Tinsel In A Tangle Read online

  Tinsel In A Tangle

  Ainslie Paton

  www.escapepublishing.com.au

  Tinsel In A Tangle

  Ainslie Paton

  A Christmas story that packs a punch…

  It’s Shelby Yule’s job to make sure the office Christmas party is a success. That means making sure there are no dodgy Kris Kringle presents, no one gets too sloshed, and definitely no dance floor injuries. Never did she think she’d have to worry about the shy new guy, her inappropriate crush, starting a fight.

  Adam Tide can’t help it if his job as the lead coder means he has a better relationship with his project management software than his human colleagues, but that doesn’t mean he is unaware of Felix, head of HR, and the way he treats Shelby. Adam has suffered a whole twelve months of Felix being a dick and treating Shelby like a personal slave, and after one over-warm beer he just can’t take it anymore.

  Decking Felix lands Adam in the Emergency Room, and likely the unemployment line, but since Shelby’s New Year’s resolution is to go after what she wants most, there might still be a chance this season will be jolly.

  About the author

  AINSLIE PATON always wanted to write stories to make people smile, but the need to eat, accumulate books, and have bedclothes to read under was ever present. She sold out, and worked as a flack, a suit, and a creative, ghosting for business leaders, rebel rousers and politicians, and making words happen for companies, governments, causes, conditions, high-profile CEOs, low-profile celebs, and the occasional misguided royal.

  She still does that. She also writes for love and so she can buy shoes and the good cat food. More here: ainsliepaton.com.au and on Twitter @AinsliePaton.

  Dedication

  For women everywhere who strategise, negotiate, shop, make, clean, cook, solve and hustle to put the merry in Christmas and the happy in New Year.

  Contents

  About the Author

  Dedication

  Adam: Now

  Shelby: Now

  Adam: Before

  Shelby: Before

  Shelby: Now

  Adam: Now

  Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing...

  Adam: Now

  The only jingle bells Adam heard were the ones ringing in his ears.

  That was a relief after suffering through Bing, Frank, Elvis, Madonna, and Mariah—even if it was a sign of concussion.

  It could be concussion. The nurse said he wasn’t allowed to leave casualty until someone saw to him, and that meant waiting until the muttering drunk guy, the Santa with a buggered knee, the woman wearing reindeer antlers, and the two little kids in candy cane PJs had been attended to.

  It could be a long night.

  It hurt to open his right eye and his left eye was swollen closed. His neck felt like a sumo wrestler had been trampolining on it, and there was blood all over his shirt. His brow might need stitching. His hands weren’t shaking to look at, but deep inside the bones were clattering together like knives in a shaken cutlery drawer.

  He’d never gotten into a physical fight before. He wasn’t made that way. Books over brawling; movies before mauling, almost anything before being aggressive. Even assertive was sometimes too flagrant an attitude. It was no surprise he got on better with his workflow software than he did with his office mates, but tonight he’d discovered his tolerance had a limit, and he’d tripped over it with twelve months of aggravation stored up in his fists.

  Felix might look like he was made of thick crust pizza dough, but he punched like a character in Sniper Elite 4. That’s why Adam’s arse was sore. He’d hit the floor so hard he’d bounced, but he hadn’t stayed there. He didn’t like the view, Felix standing over him like he bloody owned the place and everyone in it. Also legs, a lot of legs, a lot of bare legs in tall heels and short party dresses providing quite the unlooked for opportunity for up-skirting, had that been a thing he’d ever thought about doing.

  Odd that he thought about it now. That’s how radically out of order this situation was. He really should be focused on whether he had enough money for an Uber ride home, and what the hell he was he was going to do Monday morning when they gave him the flick.

  Felt like he’d gone thirty rounds with Felix while Mariah sang about what she wanted for Christmas. Probably only lasted thirty seconds. Mariah was warbling youooooo when he’d put Felix down.

  And Felix had stayed there.

