Mission of Christmas by Candice Gilmer

Chapter One
    Wednesday (Eight Days Before Christmas)
    “Seriously, isn’t there enough holiday cheer around here? You all don’t have to invade my office.” My coworkers, decked out in their fancy Christmas finery—complete with Santa hats and jingly socks—spread out across my minuscule office like a plague of jingle bells.
    I should have been expecting this—it was a week before Christmas.
    I had to start locking my door.
    “Now Erica Jones, it’s the season!” Judy replied, grinning as she carried a huge poinsettia to the end table near the door. Judy was fifty if she was a day, but certainly more of a girlfriend-type than a motherly-type.
    Well, at least if I let her. Girlfriends tended to steal husbands and gossip. I didn’t have time for that nonsense.
    I had things to do.
    I rolled my eyes at Judy’s attempt in bringing seasonal cheer. “It’s a waste of décor for me.”
    “What are you, a Scrooge or something?” Judy’s partner in crime, Cindy Stone, asked as she hung a little green bell on my doorknob.
    I pushed away from my desk and crossed my arms. “I just hate Christmas.”
    Both women dropped their boxes with a screech of murdered jingle bells.
    “But why? It’s the most joyous time of the year!” Cindy stared at me like I had turned into the Grinch.
    “I just don’t like it.”
    With his usual perfect timing, Andrew Hawkins came through the door. He glanced at Cindy and Judy, then back at me.
    I knew that look too. He was about to pull out the charm.
    “Come on, ladies, not in here. Erica’s not a big fan of Christmas,” Andrew said, winking at me.
    Both Cindy and Judy went all moony at Andrew, even though Judy was a little old and Cindy was happily married.
    Really, though, who could blame them? He was tall, dark haired, broad shouldered, and endowed with a killer smile. He could charm himself into Queen Elizabeth’s pants.
    He hadn’t changed since he was six.
    He glanced at me, a look of, well, not sympathy exactly, but understanding of my position. “Erica’s family died on Christmas a few years ago,” he told the women.
    Which was true, sort of. They died in December, but I used it as an excuse to explain why I didn’t do Christmas. Hawkins understood Christmas had never been my happiest time of the year, even when my parents were alive.
    “Oh,” they replied in unison.
    “We’re sorry,” Judy said, her eyes filled with sympathy. “We didn’t know.”
    I waved them off. “It’s okay.”
    Cindy attempted to come over to give me a hug, but thought better of it—probably because of the look I shot her. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask,” she told me instead, and both she and Judy headed out the door, their decorations jingling all the way.
    Andrew watched them leave, then faced me. The charm face was gone, replaced by the same kid who used to dig for worms while we waited for the bus. “You okay?”
    “Fine.” At the door, the poinsettia still sat. “They forgot the plant.”
    Andrew shrugged it off. “You should have some color in here.”
    “Aren’t those things toxic?”
    “You’re not going to die from a single poinsettia.”
    “Might make the holidays more bearable.” I shifted in my chair, getting back to work mode.
    He shook his head. “Seriously, Erica. Don’t you think you should at least try to enjoy the season? I know you never liked it.”
    I held my hand up. “Stop right there, Hawkins. Do you have some official capacity to be here, or are you going to torment me about the office holiday party again?”
    “Well, since I don’t have a death wish, I thought I’d bring you more work.”
    Andrew worked in the sales department of Inventive Proposals. I was a graphic artist with the company, and I pretty much made him look good.
    Something not new to me—I’d been making him look good since the first grade. He used to copy my tests and “borrow” my homework. Now, he just schmoozed the clients and presented the designs I