Nine Ladies Dancing: A Holiday Novella

By Cat Lavoie

Casey Ellis is the last person who should be planning her office's holiday party. Convinced she's plagued with chronic Christmas bad luck, Casey isn't interested in tempting fate. But when putting on a party planner hat seems like a good way to get closer to her longtime crush, Casey takes charge—and braces for impact.

When things start to fall apart—just like Casey knew they would—will she run and hide, or will she learn that bad luck can sometimes turn out to be Christmas magic in disguise? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cat Lavoie
• Release date: Nov 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386005094

Cat Lavoie

Cat Lavoie is a chick lit writer from Montreal, Canada. She loves writing fun and quirky romantic comedies and is the author of BREAKING THE RULES, ZOEY & THE MOMENT OF ZEN, PERI IN PROGRESS and MESSING WITH MATILDA.   A fan of all things feline, Cat loves cats and hopes to someday have a house full of them in order to officially become a crazy cat lady. (But one or two cats will do for now.) If she isn't reading or writing, Cat enjoys listening to podcasts (mostly comedy and true crime) and watching way too much TV. She fell in love with London many years ago and hopes to go back one day. Cat is currently at work on her next novel.   To connect with Cat and find out more about her books, visit CatLavoie.com and follow @CatLavoieBooks on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.  

Book preview

1

Is it ever going to stop? I sigh as snow falls slow and steady on the other side of the large fourth floor window. The fat snowflakes twirl around before eventually crashing against the glass and melting almost instantly.

Sure, it’s kind of pretty—and certainly distracting when you’re trying to avoid looking at your computer screen—but I know that once I step outside, I’ll curse the winter chill and my car probably won’t start because it sporadically refuses to move when the temperature drops. The joys of winter? They are few and far between for me—especially today. Even if our company parking lot magically transformed itself into a veritable winter wonderland with an ice skating rink and Santa himself making the rounds with presents for everyone—I’d walk past it and head straight for my car. You can fall and injure yourself on a skating rink and we all know Santa doesn’t exist. Chances are the guy my boss hires to play him will be an ex-con who’s going to steal my wallet as he’s handing me a hastily wrapped pair of tube socks. I prefer to stay away from any and all holiday shenanigans—which is why today’s turn of events is very surprising.

In my five years as the Messina Messenger’s resident fact-checker/proofreader, I’ve never done anything to stand out or draw attention to myself. Unlike Lisa, one of our junior editors, I’ve never been caught stealing someone else’s lunch or stuffing my purse with office supplies. I don’t go after the fancy promotions—I’m all too happy to spend my days making sure Messina’s only local newspaper doesn’t commit a grammar faux pas or print something wildly inaccurate. Low-key is definitely my comfort zone—that’s why stepping out of it is driving me a bit crazy.

I decide to stop staring at the snow and turn to face my computer. That’s when I spot it—the email I’ve been dreading all morning. If I can see it, that means everyone else can see it too. I knew it was coming so I’m not surprised, but I can almost hear my co-workers scratching their heads in confusion as they read the words on the screen. I can’t blame them—the entire office has been buzzing about this year’s canceled holiday party and I’m sure the last thing anyone expects to see is this:

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To: ALL EMPLOYEES

From: Human Resources

Subject: Office Holiday Party

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Good afternoon,

This is a quick memo to let you know that, following our colleague Vera’s unexpected early retirement, Casey Ellis has volunteered to organize our Office Party. I know a lot of you have been upset about our decision to skip our annual tradition this year—but Casey has stepped up and saved the day with a little over two weeks left before the party.

Please join me in wishing Casey good luck with this festive project. Do not hesitate to go see her if you have any ideas or suggestions.

We’ve had some fabulous holiday parties here at the Messina Messenger. It might feel like the end of an era, but I’m convinced Casey will be able to make this year’s party just as memorable. Her job depends on it. (Just joking, Casey!)

Enjoy the rest of your day.

Claire - Human Resources.

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It was only supposed to be a simple announcement—she didn't need to make it sound like I'm on a mission to save the world. It’s just a stupid party, after all. I feel like slamming my head against the keyboard. What was I thinking? I can't blame Claire—I'm the one who volunteered for this awful gig. After a very strong cup of coffee this morning, I marched into her office and told her I was taking over the party. To say she was surprised in an understatement. Claire even gave me the opportunity to walk out and pretend I'd never made the trip down to HR. But I stood my ground and now the email made it official. Cue the first of many disgruntled colleagues in 3, 2, 1…

Why in the world are you the one volunteering to plan this year’s holiday party? Phyllis asks, suddenly appearing in my cubicle. Did you lose a bet? Aren’t you the one who hates Christmas? Couldn’t someone else step up?

So many questions. I slowly take a sip of water and smile at her, trying my best to act confident while hiding my sweaty palms. "I don’t hate Christmas, Phyllis. What I do hate is a beloved tradition dying because the person who’s been taking care of it for years decides to retire a few years early. I couldn’t just sit back and watch it happen."

Phyllis clears her throat loudly to let me know she isn’t buying any of this. As the office's most prolific gossip, she’ll go digging for the real story soon enough. Well, the email said we should come to you if we have any ideas or suggestions, so I’m going to make a list and get back to you.

That sounds awesome. I can't wait.

Phyllis narrows her eyes at me and frowns before walking away. It's like she knows what I plan to do with her list—a lovely little trip down the shredder. Over the next few minutes I get a handful of quizzical looks from my co-workers and some of them stop by to wish me good luck. I’m starting to feel a bit overwhelmed when my best friend Jane comes to get me for lunch. (She doesn't have a long way to go—I can almost see her desk from mine.) As the mastermind of this plan, I need her to reassure me things are going to be okay.

I don’t even have time to say a word before she puts her hand up to stop me. "I know what you’re thinking. You think this is going to be a huge disaster but, honestly, when do you not think everything is going to be a huge disaster?" Her eyebrows shoot up and she gives me a look only someone who’s known you for over twenty years can give—one that says she won’t take part in the pity party you’re getting ready to throw.

Fine, I say, logging out of my computer and grabbing my purse. I lower my voice to make sure nobody can overhear. But I have no idea what I’m doing. And everyone knows it. It’s like they can smell fear.

You are so paranoid, Jane says, shaking her head.

I am not paranoid. From the corner of my eye, I see Tyler—our IT guy—quickly pop his head back into his cubicle. What did he hear? Should I be worried? Is he going to tell the others?