Kelly Jamieson: All I Want for Christmas

He sighed as he sat down behind his desk. It was crazy, chasing around after the hot little HR advisor. She'd been working there for a year now but, over the last few months, his obsession with her had grown to almost uncontrollable levels. It was getting scary. Soon he was going to do something to embarrass himself.

Why didn't he just ask her out? It's not as if he were her boss or anything. He knew they had some things in common. In the summer they'd both played for the company baseball team, and this year they'd both participated in the pool tournament held between departments. She'd almost kicked his butt at pool, the sexy little shark. He grinned.

Well, tomorrow night was another social event, another opportunity to flirt a bit, feel her up, oops, he meant feel her out , about whether she might be interested in going out with him.

It took Erin three trips to load all the door prizes from the cupboard in the staff room into the trunk of her car in the parking garage beneath their office building, riding up and down the elevator. On her last trip down, who should step into the elevator on the tenth floor but Dex Mitchell.

He eyed her arms laden with loot. “Need a hand?” he asked. He was holding a case that no doubt contained his computer, and he looked devastatingly handsome in a long black coat over his suit.

"Oh, that's okay,” she answered cheerfully, propping her loot against the elevator wall to take a bit of the weight. “This is my last trip. Door prizes for the party tomorrow night,” she explained.

She watched each floor light up as they rode down.

"At least let me help get those to your car,” Dex said. As the doors slid open, he moved closer and took some of the parcels from her. Awkwardly, they transferred bags and boxes from her arms to his without dropping anything—thank you, God!—and he followed her into the parking garage.

After loading them into her trunk, she slammed the lid and stood there. Dex looked down at her and smiled. “You've put a lot of work into this party, haven't you?"

She smiled a bit. “Well, yes, but I've had help. There is a whole committee working on it."

"I overheard you earlier talking to Cheryl and Kayla, and it sounds as if you're doing everything."

She gulped. He'd been in the office when they'd been talking to her? “Well, everybody's really busy at this time of year,” she started to explain.

"Well, it is appreciated,” he told her warmly.

God, those eyes, those golden-brown eyes that sparkled with intelligence and humor. Thick dark lashes framed his eyes beneath straight brows and, when he smiled, dimples appeared in each cheek. That was really so unfair. He was a finance guy, a boring number cruncher. Why did he have to look so good?

She smiled back at him. “Thanks. Christmas comes but once a year!"

"Yeah. Well, again, I'll see you tomorrow. At the party."

She nodded and stood there, jingling her car keys in her gloved hands as he strode away toward his own vehicle.

Bemused, she got into her car and headed first to the hotel. She dropped the gifts off, knowing she'd be back the next afternoon with her crew to decorate. The hotel had a lunch function going on there that day so they couldn't get in to decorate until three o'clock, which was cutting it tight. She'd given up on the idea of having her hair done.

Then she drove to the liquor store. After wandering around the store trying to decide what everyone would like, she finally admitted defeat and bought a case of wine. Everyone would get the same thing and ... oh, well.

Wine in her trunk, next stop was the mall.

(To the tune of “Deck The Halls")

Wreck the Malls this Christmas Season

Fa la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la;

Blow your cash for no good reason

Fa la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la;

(Refrain)

Push your charge card to the limit;

Fa la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la;

Your checkbook now has nothing in it.

Fa la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.

She had to park on the far edge of the parking lot because there were so many cars there. She was so far from the mall door she needed a ride. She sighed as she trudged through lightly falling snow into the mall, another Christmas wonderland of decorations and music. It was a zoo in there, kids crying, mothers frustrated, shoppers bashing into each other with shopping bags, and a long line waiting to see Santa.

She stopped momentarily to watch two children have their picture taken with Santa. All dressed in red velvet and white lace, their blonde hair in curls, they made such a pretty picture and, as they hopped down from Santa's lap with a candy cane in hand, they chorused, “Thank you, Santa!” so politely. Erin smiled, something in her chest feeling warm and soft. Then she watched as one of Santa's elves placed a chubby baby on Santa's lap, who proceeded to scrunch up his face and scream in terror. She laughed and continued on her way.

It was hot in the mall, even though her long coat was open, and it wasn't long before she was sweating, frustrated and hungry. Swiping limp strands of hair off her face, she stared at a rack of dolls. These were the latest, trendiest doll that her two nieces absolutely had to have, the ones that she'd ordered weeks ago on the Internet and were now lost in cyberspace. She sighed and grabbed two of them from the rapidly dwindling stock. She handed over her credit card at the checkout, biting her lip as she thought about the already inflated balance.

Now she had to find something for her parents, sisters and their husbands. Yikes. Maybe she should just tell them their gifts didn't arrive and she'd give them to them in the new year. But she just couldn't bear the thought of not having something for them on Christmas Eve when her family traditionally exchanged gifts.

She'd found perfect gifts on eBay—rare piece of the pottery that her mother collected and a special book about photography for which her father had been searching. She'd ordered dishes from a specialty supplier for her sister Anna and brother-in-law, part of their hard-to-find (and so expensive) set, and a sculpture by an up-and-coming artist that her other sister, Jillian, loved. She would never find anything so perfect, and she'd already spent a fortune.

Chocolates. She had to buy chocolates to go with the wine for the HR staff. She stopped in front of the little shop that specialized in gourmet Belgian chocolate. It was packed in there, so full you could barely squeeze another person in. Again, she blew out a long breath, wondering what kind of selection would be left.

As she stood there, debating whether to forge on in or find something to eat and try back later on the off chance it would be less busy, Dex Mitchell emerged from the store.

Dex looked surprised to see her. “Well, hi!” He stopped in front of her. “Doing some last minute shopping, too?"

She surveyed the bundle of elegantly wrapped boxes in his arms, done up in gold paper and gold and white ribbons. He, too, looked elegant, still dressed in his suit and long black overcoat, the satiny tie impeccable and not a hair out of place. Unlike her, with her lank hair, face probably shiny with perspiration, and no lipstick left on her lips.

"Yes,” she sighed. “All my shopping is last minute this year."

"Oh.” He lifted a brow. “You sound discouraged."

She forced a cheery smile. “'Tis the season.” She glanced into the store. “Do they have much left in there?"

"Not much,” he admitted, eyes gleaming. “I ordered these,” he indicated the boxes in his arms, “a month ago. I'm just picking them up."

"Ah. Very smart.” She nodded, wishing she'd done that, too. “Well, I'd better get in there before there's nothing left. Bye!"