On the third day...

The third day of Christmas saw that Abby woke up quite literally face to face with her next present; three pens stood upright on her bedside table on top of a crease-free French flag handkerchief.
          Obviously, some British designer had thought it was really funny to turn the Marseillaise into a tissue.
          But it did tell her two things that her secret admirer had bothered to learn about her: that Abby had a thing for office supplies, specifically pens, and that he knew how badly she wanted to go to Paris for New Years Eve.
          The card that came with it was a little watercolour number that had a Jolly Santa trying to squeeze his big red self down a chimney half his size. It was super kitsch little card, but Abby decided it was her most favourite so far.
          On the third day of Christmas, your true love gives to thee: three French pens, two turtle gloves and a partridge named Frosty – the way you burn through stationary, especially those red pens, you’re going to need these. And don’t lose hope on Paris – the day will come probably much sooner than you think - X
         
          The pens did come in handy. Since they were one blue, one white (liquid paper), and one red they effectively filled the majority of her editor utensil needs and from the minute she rolled into the office that morning took pride of place on her desk.
          Christmas was coming up fast and it was a short week before the office Christmas party was due to go down on the 21st. Abby had never been massively pumped for it before since Damien usually brought a date and she’d never had one, but as far as she’d heard he wouldn’t this year. Not that she really should have cared when she had a romantic contender for the first time in her secret admirer, but it was going to be nice and likely far less disappointing than past years. Particularly if she didn’t end up drunk again with the intention to pretend she didn’t care that Damien’s girlfriend was hotter than her.
          But Christmas was coming up and all the magic and miracles with it; she’d finished her shopping already – far more organised of her than she usually was. And she’d actually been trusted by her mother to make some of the food for their family Christmas dinner on the 25th. After the great Turkey fiasco of 2008 Abby considered herself lucky she even got fed on Christmas day anymore let alone be allowed to help make it.
          Things were looking up.
          It was an uneventful day in the office again and, without the added entertainment of Damien’s hammer dance outside her window, the day progressed pretty slowly. By the time four o’clock came around and started the last hour countdown, Abby was face down on her desk with red pen markings on her forehead. 
          “Miss Leightley?”
          A knock on the door jolted her up and she swivelled to face the intruder.
          “Yes?”
          It was Raj from Crime fiction that poked his mocha face through the doorway and dazzled her with his Indian beauty. Jess liked to maintain that if she hadn’t seen Damien first, Abby would be just as head over heels for Raj because he looked like he was a Moghul prince in another life. Abby definitely didn’t think she was that shallow no matter how much of a beautiful sweetheart he was.
          “Hey Abby,” Raj said stepping into her office with a wide smile. “I just wanted to step in a get your opinion on something.” He took the chair opposite her desk, crossed his legs and leant back with ease. “I’ve got Jess for my secret Santa present and was wondering if you had any ideas on what I could get her that she might actually like.”
          Abby whistled in sympathy. It was a sort of ongoing office gag that Jess was supremely difficult to buy for and every year since she had lived with the golden goddess, some poor sod had come in search of her to seek her guidance. Unfortunately Abby was pretty much as equally bad at it as they were.
          She told Raj so and he laughed before suggesting the two of them brainstorm a little until they could come up with a viable suggestion.  
          When they’d just about pinned down something that held promise, Jess herself popped her head in.
          “Hey guys – working hard or hardly working?”
          Abby groped for her red pen and gave it a wave. “Just doing some friendly brainstorming over a little editorial issue. No biggie.”
          Jess nodded then turned her golden beam on Raj. “Hey Raj, I think Geraldine is looking for you to give her a hand with something Crime related – she’s in meeting room six now.”
          The Indian nodded, rose gracefully and blew Abby a kiss. “Thanks for the help, Abigail, I’ll keep our suggestions in mind fixing that problem.” He tipped an imaginary hat to Jess on his way out.
          Jess slouched into the chair he’d vacated and blinked big eyes at Abby. “So – what was that really about?”
          Abby refused to meet her eyes, notoriously bad at trying to lie to her roommate. “Editorial issue.”
          “He told you he’s my secret Santa, didn’t he?”
          Abby’s head snapped back to see that Jess was smiling at her like a cat with cream. “How the hell did you know that?”
          “I’m magic, I know everything.”
          “Right. Well, can you not say anything? You’ll ruin the surprise...sort of.”
          “You know, Abby, he’s not really my secret Santa – Damien is. He already told me. I’ve got Raj to buy for.”
          Confusion dawned on Abby's face. “Then why would he say he was?”
          “I don’t know, maybe he was just using it as an excuse to talk to you.” Jess stood up and smiled. “Jeez, Ab, you sure are turning into one hell of a hot commodity this month. Secret admirer sending you Christmas love and now the sexy maharajah is making excuses to chat you up, you’ll be beating them off with a stick pretty soon. I just came in to procrastinate, but you’ve inspired me now – see you at five!”  
          Well, that certainly added a big fat question mark against Raj’s name on her list. Abby wasn’t that popular, somehow the idea that she had more than one suitor vying for her attention seemed a little far-fetched. Maybe the Indian was her secret admirer?

          At any rate this was sure turning into a bit of fun. Or an investigation, depending on how you looked at it. 


Merry Christmas

Sam xox

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