“Jesus Christ, Julia. I asked you for one damn thing,” Barney sneers and for a moment I think of being stuck in the elevator yesterday. The He is the reason for the season comment and for some reason, it makes me fight back a smile despite my current situation—standing before my ex-boss asking for my final paycheck. “I asked you to deliver those packages for me and you messed that up. You were my best girl and . . . “

“You fired me, Barney. If I was your best girl, you would have given me a second chance,” I huff out and look around the stacks of mail sorted but sitting idle. The mail room is empty. Barney must have let everyone work a half day for the holiday so they could all get home for Christmas Eve before the snow starts.

“Jules.” My name sounds like regret and it gives me hope that I might still have a job here.

“I’m not here to cause problems. I just want my check.” I shrug.

“And I just want the mistake fixed. You do realize that you delivered the wrong package to the owner of the company, right?”

“No, I didn’t. I didn’t have any packages to a McMasters.” I know I didn’t. I’ve never even been to the floor his office is on.

“You say that and yet I got a call from Archer McMasters himself asking why he received a package for someone else and not the very important package he was waiting for. You think that makes me look like I run a tight ship? You think—”

“What’s your point, Barney?” I ask. “You want me to switch it out? Fine. Give me my job back and I’ll fix the problem. Although, I know for a fact I didn’t mess anything up yesterday.”

My words stop his rant and for the first time since stepping foot in here, I notice the bags under his eyes are darker, his hair a little bit messier, but there is a ghost of a smile on his lips that makes me feel like I’ve been played. “What?” he barks out a laugh.

“It’s Christmas Eve. I’m sure you have a family to get home to when I don’t have any plans . . . so go ahead and give it to me. I’ll make it right.”

“I was ready to bribe you to fix the problem and you just up and offer to?”

“Shit. Can I take the offer back then so I can hear the bribe?” I laugh, suddenly having the feeling that things might just work out. Suddenly wanting them to.

“No. You can’t . . . but, you’ll have my undying appreciation . . . and a little more understanding next time.”

“Next time?” Hope bubbles up.