“Ha.”
“Hurry up. They’re waiting.”
Joy took the file and checked Jamie’s itinerary. First step? A photo op with the mall’s Santa.
How hard could that be?
Feeling in control, Joy took the file and went out to meet her shoppers.
She found the family waiting in the small grouping of chairs by Customer Service. They didn’t seem to notice her, which gave her a few minutes to assess what she was going to have to deal with. Two older boys were fighting over which was superior, Marvel Comics or D.C., and the younger one was ripping apart a magazine, folding the pages into paper airplanes.
The father was talking on his cell phone, seemingly oblivious to the chaos erupting around him. If Joy had met him anywhere but here under these circumstances, she might be inclined to notice that he was hot.
Dark brown hair that bordered on black, with just the merest hint of silver at the temples. His sons probably put each of those gray hairs there, she thought, and refused to give any consideration to the man’s well-proportioned body.
She looked for something negative to concentrate on. There. His nose was too prominent and sharp. But then she noticed it had a slight bump in the middle that softened the line and he wore a small smile that crinkled at the edge of his lips. It was a warm expression that seemed at home on his face.
Okay, so he was nice to look at, but she was going to ignore the fact he was attractive and remember that this was business. The sooner she started, the sooner this shopping trip would be over.
The two older boys were still arguing, and the youngest ripped another page out of a magazine, while hunky dad continued his conversation.
To add insult to injury, “Hark the Herald Angels” was blaring over the intercom and, as if on cue, the phrase, “Peace on Earth” rang out. Peace might be on earth, but it certainly wasn’t going to be in Harrington and Vine’s…at least not until Joy could get this shopping trip over and the boys out the door.
She cleared her throat.
The comic debate continued, Mr. Hall kept talking on the phone, laughing at something that was said. But the youngest boy looked up and lobbed one of his dozen airplanes at her. Joy deftly caught it.
The boy smiled.
And despite the fact Joy was allergic to boys, she didn’t find it overly difficult to offer a little smile back. “Are you ready to do some shopping?”
The comic boys stopped, the youngest picked up his arsenal of planes and stuffed them in a back pocket, and the father said, “Goodbye,” and snapped his phone shut.
“Hi.” Joy forced a smile. “I’m Joy O’Connell. I’ll be assisting you today as you shop.”
“Hello, Joy. I’m Edward Hall.” The man took a step toward her, hand extended.
Joy took it and it would have been all aboveboard and professional, if his fingers hadn’t grazed the inside of her palm. The touch sent a spurt of adrenaline racing through her bloodstream, causing her heart rate to pick up its tempo.
Joy quashed the breathless feeling the sensation left her with. “Uh, Mr. Hall, it’s a pleasure—”
“Dr. Hall,” the youngest boy interrupted. “My dad’s a doctor. Not a real doctor. I mean, he doesn’t cut people open and look at their guts or anything. A real doctor would do that. He just goes to his office, then comes home. I’m T.J. You caught that plane like a boy, not some girl.”
The boy offered the last part up as if it were the biggest compliment he could give.
Despite the fact boys made her itch, Joy grinned. “I’ll have you know that girls can catch, and even make paper planes, every bit as well as a boy can, T.J.”
He scoffed, as if at the ripe old age of—what, thirteen?—he knew that boys could outplane girls.
Maybe if they survived the day, Joy might just show him a thing or two.
Dr. Hall nodded at the two older boys. “And these are my sons—”
“Mr. Marvel Comics, and Mr. D.C.,” Joy supplied.
“Jake and Tim,” Dr. Hall supplied.
“Jake, Tim,” she acknowledged with a nod. “Now that the introductions are made, let’s start our day. Jamie is superefficient and left me her schedule for you all. It’s going to be busy. Our first stop is a quick visit to see Santa Claus.”
She tried to sound enthusiastic about the schedule, but she obviously didn’t quite pull it off because the boys groaned.
“Oh, come on,” Joy said, trying even harder to sound excited at the prospect, though she felt anything but. She forced another broad smile. “It’s just a few snapshots for publicity. How bad could it be? You have a couple pictures taken, then you get to shop.”
Dr. Hall shot her a look that said he was sure it could be pretty bad.
Joy was inclined to agree, but continued to hold her brittle smile in place as she shepherded the family down the escalator and toward the mall’s Santa display.
She realized the intercom was playing “Here Comes Santa Claus.” It should be playing, “Here Come the Halls.”
She hoped Santa was ready for them.
CHAPTER THREE
TURNED OUT SANTA WASN’T ready for the Halls.