  Man, they sure knew how to throw a wowzer of a year-end party at LuxLife. Shame Adam’s first would be his last. They could forgive Karaoke mic hogging, bum photocopying, those beef jerky edible undies and sex toys in the Kris Kringle, but Adam was pretty sure decking the head of HR was a sackable offence.

  Things were already grim, and then the only person in the company he’d rather lose a limb for than disappoint walked in to St Vincent’s.

  There could only be one reason for her to be here. His Christmas present was going to come with unemployment benefits, like not being able to pay his rent.

  Shelby left a space between them and sat in the next orange plastic bucket seat in the connected row. She still wore holly in her hair and Christmas tree earrings, and she smelled like spice and vanilla, a human version of a delicious warm pudding. A reminder of good things year-round.

  He tried to straighten up, but he’d been here over an hour already and he was moulded to the chair and everything hurt, but nothing more than the pinched concern on Shelby’s face. He kept his own face averted and tried to focus on the blue and silver twists of tinsel strung along the opposite wall and the assorted non-farm animals in the nativity scene. There was a T-Rex, a Porg and a Groot watching over a Lego baby Jesus.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

  He didn’t have to wait till Monday. He was going to get sacked in the casualty department of St Vincent’s hospital at 10.00pm a week before Christmas, while wondering if it was his wonky eyes and concussed brain or was Joseph really a Mr. Spock doll?

  This sucked mightily, and he hated Shelby seeing him this way, but he’d brought it on himself. Might was well get it over with. ‘You didn’t have to come.’

  ‘Someone had to check on you.’

  ‘Not you.’ Urgh, said that aloud, really, really didn’t mean to, especially while sounding shitty when contrite was more fitting. None of this was Shelby’s fault.

  ‘Why not me?’ she said.

  Because she was going to ask why he’d hit Felix and he’d have to lie because the reason would make no sense to her and that would make this whole wrong episode of decking the halls even more pointless than it already was. ‘I’d have thought someone, you know, on the executive team would need to do it.’

  ‘Well, it would’ve been Felix, but he’s somewhat incapacitated at the moment due to excessive Christmas cheer.’

  That was a strange way of putting it. He’d half expected Felix to arrive at St Vincent’s too. ‘Is he all right?’ The guy had dropped, out cold.

  ‘He’ll have a black eye and a headache but he’s fine. No stitches required.’

  Adam rocked forward and peered at the ground. It was a relief to hear Felix was okay. He could swear his tailbone creaked right before two fat ruby drops of blood fell to the puke coloured flooring between his feet. He straightened up again and used the gingerbread men tea towel he’d swiped from the kitchen to mop his head.

  He was a triple threat: assault, battery and theft. Ho, ho, ho.

  He should look at Shelby, but he didn’t think he was strong enough to take her disappointment even if he only had one working eye to see it with. He smudged the blood droplets with his foot. ‘Might as well get on with it then.’

  ‘Do you need anything? Can I call someone for you?’

  She could
n’t be kind. He didn’t want her to be kind. She was always kind and fair and sensible. Always had a smile, always made you feel better. A sweetheart, everyone said so. He never had though. Never had the guts to openly admit how much he liked her for her sweetness and her strength. If she was kind now, then fuck, it might be tears hitting the floor next. He’d rather lose another fight than blubber in front of Shelby.

  But then, he’d rather blubber than never see her again and that’s what was going to happen.

  It was better if she just got it over with, cold, professional, efficient. He’d seen her be that way on deserving occasions, so he knew she had it in her. It was part of her all over awesomeness.

  ‘You know I don’t have family here,’ he said. They were all in sunny Queensland and most of them could stay there as far as he was concerned.

  ‘Your roommate?’

  Okay, so cold wasn’t a temperature setting Shelby used often, but she could try harder to twist that dial for the sake of his mental health and wellbeing. ‘In Bali.’

  ‘I know you’ll have made other friends since you moved to Sydney.’

