Pink Christmas (The Pink Series Book 2) Read online

  I take another step toward her. “Phoebe...”

  She keeps her back to me. “So, they aren’t coming...” she mutters.

  I lay a soft hand on her shoulder. “That’s their choice. But they’re wrong, all right?”

  Phoebe slowly turns, guided by my hand. “Right.” She nods once.

  “You mean everything to me. And Max. You know that.”

  She nods again, just once. “Right.”

  I cup her face, desperate to take the sadness from her big, gray eyes but my tongue weighs heavy. I’m not great at saying the right thing in the moment. I’m much better at writing that stuff down.

  “Pheebs, he’s wrong,” I say again. “And out of line. He has no right to assume or judge what we have. Don’t let it get to you.”

  Still, she nods, though her eyes never change.

  I lean down to kiss her forehead. “How about you and I make a mess of these sheets, eh?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

  Her lips barely twitch and she looks away.

  Fuck.

  Foot meet mouth.

  “Actually, I think I’m gonna take Stink for a walk,” she says.

  I sigh as she slips from my fingers. “Phoebe...”

  “I’m fine, Thad.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  She walks out into the hall and I bite down hard.

  “You want me to come along?” I ask.

  “No, I’m good.”

  I exhale. No, she’s not.

  She’s definitely not good.

  3

  Phoebe

  Well, it’s been a while since I’ve had my heart ripped out like that.

  Honestly, I thought those days were behind me.

  I have a great job; as close to my dream job as I can get.

  I have a great boyfriend; quite literally the man of my dreams.

  I have a second great boyfriend; a man who makes me laugh harder than I ever dreamed was possible.

  We all live together in my dream house with my dream pet.

  I have supportive parents who love me and think I can do no wrong.

  Or so I thought.

  I pause on the street corner, gently tugging on Stinky’s leash to keep her from racing into traffic. “Hold on, girl,” I say.

  She stops beside me, impatiently wagging her tail as we wait for the light.

  It’s not normal.

  My father is wrong. I know that. There’s really no such thing as normal in this world anymore. Seven billion humans and not a single one of them is the same. Statistics shift more toward abnormal every day. I know this, and yet...

  My heart still hurts.

  I shouldn’t doubt what I have for a second, but I do.

  I shouldn’t think twice about my love for my boys, but I do.

  I thought my parents were different than Thad and Max’s, but they aren’t.

  I thought they understood us, but they don’t.

  Ugh, I’m giving myself a headache.

  The light goes green and I step forward to walk Stinky across the street. I reach into my pocket for my keycard as I turn us toward the office building on the corner: the New York branch of Fortnight Press and my home away from home.

  I scan my card and the electronic door unlocks. The place is officially closed for the holidays, so I should have the place to myself to quietly think things over.

  Stinky instantly stalls, her nose pointed down at the floor to take in all the various smells in the lobby.

  “Come on,” I say with a chuckle.

  We board the elevator to the tenth floor. I focus on the dog’s excitement over my own personal misery. She rarely gets to go anywhere other than the house or the dog park, so I’ll consider this a Christmas treat.

  I step off the elevator and scan the dark office space. The sea of cubicles are empty, many of them lined with holiday decorations that I’ll be sad to see go once New Year’s rolls around and life goes back to normal again.

  I take two steps toward my office in the back corner before a muffled giggle finds my ears. I pause, focusing my senses and following the noise behind my office door. I ease closer and I hear it again, followed by the sudden crash of my pencil cup plummeting to the floor.

  I sigh and raise a brow at my inquisitive pup. “Jackie,” I mumble.

  I press my ear to the door, catching another round of giggles and a grunt or two. I roll my eyes before knocking twice. Hard.

  “Shit—” I hear.

  A shuffle of feet. A push of a chair.

  “Go, go, go—”

  The latch of my coat closet door.

  “Jackie?” I ask, knocking again. “Are you in there?”

  The door swings open in front of me and I smile at her flushed cheeks and prominent cleavage poking out behind her haphazard, black locks.

  “Phoebe,” she says, straightening up. “What, uh...” She leans into the doorway, blocking the view. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just taking a walk...” I say, trying to peek over her tall shoulder. “Figured I’d stop in and do a little work.”

  “On Christmas Eve?”

  “Uh-huh.” I squint. “Why are you here?”

  “Oh, you know. Same as you. Just catching up on a little work.”

  “You?” I joke.

  She feigns a laugh. “Oh, that’s funny. You’re so hilarious. I love you.”

  I lay a hand on the door and push it open the rest of the way. The room is, apparently, empty. Stinky tugs on her leash toward the closet and lets out a whine but I hold on tight.

  “So, just you, then?” I ask Jackie.

  “Just me,” she says with a happy nod toward the dog.

  “Just you, doing a little work on Christmas Eve?”

  “That’s right. You know me. I like to stay on top of… things.”

  I release the leash and Stinky bolts into the office, coming to a quick stop at the door to the coat closet. She barks twice and scratches at it, eager to get to the squatter inside.

  I raise a knowing brow at Jackie’s cringing face.

  “Damn dog,” she mutters.

