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Holiday: Annihilate Them, #2 Page 2


  He looked at me in the rearview mirror with determination in his eyes. “I’m sure as hell not taking Lisa back to Nebraska like I did last year,” he said. “That was a disaster. This year, we’re staying here.”

  “Oh good. Would you two care to share Christmas eve and Christmas day with us?”

  “I can ask Lisa, but I already know the answer—of course we would. But if you go to too much effort, Jennifer, it might not be good for you and the baby. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “We’ll keep it small,” I said. “The other day, Madison told me that Brock had asked her to go home with him for the holidays to meet his parents, so they’re out. And with Cutter and Daniella currently on the outs, it will just be the original group unless Cutter decides to come around. So all I’m looking at is Lisa and you, Blackwell and Marcus, Daniella and Alexa, Alex and me, and possibly Cutter. Oh, and Kate and Ben—I’m going to invite them. That’s manageable. And everyone can pitch in if they want. Or not. Whatever makes everyone happy.”

  “I don’t think anything can make Daniella happy right now,” Alex said. “If you remember, Cutter’s the one who needed the time off. Daniella was pushing him too much. She kept urging him to get an apartment together, which he isn’t ready for. He thinks that she’s moving too fast.”

  “I know,” I sighed. “I also know how difficult Daniella is being right now—Blackwell’s told me the whole ugly story. But we’ve all handled Daniella when she’s like this before. And with that kind of ground training, we certainly can handle her now.”

  “Jennifer, just a week ago, the man Daniella loves asked for a break. Daniella’s a mess because of it. Everyone knows it. And we also know how she’ll be if things aren’t patched up between them beforehand.”

  “He just needs some time and space to figure things out. They’ll be OK.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because when he looks at her, I see love in his eyes, Alex. I know that look. Every day, I see it when you look at me. Beyond that, the holidays are a powerful time of year. In fact, it was just last Christmas when Daniella and Cutter decided to start dating, which will make this season especially nostalgic for both of them. Three weeks is a long time for Cutter to decide what he wants. I’m betting that he’ll cool off and come to his senses before the holidays.”

  Tank looked at me in the rearview mirror. “Jennifer, you do realize that the moment you mention this party to Blackwell she’s going to want to take over, don’t you? Even if Alex and you are the ones who are officially hosting.”

  “Let her,” I said. “Because whatever Blackwell touches generally turns to gold. And if she doesn’t want to be involved—which I hardly expect of her—I’ll make the necessary phone calls to hire the lot of it out. Because I’m with Alex on this—at this point in my pregnancy, I’m not going to be in any shape to do anything more than fart, smile, and eat.”

  “Jennifer...” Alex said.

  “Please,” I said. “As if Tank hasn’t caught some godawful whiffs from me over the past few months.” I leaned forward and put my hand on Tank’s shoulder. “The sympathy card will be in the mail by week’s end—I promise.”

  “That will be unnecessary.”

  “I’m still going to send one, if only for the joke. ‘Dear Tank—no need to thank me for keeping the limo filled with gas. It was all on me.’”

  “Jesus,” Alex said with a smile.

  “So, what do you say, Tank? Will you and Lisa spend the holidays with us?”

  “For me, it’s an absolute yes. For Lisa, I already know that it’s a yes. But just to be safe, let me call her later, and I’ll get back to you ASAP on that. OK?”

  “Do that,” I said. “Because I already know what my girl is going to say. This is such a done deal, I can’t stand it!”

  “I SHOULD SEE BLACKWELL,” I said to Alex when we stepped into one of the elevators with a group of others. “You know—to get things into motion.”

  We moved to the rear, and Alex put his arm around my waist.

  “Are you sure about this?” he said in a quiet voice.

  Whenever we were surrounded by our employees, we tried to be as discreet as possible.

  “I am,” I said. “Before I deliver, I want a proper send-off. I want to be surrounded by the people I love most, and this is the right time to do it.”

  “Then let it be,” he said. “Provided that everything will be catered. I don’t want you doing anything.”

  “Except helping you with the tree.”

  “That should be OK,” he said. “We’ll make a night of it.”

  “Done and done. But I will say this—we need to lock down the right caterers now, because the holidays are approaching fast.”

  “How about this? You go and see Blackwell, and I’ll ask Ann to start setting everything up?”

  “I hadn’t thought about Ann helping out—she’s so well-connected in this city, she’ll know exactly whom to call. That’s a great idea.”

  “Good. Then you see Blackwell, and I’ll speak with Ann. Hopefully by the end of the day, we’ll have this sewn up.”

  Although I knew our employees were watching, I still gave Alex a chaste kiss.

  “Thanks for doing this for me.”

  “I know you love the holidays. Of course I’d do this for you—with provisions.”

  “Which we’ve covered.”

  “I love you, Jennifer.”

  I placed his hand on my stomach and smiled at him. “Before either of us knows it, you’re going to be in love with someone else.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  AFTER ALEX GOT OFF on the forty-seventh floor where we had our offices, I took the elevator to the fifty-first floor, where Barbara Blackwell—senior vice president of human resources for Wenn Enterprises and one of my closest friends and mentors—had her office.

