The DJ grudgingly complied, and I walked away, thoroughly satisfied. That warm, fuzzy feeling from my small victory didn't last long. Sasha had Jared cornered a few feet from the punch bowl. He looked boredd and uncomfortable; she was giggling, gesturing to the mistletoe above them.

“Hi, Baby,” Jared said emphatically, pulling me to his side.

“Nina,” Sasha said, surprised. “What are you doing here?” I raised an eyebrow. “I mean…where have you been?” she hedged.

“With the DJ, insisting he lower the music to an acceptable decibel. Now, if you’re finished flirting, I’ll save my fiancé from beneath the mistletoe so you no longer have a reason to threaten him with your dry, clumpy lipstick.”

Sasha’s mouth fell open, but I didn’t give her enough time to fire back a reply. A slow song came over the speakers, and I pulled Jared to the center of the dance floor.

His fingers pressed into my skin, eager and anxious. “Would it be redundant of me to say that I enjoy it very much when you’re jealous and mean?”

“Yes, but say it anyway,” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck. Before long, more couples joined us, and we were lost in a sea of lovers swaying to the music.

When the song ended, Jared left for the punch bowl line, and I stayed behind to greet co-workers and guests. Some were retirees, men and woman that had been with my Titan since the beginning. Seeing them brought back hundreds of memories, and it was soon a relief to welcome the new faces of the company.

“You shouldn’t be standing around when there’s a slow song, Peanut,” Grant said. He undoubtedly wore his most charming smile.

“I’m here with Jared, Grant,” I sneered.

“Oh, c’mon,” Grant grinned. “Just one dance?”

“No.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You look,” he gave me a once-over, “incredible. Red is…wow.”

“Thank you,” I said, looking in every direction but his.

“Are you sure you—,” he said, trailing off. “Jared! Nice to see you.”

The pleasant expression on Jared’s face as he handed me the small, plastic cup faded abruptly when he turned to Grant. “I wish I could concur,” Jared said, noticeably restrained. “You might have better luck with the interns,” he nodded to a dark corner of the room, “who are spiking their punch, and might be more susceptible to your persistence.”

Grant’s smile didn’t budge. “Happy Holidays to you both.”

“Merry Christmas,” Jared said.

The people around us were beginning to stare, so I looked to the floor, attempting to downplay the spectacle Jared had made.

“What is with you?” I said, trying to keep my head down.

“I didn’t want him to be under the impression that I liked him.”