Secret Santa

☃︎Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ Tᴇɴ☃︎

"Are you and Ewan together now? Is that why you met with Maria from corporate yesterday?"

Pippa looks up from her computer to see Jasper facing her with furrowed brows. Her eyes widen as she takes in the question she was just asked. Jasper watches Pippa silently with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting on her answer.

"No. Why would you think that?" Pippa asks, frowning as she clicks her pen. Jasper scoots his chair closer to her desk.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because the two of you have been getting cozy lately. For God's sake, he walked you to your car yesterday, and this morning, he walked you to your desk. He also brought you fresh coffee from the break room. What am I supposed to think, Pippa?" Jasper asks incredulously. Pippa sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Now is not the time, Jasper. It's a lot to explain, and I am not explaining it right here."

Jasper crosses his arms over his chest, leaning on Pippa's desk. Pippa sighs.

"Then when can you explain it to me? You know how Ewan is, and yeah, his actions toward you are very unlike him, but how long do you think he's going to keep it up?" Jasper clears his throat, speaking the next phrase quietly, "You're an amazing person, Pip, but not even you could tame a womaniser like Ewan. I thought you would've figured that out after Brian. Clearly, I was wrong." Jasper rolls his chair back to his desk, turning his full attention to his computer.

Pippa scoffs, unable to voice her thoughts in a manner that would not give listening ears fuel for their rumour flames.

"Drop it, Jasper. Ewan and I are not together. And I most certainly will not discuss my private matters with you right here, where anyone can listen in. So, drop it."

Pippa faces her computer.

Jasper watches her from his peripheral vision, the sharp knife of guilt lodging itself into his chest. Pippa remains unaware of Jasper's gaze, her jaw squared and eyes angry. He swallows thickly. He needs to rectify this right now.

"Look, I didn't mean it like that, Pippa. It's just—Ewan is another Brian, but he's not as horrible. I can't stand to see you go out with these guys who will treat you like shit on their shoe, and you just let it happen. I'm telling you, Pip. You. Deserve. Better."

Pippa turns to him then, her nostrils flaring in anger. She grips her desk tightly, knuckles turning white.

Jasper's eyes widen. He made it worse.

"Drop. It. If I have to tell you one more time to do so, I will not hesitate to make out with Ewan in front of you," Pippa grits out.

Donahue, across from Jasper, rolls his chair away, wide-eyed.

"I'll just leave you two to sort out this lover's tiff," he says, continuing to roll his chair toward Customer Service.

Jasper and Pippa ignore him, now locked in an intense glaring battle.

"Drop it, Jasper."

Pippa turns away from the man, the anger inside her slowly dissipating as she focuses on slow breaths. She releases the firm grip she has on her desk and rubs her palms on her skirt to at least try and ease the small ache in her fingers.

"You're not making out with Ewan," Jasper murmurs, propping his head on his right hand as he picks up a pen with his left hand. Pippa sighs heavily.

"Shut up."

"Hey, Hey! What's got you in a mood? PMSing?"

Pippa turns around to her boss standing just over her shoulder.

He grins widely, seeming pleased with himself as if he's just told the best joke in the world. Mark claps his hands together.

"Pippa, can you come into my office please? We need to chat," Mark asks, becoming serious for once. Pippa sighs again, getting up from her chair and following Mark into his office.

As she seats herself in the chair across from Mark's desk, Mark closes the door and sits behind his desk, leaning back in his chair.

"I figured you'd need a moment of peace, so just pretend I'm scolding you or something and I'm going to ask you random questions."

For once, Pippa's pleased to have a boss like Mark. She's positive no other boss would call her into their office just so she could have a break from everything going on.

Mark clears his throat. He leans forward in his seat, folding his hands on top of the desk.

"How old is Fudge now?"

Pippa hides a small smile at the mention of her dog and begins to relax her tense muscles.

"He's two," She answers quietly. Mark nods, pretending to consider something.

"I heard you got some stuff from your Secret Santa. What'd you get?"

Pippa cringes instantly, folding her hands together in her lap.

"Flowers mostly. The notes I get with them are pretty—uh—weird. A little obsessive, maybe," Pippa responds, shrugging her shoulders. Mark hums in acknowledgment, picking up a pen and pretending to write Pippa's answers.

"Do you think you'll be okay going back out there or do you need a little more time?" Mark asks, uncharacteristically quiet and sincere as he watches Pippa.

Pippa clears her throat. Her hands move to play with the hem of her skirt.

"I need a little more time."