  As I walked down the long hallway that led into a large open space surrounded by other offices, I noticed that Blackwell’s door was closed—and that raised voices were emanating from inside.

  Puzzled, I stopped to listen. Was she reprimanding someone? Or was she on the phone arguing with Daniella or Alexa? Whatever she was doing, I didn’t plan to listen because none of this was my business.

  Until I recognized Lisa’s voice—and then the game changed.

  “She’s my best friend!” I heard Lisa say.

  “She considers me to be the mother she never had!” Blackwell said.

  “That might be so, Barbara, but you don’t have the relationship that I have with Jennifer. And you never will.”

  “Lies!”

  “It’s the truth, if only because we’ve been best friends for twenty-five years. And because of that, you have absolutely no idea what she’d want for a baby shower.”

  “Please—how do you even know what she’d want?”

  “Because I grew up with her. When we were young, we used to talk about our dream weddings. Our hopes of having children. We also talked about the showers we’d throw for each other.”

  “But that was years ago—when both of you were living in abject poverty and had zero sense of style. Jennifer knows the finer things in life now. Obviously, her tastes have changed.”

  “Are you serious? Jennifer might have married into wealth, but that hasn’t changed who she is, and you know it. So does Alex—it’s what he loves most about her. And because of that, I know exactly what she wants. You don’t. You think she wants what you’d want—elegance, fancy food, little sandwiches with their crusts cut off, gilded gifts, and pretty flowers—but that’s not the Jennifer I know and love. She’d rather have something far more low key and real.”

  Why are they arguing? I thought as I listened. There should be no arguing when it comes to this...

  I knew that a baby shower would be railroading my way at some point soon, and while I thought for sure that Lisa and Blackwell would likely be the ones joining forces to throw it for me, I never thought for a moment that there would be any tension between
them. I just assumed that they’d collaborate together and have fun, which clearly wasn’t the case. And so I had to wonder—how long had this been going on? How long had they been discussing this for it reach this level of anger? I had no idea, but given their heated exchange, it was obvious that this moment had been building for awhile, because they never spoke to one another with such contempt before.

  As I started to move toward Blackwell’s office, I knew two things at once—Lisa had only come here this early because she probably felt pressured by something Blackwell had said to her, and because she was hoping that I’d show up to work late and avoid hearing any of this. Obviously, she felt that she needed to work this out with Blackwell face-to-face before either of them could move ahead.

  They’re going to tear each other apart over a damned baby shower? I need to intervene.

  And so I tapped on the door before I opened it. And when I did, Lisa whirled around and looked at me in surprise while Blackwell just rolled her eyes, popped an ice cube into her mouth, and crunched down on it as she stood behind her desk with her arms folded in fury.

  “As always, Jennifer, you have impeccable timing,” she said.

  “I was just coming to say hello, but I certainly didn’t expect this. I could hear you two all the way down the hall.”

  “In another five minutes, you probably could have heard us in Calcutta.”

  “Why are you arguing?” I asked. “I’m not going to play dumb—I know that this is about a baby shower. I just heard you shouting about it. But what’s to argue about? It’s a damned baby shower, for Christ’s sake.”

  “A damned baby shower?” Blackwell said.

  “Exactly!” Lisa said. “And even though I can’t believe I’m going to say this, I actually have to agree with what’s her name over there when it comes to throwing you a damned baby shower. You know who I’m referring to? The one I call Bertha the zombie in my books.”

  “My inspiration for that character lifts your books, girl,” Blackwell said.

  “Maybe it does, but I’m not one of your lackeys, lady.”

  “Please,” Blackwell said. “You couldn’t afford to be one of my lackeys.”

  “Oh, my God,” Lisa said. “You are so full of shit lately, I can’t stand it!”

  “Stop it,” I said. “What is wrong with you two? You don’t ever behave like this with each other. So cool it. I’m stressed out enough without having to worry about you two. Christ, this morning alone, I nearly farted Alex into a casket.”

  “You didn’t,” Blackwell said.

  “I did—and by the way? Welcome to my life! This pregnancy has literally been a gas. And now you two are going at it, which I won’t have. My stress level is high enough, which isn’t good for the baby. So please—tell me what’s going on between you two and let’s work this out.”

  When neither of them answered, my shoulders slumped, I leaned against the doorjamb, and I felt the tension rising between them in the deepening silence. First I turned to Lisa for an explanation, knowing that she’d be far more reasonable than Blackwell. But when I looked at Lisa—when I really looked at her—I knew at that moment that she’d come here dressed for a fight.

  For a woman who typically spent her days writing in her office in sweats and a T-shirt, she’d intentionally put on her armor so that Blackwell couldn’t undermine her. Lisa’s hair and makeup were spot-on, as was her chic winter-white overcoat cinched in at the waist. She had a red Birkin bag on her shoulder, red Chanel heels on her feet (an intentional dig at Blackwell), and diamonds on her ears. She was as elegant as she was angry.

  “Come on,” I said. “Talk to me.”

  “Barbara and I have very different opinions when it comes to your baby shower—which you weren’t even supposed to know about until Friday.”

