Good Elf Gone Wrong: A Holiday Romantic Comedy
Good Elf Gone Wrong: Chapter 50

Should I show up to a dangerous billionaire’s house in the middle of the night?

Probably not.

But fuck it. Fuck everything.

I pounded on the front door of the penthouse.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, coming here? You should have called me and told me to meet you somewhere more discreet,” Grayson said when he opened the door.

“Why? You got some Rockette here?” I snapped at Grayson. “Throwing a rager?”

He shut the door behind me.

I’d been in his home before, though ‘home’ was probably inaccurate. Grayson Richmond lived in a sterile museum. There was hardly any furniture and none of the little homey touches like Gracie would have included.

Grayson’s cold green eyes focused on the books in my hands.

“Follow me.”

We headed through the dark, empty penthouse—no knickknacks, no pictures, no personal items.

This man has no soul.

Once in the study, I shoved aside the paperwork he’d been occupied with and slammed the books down on the desk.

“Looks who’s back on my good list.”

Fuck him.

I would never forget Gracie’s horror when she saw me with her sister, her shock as she stared at me as I walked out on her. I had to watch her heart break, and I couldn’t even go to her when she begged me to all because of Grayson, because of this job.

He opened a notebook at random and made an appreciative noise.

“They’re all like this,” I told him as he flipped through the book. “Even a single page could bury EnerCheck Inc. And all the books together? It’s a goldmine.”

“She even time-stamped many entries. She also notes when the incident happened and when she wrote it down. You could use these as court evidence, they’re so watertight.” He whistled, a surprisingly casual move for him. He must be surprised.

“I told you, people underestimate her,” I said, feeling proud of Gracie. It was hard to earn the respect of a man like Grayson. She’d done it without even officially meeting him.

“You really did deliver,” Grayson said, green eyes glittering in the lamplight. “Now I need you to find some way of laundering this. Can you cross-reference her—”

“Already got you covered,” I said. “You could just post all these on Facebook tonight if you wanted. If you have any concerns about the legality of it, well, a company whistleblower clued me in to them. Kelly’s the one who told me about the books. She’ll testify to it, I would bet, just to fuck over her sister.”

“Huh,” Grayson said, crossing his arms and leaning on his desk. “Her own sister? You sure?”

My heart clenched, remembering the text messages from Gracie I’d scanned in the elevator.

“Gracie blew up her marriage and made Kelly look like a fool in front of her entire family after she got caught kissing Santa Claus under the mistletoe.”

“Sounds like you got both jobs finished just in time to be home for Christmas,” Grayson said, deadpan.

“Fuck you. I don’t care if you fire me, but fuck you.”

“I’m not going to fire you. You’re incredibly valuable to me.” He stepped around his desk, sat down, and pulled out a checkbook. It wasn’t the kind my mother used to use to write bad checks. This was the type with the big fancy checks and was a literally the size of a book.

Grayson opened the checkbook and pulled out a fountain pen that probably cost more than the truck I’d driven there in. The nib scratched on the expensive paper.

My phone buzzed again. It was her. I knew it.

After a mission, I destroyed my phones. I would have to do it tonight. Gracie would be out of my life forever.

Grayson handed me the check. “Merry Christmas. There’s some extra in there since you went above and beyond. The whistleblower protection was a nice touch.”

I felt dirty taking it.

This was what it was all for? I’d ruined Gracie’s life for a piece of paper?

She was happy right now, but that was because she didn’t know that Grayson Richmond had her in his sights. He was just waiting to pull the trigger.

I threw the keys to the truck on Grayson’s desk.

“Thank you for your business.”

My phone buzzed again.

“I’d get you a drink, but it sounds like you’re busy.” He nodded to the pocket with my phone.

“Probably my brothers,” I lied.

Grayson gave me an assessing look.

“They’re messaging your burner phone?”

I scowled at him and turned on my heel.

“Truck’s parked in the public deck three blocks down. Oh, and one more free bit of advice,” I said over my shoulder, “since it is Christmas.”

“Yes, I suppose it almost is.”

“You should consider hiring Gracie.”

“Why, because if I don’t, you will?”

“No,” I said bitterly. “She’s too dangerous to have around. She’s going to figure out that I screwed her. She’s too clever not to eventually figure it out. Then I’ll have a weapon at my back. She has a hard-on for elaborate revenge schemes, you see.”

“Why would I want her in my company if she’s a ticking time bomb?”

“Because you’re a billionaire. You can handle the risk better than I can.”

“You feel guilty.”

“I don’t,” I lied.

Grayson smirked. “It appears as if the cold-blooded mercenary grew a heart this Christmas. How sweet. I’ll see you in the new year, Hudson.”

“Yeah, sure.”

I sat there in my office drinking, just so I wouldn’t have an excuse to drive.

I looked at the picture blearily—her pretty mouth, her huge tits. In the photo, Gracie was lying back on the bed, her fingers down between her legs.

“She’s not mad at you. You could go to her, be there in three and a half hours, three if you really pushed the bike.”

I took another long swig from the bottle.

“You shouldn’t,” I reminded myself. “You’re tired and stressed out. Ignore it. Ignore her.”

There would be no happily ever after because this was about to blow the fuck up.

I stared at the photo again.

Another text message came from her.

Gracie: Are you ok?

No, Gracie, I am not okay.

Gracie: I can kiss it and make it better.

Elsa knocked on the doorframe of my office.

“Delivery from Santa’s workshop.”

Elsa set the shadow box with the bits of bridal lace, Gracie’s great-grandmother’s photo, a couple of little miniature items like a small dressmaker’s doll, and a small handwritten note with the great-grandmother’s name and what the items were from and the year. There were also a few other photos of Gracie’s great-grandmother’s wedding and engagement.

“Where’d you get that photo?” I asked, pointing to one in the corner. It showed two figures silhouetted by the light of a fire, the man holding Gracie’s’ great-grandmother’s hand.

“The proposal photo? It was on Gracie’s hard drive. I snagged it before Lawrence destroyed the evidence.”

“Man, old-timey people really had it good, didn’t they?” I took a swig from the bottle. “Chill by the fire, get a wife. That guy didn’t even have to get on one knee.”

“I think it’s a sweet photo,” Elsa said, poking at me.

“Thanks, Elsa.” She took the shadow box back and rolled out some wrapping paper on my desk.

“Demarcus made tres leches cake, if you want something to soak up that booze,” she offered as she expertly wrapped the present, a skill she’d learned from all her holiday retail jobs.

“Maybe.”

My phone beeped again after Elsa had rejoined the party.

Gracie: I miss you.

There was only so much a man could take.

Fuck. I needed to be with her.

I hauled myself up off the couch.

“Where you heading, boss? We’re having a Christmas party!” Talbot called to me.

“Whoo! Look at that bonus!” Jake was dancing on the table with Grayson’s check.

“Give me that check before you ruin it,” Anderson said, taking it from Jake. “I’m putting this in the safe. We need to deposit it first thing, Hudson. Hudson?”

I was slowly dragging myself to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“The bus station.”

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