“I need you to write out the Secret Santa numbers. In fact, I’m putting you in charge of anything and everything Secret Santa related. Make sure the long oak table is arranged in the living room so that everyone can see it. You are to take each person’s gift as soon as they arrive. This is important. They are not to place their gift on the table themselves. That would give away who brought what.”

“Understood,” Jules said.

“Is Zara playing?” John asked.

“Yes,” Claudine said. “Two things to keep in mind. One, if she steals your gift, no pouting. John.”

“Last year it felt like people were ganging up on me.”

“And two, in no scenario ever does one of you steal from Zara. Got it?” Though that wouldn’t be a problem since Claudine was handing out the numbers herself. She’d make sure Zara was in the sweet spot.

They all nodded.

Claudine stared past them, through the windows, momentarily mesmerized by the snow. It really was coming down hard. Perhaps Rashida had a point. If they wound up snowed in and Zara was forced to spend the night with this collection of odd characters, it would jeopardize the sale. They would have to move the festivities along quickly. Two hours at most. Claudine addressed the group once more.

“Everyone, please remember: yes, tonight we’re throwing a party, but this is also work. Enjoy yourself, but not too much. Let’s keep the drinking under control.”

Just then the main door opened and in came a very tired-looking Henry. Barely glancing their way, he took the shortcut through the kitchen to his office.

Henry

God, the brightness of the office hurt Henry’s eyes. Between the white walls—the white everything—and the sheets of snow coming down beyond the windows, it was blinding. Squinting, he could see Claudine at the far end, their tortured employees surrounding her. He felt sorry for them, which was a relatively new feeling. He used to think of them as the glue that kept the agency together, but recently he could only thank god his office was as far as possible from whatever terrible meeting was happening. From her. He couldn’t bear to hear whatever orders they were receiving or her instructions on proper manipulation tactics. In his brief glance, it felt like he was looking through a long tube, him on one side, and all of them smaller and trapped on the other.