  “What are your opinions?” I asked.

  “Bertha over there is treating this as if it should be held at the Ritz, which I know you don’t want because we’ve talked about this for years! You want something as low key as possible. Nothing big. Nothing fancy. Just a good time with your closest friends. But the ice-crunching harpy over there wants to hold it here at Wenn in its most elaborate and festooned conference room, which I saw a week ago. Do you realize that that when I first saw it, my voice literally echoed off the crystal chandeliers? Talk about intimacy. She wants to invite a shitload of people I know you don’t give a damn about—and how personal is that? It’s not! What she has in mind is a horror show!”

  “Please,” Blackwell said as she came around her desk and looked hard at Lisa. “What I have in mind isn’t for the person you used to know, but for the person Jennifer has become in the years since I’ve known her. Do you have any idea how many female executives, secretaries, managers, and personal assistants at Wenn Jennifer has befriended at this point? Of course you don’t, because you aren’t here every day, as I am. You know nothing about the kinds of relationships Jennifer has forged with these women day in and day out. In fact, all you think about each and every day is coming up with a whole host of rancid ways for your zombies to eat human beings.”

  “I need to sit down,” I said. “Because apparently, with such little time left before I deliver, I’m going to have to get involved in this.”

  “In your own baby shower?” Lisa said. “We can’t have that.”

  I wagged my finger at her. “You’re wrong. What I can’t have is this. So, here. Help me off with my coat, Lisa. Barbara, a chair would be nice.”

  “Are you blind?” she said to me. “There’s one right in front of you.”

  “Then get another chair for Lisa.”

  “I want no favors from that one,” Lisa said. “Believe me, I’m perfectly happy to stand.”

  “Then stand,” I said. “The coat?”

  She helped me out of it, I slumped into the chair opposite Blackwell’s desk and took a deep breath. “Let me tell each of you something—standing at this point is becoming more than a chore.”

  “Of course it is,” Blackwell said. “That’s something I certainly know since I’ve actually given birth to two children of my own, which is something your friend over there can’t say. Hell, after two years of being engaged to Tank, she can’t even set a date for their marriage.”

  “I’m not the only one in my relationship, lady—he also needs to figure out a date!”

  “Let’s just say that if that day should ever come, I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “If you’re even invited to it.”

  “Stop it,” I said. “Come on—enough. I get it—you both have different ideas, and to be fair, I see where each of you is coming from. Lisa, you’re right—when we were growing up and talking about getting married and having baby showers and children, something small and intimate was exactly what I wanted. Hell, it’s still what I want. But Blackwell has a point that can’t be ignored. Over the years, I’ve made many important relationships here at Wenn with women who would feel slighted if I shut them out of my baby shower, something I can’t do because I know that they’re genuinely excited about the baby, and it would hurt their feelings if they weren’t invited. Their enthusiasm and support are real.”

  “See,” Blackwell said.

  “I’m talking now, Barbara,” I said. “Stop stirring the pot. Stop interjecting. And stop trying to goad my best friend.”

  “Well!” she said.

  “Well my ass. The truth of the matter is that my life has changed. Nobody can argue with that. And guess what? My life also has become political. Lisa, think of how many people I would piss off if I didn’t include them after knowing them for so long. Wenn has become my second family.”

  “I can’t believe that you’re taking her side on this,” she said.

  “I’m not taking her side. I’m just trying to do what’s right for everyone involved, which is what I always try to do. You know that about me. You also know me well enough to know that none of this is personal between you and me. When you and I talk everyday, I don’t talk abou
t my day-to-day life here at Wenn because, frankly, I’d rather talk about other things—like the men in our lives, what we did that day, when we’re going to get together for lunch again. But you need to understand that my daily life does include a lot of women I’ve befriended here at Wenn, many of whom sent me personal, heartfelt emails when my miscarriage became public information. Those women are rooting for Alex and me right now. So tell me this—how can I ignore them now when they’ve been so kind and supportive in the past? I can’t. You know that I can’t. And to be honest with you, I don’t want to. If I’m going to have a baby shower, I want it to be as inclusive as possible. Whether you understand that or not is up to you. But it is how things are now. It’s not me who has changed, Lisa—but my life sure as hell has.”

  “I know it has,” she said as she put her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to honor what I thought you wanted.”

  “And I love you for that. I know that it’s difficult to disagree with Barbara, and the fact that you cared enough about me to take on that challenge in person makes me love you more.”

  “So what?” Blackwell said. “Now I’m the monster?”

  “You are not a monster, but you can be scary. And you know that. Hell, you embrace that.”

  “I pride myself on it.”

  “Exactly. So listen to me. We can’t do this if you two are going to bitch about every little detail. Because if you do, the tension between you two will be so high on the day of the shower, it will ruin what should be a perfectly fun day. I need peace between you two—especially if there are going to be so many people there. This is my first child, and I need you to have my back on this. The shower should be light and meaningful. A day when we can all have a few laughs. All I want is a good cake—and some fried chicken—because if you haven’t noticed, I like to eat these days. Is that so hard?”

  “The very idea of having fried chicken at your baby shower just gave me acid reflux,” Blackwell said.