  No one he wanted to call right now. Bad enough he’d come off the worst. The final humiliation of ending up jobless as well as beaten up in the freaking festive season was much better contemplated as a solo pursuit like picking your nose or squeezing pus from a boil. He risked looking at her directly. ‘I’m fine.’ As long as you quit being kind. Bah-humbug.

  ‘I’ll stay with you until they—’ Her eyes went wide. ‘Oh Adam, your face is all—and your hand, are you hurt anywhere else?’

  He attempted a laugh because he couldn’t take the shock in her voice or the way her forehead crumpled, her lips turned down and her eyes got glassy. ‘Only my pride. You don’t have to stay.’

  ‘Of course, I do.’

  He didn’t have anything to say to that. It was probably in her job description, part of the LuxLife HR manual. When an employee of Australia’s favourite online luxury goods retailer is injured, even if it’s their own phenomenally moronic fault, first sit with the dickhead before you sack him. This ensures the jerkface’s mortification is complete.

  His body got heavier with defeat like there was a squad of sumo sitting on him. But Shelby didn’t leave. He couldn’t brood her out, no matter how hard he doubled down on his misery because she was tenacious. Right now he didn’t love that about her.

  For a time they sat silently while the two kids sniffled and poked at each other, their hassled mum tried to peace-keep, Santa played a noisy game on his phone, and the drunk guy muttered to himself.

  Adam had lost more than his job tonight. He’d lost any chance he ever had with Shelby. If he’d ever had a chance that is. Women like Shelby who knew who they were and what they wanted in life didn’t look twice at men who went at it like a bumper car that never won a race: stop, start, reverse, stall, cause an accident, crash.

  When he couldn’t stand it any longer he said, ‘You don’t have to wait to do it.’

  She wore red shoes with candy cane striped heels. She had earrings for every holiday and major event. Flags for Australia Day, hearts for Valentine’s Day, rabbits for Easter, crowns for the Queen’s birthday, popcorn for Eurovision and little sparkly jockey’s caps for Melbourne Cup. She had encouragement for everyone, and none of the LuxLife crew liked making her unhappy.

  Just by being interested in you, Shelby made you want to be a better LuxLife employee, but more than that—a better person. It was her special magic. She was part beloved team mascot brought to life for the exclusive benefit of cheering you on, and part walking advice column who knew how to help you succeed.

  ‘Do what?’ she said, her stripy heels lifting as if he’d suggested an exciting solution to a nagging problem.

  ‘Sack me.’

  Her heels went down, slowly, one at a time. Click, click, like a key turning in the lock that would define his immediately bleak future. ‘Why don’t we get you stitched up and home safe and we can talk about that later.’

  Adam closed his eyes. ‘I decked your boss.’

  ‘And he decked you.’

  ‘I started it.’ There was no way Felix was the one looking for a new job in January.

  ‘Why? I mean I’m all for exciting, memorable Christmas parties, but I like to plan the entertainment in advance and this was, well, out of the blue.’

  Not for Adam. For him, it had been too long coming and the acid shame he felt eating the lining of his stomach wasn’t because he’d inappropriately initiated a merry old smackdown in the middle of all the peace and goodwill on earth, but because it had taken him all year to do it. He’d had enough evidence Felix was treating Shelby badly when she wore the hearts in her ears and by the time she wore the crowns he’d have pledged his life for her if she’d asked.

  Shelby had never asked him anything more personal than ‘how was your weekend?’ and ‘are you going home for Christmas?’, and it wasn’t like telling her how he felt now was going to save his job. If he told her the truth, it would only make her feel worse.

  She angled the toes of her shoes his way. ‘You’re going to have to tell someone.’

  ‘Not if I’m sacked. It won’t matter.’

  ‘Worry about feeling better first.’

  He met her two chocolate eyes with his one squinty one. ‘It’s okay, Shelby, you can hit a man when he’s down. I know the truth anyway. I know violence is never acceptable and I deserve the consequences, because right now I’m not sorry and I’d do it again.’