  I whistle once, signaling Stinky to back down. She kneels and looks up at me with her big, brown eyes as I bend over to grab her leash again.

  “Martin,” I say, “you can come out now.”

  After a few seconds, the knob turns. The door slowly opens on Martin Fellows, my old boss here at Fortnight and Jackie’s frequent fuck buddy.

  He slinks out of the closet and stands up tall with lipstick marks on his chin. “Hey, Phoebe,” he says, awkwardly trying to fix his silver-speckled hair.

  “Hi, Martin,” I greet.

  “It’s not what it looks like,” he says, folding his hands in his lap as Stinky sniffs at his shoes.

  “Oh, yeah?” I smirk.

  “I just stopped by to...” He hesitates, his face bright red. “I forgot something.”

  Jackie nods. “Right.”

  “You forgot something?” I play along. “In your old office?”

  “Exactly.”

  “After a year?”

  “Uhh... yeah.”

  I nod. “Well, did you find it?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I did not.”

  “Would you like to try the conference room?” I ask, giving him a way out.

  “Yes, I would. Thank you.” He steps forward, quickly grabbing his wrinkled coat off the desk. “Love what you’ve done with the place, Phoebe.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Fellows.”

  He bolts out without another word.

  Jackie closes the door behind him and exhales hard. “Okay, fine. We were boning.”

  I snort. “Duh.”

  She points a stiff finger at me. “But you were supposed to be gone until after New Year’s, giving me plenty of time to deep clean the place before you could even find out.” She crosses her arms and glares at me. “What are you even doing here?”

  I point at the couch. “Did you guys do it here?”

  �
�No,” she answers.

  “Cool.” I plop down onto it with a sigh and reach down to pet Stinky’s head as she settles by my feet.

  “Uh-oh,” Jackie says, studying my face. “What’s wrong? What’d they do?”

  “They?”

  “Was it Max?” she asks, toughening up. “I knew he was too perfect.”

  “It wasn’t Max.”

  “Thad?” Her jaw drops. “He cheated, didn’t he? I told you, Pheebs, you can’t trust a pilot.”

  I laugh. “Thad didn’t cheat, Jackie.”

  “Well, tell me what they did and point me at ‘em.”

  “They didn’t do anything,” I say. “It’s my parents. They’re not coming.”

  Her shoulders sag. “They’re not?”

  “No.”

  “I thought they were excited, though.”

  “I thought so, too, but… my dad called this morning and said that they couldn’t support my lifestyle. So, they aren’t coming.”

  Jackie furrows her brow. “What a crock of shit.”

  I shrug a shoulder. “They’re entitled to their opinion. It’s all right.”

  “Uh, no. It’s not all right. You have the best lifestyle ever. What the hell is their problem?”

  “I mean, they’re right. Right? It’s not normal normal...”

  “What’s so great about normal?” She scoffs. “Normal sucks.”

  “Having supportive parents who show up for holidays is a nice perk of normalcy, I’d say.”

  Jackie pauses. “Okay, sure, but...”

  “I don’t really want to talk about it, honestly,” I say as I scratch behind Stinky’s ear. “Just came here for some quiet while I think of what I’m gonna do.”

  “What you’re gonna do?” she repeats. “What’s that mean?”

  I don’t answer.

  “You’re gonna go home to the two alpha male badasses who love you and you’re gonna let them deck your halls,” she says. “That’s what Christmas is all about.”

  I chortle. “Deck my halls?”

  “Fill your stocking. Jingle your balls. Fuck your brains out. Woman, you get the idea.”

  “You’re right,” I say with a nod. “I’m just a little rattled by it, that’s all. I mean, I love them. They love me. We’re happy but I can’t seem to shake the feeling that it’s all just... temporary.”

  “Aw, Phoebe,” she says, dripping with sympathy.

  “How long can something like this really last?” I ask. “Honestly.”

  Jackie presses her lips together. “I don’t know, girl, but...” she shrugs, “can anyone answer that about any relationship? Quote unquote normal or not?”

  “I guess not.” I eye my desk. “Sorry I interrupted your holiday tryst.”

  She waves a hand. “Eh, it was worth it to see him stutter out that excuse. Old dudes can be so adorable sometimes.”

  I chuckle. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Well, we’ll get out of your hair.” She rests her hand on the doorknob. “Unless you want me to stick around for some girl talk.”

  “No, you leave. No reason why your halls can’t be decked today.”

  “Damn straight.” She flashes a wink. “Merry Christmas, honey.”

  “Merry Christmas,” I repeat.

  She leaves, quietly closing the door behind her.

  I pat the seat beside me, offering it to Stinky. She hops up and lays her head on my lap, easily sensing my unhappiness with her doggy senses.

  I let out a deep sigh. “It’s okay, girl,” I tell her, hoping she’ll believe me.

  Because I sure as hell don’t.

  4

  Max

  In my line of work, there’s no better feeling than keeping a well-known, dangerous man behind bars.

  However, today, I may have stumbled on something even better.

  Like keeping a well-known, dangerous man behind bars in front of his amoral, sadistic shark of a lawyer…

  And my father, Keith Monahan.

