Dirty Christmas
The office buzzed with holiday cheer on the last day before Christmas break. Fairy lights twinkled over cubicles, and the scent of gingerbread cookies wafted from the break room.
I, Holly Jenkins, sat at my desk nursing a lukewarm coffee, dreading the Secret Santa exchange. At twenty-eight, single and buried in spreadsheets, I craved excitement, but not the kind that came with anonymous gifts from coworkers. Still, I plastered on a smile as our HR rep, Tina, passed out the wrapped boxes.