Page 1 of Not Another Christmas Movie

CHAPTER ONE

“This holiday season, good girl Annie Meyers is looking to get a little naughty,” Annie Meyers said in her best movie trailer voice. She used one hand to swat and then rip down a piece of low-hanging mistletoe from the entryway and the other to balance the remaining contents of her Poinsettia Punch.

“What are you going to do with that?” Marsha Parsons asked, likely hoping to hear about some sort of romantic scheme her best friend was embarking on to spice up this mostly mundane holiday party.

“This stuff is poison,” Annie sneered, holding the plant between two fingers.

“So is what you’re drinking,” Marsha said dryly. “Maybe we should get you something to eat before you finish that?” Annie raised a defiant eyebrow before chugging the lackluster and now lukewarm beverage. “Fine, well, I still want a snack.”

“How much longer do we have to stay?” Annie whined when her cup was empty.

“Annie, it’s our first holiday party in our first official office building. We should be celebrating,” Marsha said, scanning the room for more food.

“I’m bored,” Annie said, snapping back, her tipsy tone a tad too loud.

“We asked you both to join the party planning committee,” an annoyed voice cut in. Annie and Marsha turned to see Grant Lee glaring their way, arms crossed, waiting in line to sit on Sexy Santa’s lap. His impatient tartan-plaid-loafered foot tapped to the beat of “Dominick the Donkey,” belted out by nearby karaoke singers.

“Grant, hi, I didn’t see you there. Great party,” Annie said sheepishly.

“Annie’s not exactly the party planning type,” Marsha explained as Annie silently mouthed “traitor” in her direction. “But count us in for next year!” Marsha exclaimed, and Annie audibly groaned.

Grant had gone to high school with Annie and Marsha in the quaint town of Simsbury, nestled in the heart of Connecticut, a quintessential New England destination. He kept two very active Instagram accounts, one under his professional name and another under his drag queen name, Peppermint Patti LuBone. Annie had inquired about rental space in the building after Grant had posted about it from his primary account, sharing that the marketing firm where he worked during the day had an open space. Annie and Marsha had signed papers for a year’s lease just days later. Their new office was likely used as a storage closet before their arrival, but with Marsha’s organizational skills, it quickly became a functional, albeit cozy, base for their mostly online business. It was Grant’s second (and way more colorful and campy) account that made their tiny, adults-only operation feel welcomed there.

Grant was also quite proudly the self-appointed head of the building’s party planning efforts. Considering the small allotted budget, he did an impressive job putting together events for everyone who rented offices, and they were always well-attended. And despite simply working within proximity of each other at entirely different businesses and knowing each other from childhood, Grant had gone from casual contact to a good friend over the past several months.

“And I saw you take that mistletoe, Annie. That was from my private collection. Give it back,” Grant demanded, holding out his neatly manicured hand.

“Sorry, Grant,” Annie mumbled, dropping it in his palm.

“You’re lucky it’s almost my turn to sit in Santa’s lap,” Grant told her. “He’s cute, right? I found him on Facebook Marketplace.”

Grant grinned as he leaped up and immediately straddled Sexy Santa, tongue at the ready to lick the red and green body glitter from his bare chest.

“Looks like you’re on my naughty list.” Annie heard Sexy Santa growl at Grant.

“Is it time for Santa Claus to ‘cum’ to town?” Grant panted. Annie and Marsha openly gawked at them, all ears and eyes taking in the unfolding scene.

“Are we on the set of a Christmas porno?” Marsha asked.

“Shhh, I’m watching,” Annie murmured, wishing she had popcorn from one of those festively decorated tins to snack on. Grant whipped out the mistletoe he had taken from Annie and shot her a wink before planting a hard kiss on Sexy Santa’s mouth.

“Oh, hey, I forgot!” Marsha squealed, grabbing her purse. “My mom gifted me some fancy cookies,” Marsha lowered her voice and showed Annie a small red box. “They’re from a place called Yes, You Cannabis.”

“Say less,” Annie whispered back, her eyes lighting up with delight. Marsha popped the top of the box open, revealing an assortment of holiday-themed treats.

“Let’s try this one,” Marsha said, freeing a chocolate crinkle cookie.

“Chocolate anything is the answer to everything,” Annie said and nodded, welcoming the half that Marsha offered her. “Your mom is the best,” she said, slowly chewing the soft cookie, allowing the taste of chocolate to take over.

“I think she wanted me to be a little more relaxed about meeting Pete’s family. That and I think she feels slightly guilty for agreeing to work the holiday,” Marsha said.

“How are you feeling about meeting Pete’s family?” Annie asked. “Still excited?”

“Pete’s dad designed a PowerPoint presentation for me about Hanukkah,” Marsha said, the corners of her mouth unable to hide the delight longing to beam across her face.

“Stop.”

“Seriously.”