  She shook her head and her Christmas trees bounced. ‘I didn’t come here to sack you.’

  He passed a hand over his eyes. Maybe he was seeing things and his hearing was wonky. Not here to sack him? He had to be hallucinating, because if Shelby was here for any other reason, this was a deck the halls with boughs of holly goddamn Christmas miracle.

  Shelby: Now

  Shelby sat in the uncomfortable plastic seat in the casualty department of St Vincent’s with her heart lodged in her throat. It had jumped up there and gotten stuck when she’d seen the damage to Adam’s face. At least she was in the right place to have a major organ displacement emergency.

  ‘I told you, I came to see if you’re okay,’ she said, squeezing her hands together to stop from reaching out to comfort him.

  Adam broke eye-contact and dropped his chin to his chest. ‘You don’t have to stay.’

  She sure wasn’t leaving. He looked terrible, the split brow, the purple bruised forehead, one eye totally closed, blood all through his hair. One of his hands was swollen and the knuckles were all torn, and the custard on the pudding was the cold vibe he was giving off. That’s what had made her sit a little apart from him when what she’d wanted to do was put her arms around him and hug the hurt out.

  He was the last person she expected to become violent. It was easier to imagine December Chen from customer service smiling and asking if you had a good weekend while stabbing you with a freshly sharpened pencil, or Rudy Christakis from billing trying to get you drunk on Christmas punch so you’d forget he still hadn’t done the ‘bullying in the workplace’ training than it was to imagine Adam taking Felix, who was twice his bulk, down for no reason she could think of.

  It was horrifying and amazing all at once. And it was messing with her head.

  Adam was the man who noticed your water jug was empty and made it his mission to fill it for you, daily. He was the man who quietly worked back if he discovered you were the last person in the office because he didn’t want you to have to be alone at night, even though your desks were nowhere near each other.

  He was the man she’d developed a hopelessly inappropriate unrequited crush on that she’d resolved to act on in the smallest, and most easily discounted way tonight, by inviting him to her orphan’s Christmas lunch.

  That was before he decked Felix.

  Now she was a mixed drink and uncertain about the taste. Was there too much of a kick in Adam’s personality she’d failed to see?
She had a habit of being too forgiving, and ending up disappointed. It was her kind of tipsy.

  ‘I’m staying.’ She didn’t have to, this was beyond her job description and the only person who could decide what happened next was their CEO, Stella. Since her flight got delayed and she’d missed the party, Stella didn’t know it had ended in black eyes and broken skin yet. It was hard to imagine that once she did, things wouldn’t get worse for Adam.

  He gave a full body sigh and that didn’t help with her desire to hug him one bit. Meanwhile she needed answers. What would make Adam resort to fists? Maybe she’d just been too caught up in Christmas party planning to see trouble on the timeline.

  In Shelby’s experience, there were two types of office Christmas parties: the ones where people got sloshed, flirted too obviously, forgot themselves and did regrettable things behind potted palms, and the ones where only half the people show up, the catering is awful, everyone stands around wearing stupid hats and strained smiles, laughing at terrible dad jokes, and desperately hoping for someone to do something shocking before they made an excuse to leave early.

  HR managers were supposed to make sure companies had their end of year celebrations without offending anyone, breaking anything, or getting sued, which was seasonal insanity when you consider all anyone wanted to do at a work party where there was free booze and food was act like they weren’t at work. For some people that meant acting like they were at a rave or in an episode of Romper Stomper.

  Over the years she’d done her best to encourage party committees to avoid fancy dress—someone always wore too little and showed too much; Secret Santa with a dubious theme—the least suitable person always got a sex toy; booze cruises—the horror; curiosities like topless waiters—just, no; ice sculptures—what were they thinking, it was always stinking hot; and hiring Gabe in legal’s cover band. An idea only ever pushed by Gabe.