the boss lady.”
Owen grabs the phone from me and cups it to his ear. How the heck does this pudgy guy have such quick hands?
“Jen, it’s me, Owen. No, no, no, you don’t have the wrong number. Hey, I know you guys have a fire at the datacenter. Ha, ha, just kidding, but I need Brittney right now. You’ve heard? No worries. Damage control here. I’m throwing sexual
Similar Books