  Merry fucking Christmas to me.

  “Max.”

  I hear his low growl beneath the murmur of passersby as we spill out of the judge’s chambers. I continue forward, pretending to ignore it. This ain’t Los Angeles.

  He’s on my turf now.

  I keep my stride in the hallway, casually making my way toward the elevators. “What’s up, Dad?” I ask as he matches my pace beside me.

  From the corner of my eye, I catch the proud smirk on his chin. He’s pissed — rightfully so — but even I know that he can’t fault me for the move I just played.

  “An injunction, on Christmas Eve?” he asks. “Didn’t think you had it in you, kid.”

  I don’t stop. “It was now or never. Someone had to keep your client in jail.”

  My father goes quiet but he stays in line with me toward the elevator. As we reach it, I slap the call button and glance up at the numbers to see how long I need to wait… and how long I have to extend this conversation to make my victory exit.

  “Your skills are wasted here, you know.”

  I glance at him, amused. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I’m sure my boss will think they came in handy today.”

  The elevator doors open and I wait as others step off. Unfortunately, the Pandora’s Box that is this conversation means my well-timed exit is gonna have to wait.

  My father follows me on and I hit 15.

  “Is this really what you want?” he asks me. “To be some junior partner lackey for these people?”

  I snort. “I was a junior partner lackey for you, too.”

  “And that carried a far heavier weight there than it does here.” He narrows his eyes. “You need to give up this charade, Max. It’s time for you to stop messing around and come home.”

  I don’t even blink. “I am home.”

  “Your real home.”

  “This is my real home.”

  He sighs with frustration. “Grow up, Max. You’re killing your mother with this, you know.”

  “Really?” I chortle. “Because she seemed fine when I spoke to her three days ago. And last week. And the week before that. And the week before that...”

  He fixes his jaw. “Max…”

  “Believe me, Dad. The only one I’m killing by being my own man is you.”

  The elevator doors close with no one but the two of us inside and I dig my feet in.

  Here we go.

  My father turns to face me. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing this year has been?” he spits through his teeth. “My only son — my namesake — my legacy — walked out on me.”

  I force my eyes to stop rolling. I’ve heard this shit before.

  “Maybe your insistence on making everything about you had a little something to do with that,” I say.

  “And when I’m dead, it’ll be about you — just like it was all about my father until he was six feet under. That’s how this works, Max. A man serves his father.”

  “No,” I say.

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “I mean that when serving a father means abandoning morality, ethics, and compassion in order to collect a bigger paycheck, then he’s no father worth serving.” I stare at him, his eyes icy cold. “It’s Christmas Eve, Dad. Instead of taking a few days off to spend with Mom, you’re here — three-thousand miles away — arguing on behalf of a drug dealer so he can spend a little less time in jail and a little more time cutting you in on profits.”

  “I came here on Christmas Eve so I could see my son,” he says.

  “No, you came here to bribe me. What are you here to offer me this time? A new condo? How about a house in the Hills? Or the Porsche?”

  “Max, come on—”

  “Thanks, but no thanks, Dad. I’ve got everything I need here in New York. The life I’ve built here with Phoebe and Thad is so much better than anything I could achieve as a footnote in your legacy. So, again, my answer is no.”

  Dad looks
down. “So, you and he are still…”

  “Still what, Dad?” I egg him on. “Still friends? Still living together?”

  “You know what.”

  “Still in love with the same woman?” I tilt my head. “Or is it the possibility that I’m in love with him too the thing that really bothers you?”

  He says nothing.

  I shake my head. “You know what, don’t answer that. I don’t give a shit what you think.”

  The elevator opens on the 15th floor and I move to step off.

  “Max, where are you going?” he asks.

  I pause, briefly turning back between the open doors. “I’m going to update my boss and then I’m going home to spend the holiday with the people I love. I suggest you do the same.”

  Dad stands still, silently fuming, as he glances over my shoulder.

  “Max.”

  I turn around and my gut lurches. Thad stands in the waiting area with his hands in his coat pockets and a dire expression on his face.

  Something’s wrong.

  I throw on a smile for my father’s sake. “Speak of the devil,” I say.

  Thad’s grim eyes suddenly brighten as he notices my father. He steps forward to greet me as I walk off the elevator with a devious glint and a gummy smile.

  “Wassup, Keith?” he asks.

  My father flexes his jaw and looks at me, blatantly ignoring Thad. “Consider my offer, son,” he says as he taps the door close button.

  “Already have. I’ll pass,” I say. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”

  He looks down as the doors close on his face.

  “Damn,” Thad says. “He seems… well, angry. As usual.”

  “Some things refuse to change,” I say, catching the shift in his face. “What’s wrong? Shouldn’t you and Phoebe be at the airport by now?”

  He sighs. “Yeah, we were supposed to but…” He runs a hand through his locks. “They aren’t coming.”

  I squint. “Not coming?”

  “Pheeb’s dad called, said some pretty shitty things, but the gist of it is that they don’t support her lifestyle, so they’re not coming. Direct quotes in there.”

  “What? Since when?”

  “Since always, I’d imagine. Just never had the balls to come out and say it until now.”