And neither was Joy.
How hard was it for three boys and one man to stand next to a mall Santa and smile long enough for a picture to be snapped?
The answer was, it had been very hard.
Very, very hard.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Hall said…again.
It was just after noon and they were standing in line at the coffee shop that was located directly across from H&V’s side entrance. The boys had run ahead to the electronics department, while the two adults tried to recuperate over the restorative properties of coffee.
“No problem,” Joy repeated.
She tried to issue her assurances with conviction and forced yet another upturn of her lips. But of course, all her reassurances were big fat lies. This shopping trip was a problem, and the pictures with Santa? That had moved beyond problem to pure torture.
She kept forcing that smile as they waited for their coffees.
She’d read somewhere that it took fewer muscles to smile than frown.
She had her doubts about the veracity of that particular study because her facial muscles were feeling very strained at the effort of maintaining her happy facade. She turned away from Dr. Hall a minute and scowled at no one in particular.
It felt wonderful.
She almost groaned as she forced a smile back in place and turned back to him.
“Santa didn’t appear to be any more thrilled with the whole picture-taking process than the boys were,” Ed said morosely.
“Or you were.” She tried to pass the comment off as a joke, even though joking was totally beyond her capacity right now.
“Forty-four,” the counter girl called out.
“That’s us,” Ed said, claiming their coffee cups. “Shall we find a table? We can take a moment and muster our collective strength for the actual shopping.”
“Maybe the boys will manage a few items on their own while they’re in the electronic department?”
She was hopeful. It would be wonderful if, rather than a better part of the day, they were able to finish their shopping in short order. Then she could feed them a quick lunch and be done with the Halls.
Ed shook his head as he steered them toward the only empty table in the small coffeehouse. “Not going to happen. We’ve already let them loose. I guarantee shopping for their half siblings is the last thing on their minds. New video games, stereo equipment and the like is all they’re thinking about right now. I love my boys, but I have no illusions. They’ll be shopping for themselves.”
“Great.” Joy caught herself. That was a mutter. A disgruntled, non-holiday-spirited sort of mutter.
“Great,” she tried again, infusing a good measure of enthusiasm into her voice. “Today’s about them having a good time. And they each get to buy something for their brothers, so even if they just get some shopping done for them
selves, we’ll have moved forward. So, while we drink our coffee, why don’t you fill me in on who they need to shop for.”
“They have two younger half siblings. Their mom, their stepfather and two sets of grandparents.”
“And you, of course, Dr. Hall.”
“Ed,” he corrected. “Once two people have survived something like Santa pictures, they can’t stand on formalities. I’m just Ed.”
“And I’m Joy.” She took a long sip of coffee and felt a bit better for it. “Any suggestions on what sort of gift for you I should steer them toward?”
He was a doctor. What sort of things did doctors do for enjoyment? “Golf equipment maybe?” she tried.
“I don’t golf.”
“Oh.” Okay, she was stereotyping. That didn’t sit well. She tried to be open-minded about people. Not all doctors golf.
She took a sip of her very hot coffee.
“So, Dr. H—” His frown stopped her midword. “Ed,” she corrected. “So, Ed, what do you do for fun?”
“I’m so busy with the kids’ schedules that if I ever had a hobby just for me, for fun, I’ve forgotten it. I work, I do dad stuff and…” He paused, as if trying to think of something else he did, then shrugged. “I guess I’m a bit of a bore. But for me the dad stuff is my fun.”
“You’re no bore,” she contradicted. “You’re a good father. Putting the kids first. So, what could they give you that would make your Christmas merrier?”
“Merrier.” He gave a little snort.
What was that?
That was definitely a disgruntled snort.
Did she detect something a little less than holiday spiritedness in the man who kept cheerily assuring her that the pictures were no problem?
He’d just smiled bigger and broader each time he told her that this take—the twentieth take for instance— was going to be the one where none of his sons made devil horns behind a sibling, or stuck out his tongue, or punched a brother.
Could Dr. Edward Hall be a Christmas-bah-humbug kindred spirit?
“You’re not feeling all warm and mistletoey today?” she asked slowly, testing his Ebenezer level.
“If by mistletoey you mean dry and prickly, then yes. I’m feeling that way today…pretty much all season.”
“But you seemed so holiday gung ho. Even through the worst of the Santa pictures.” She deepened her voice and did her best impression, “Come on, boys. This is the picture, I can tell.” She laughed. “You outcheered Santa, who actually wasn’t hard to outcheer. I’m pretty sure he was ready to be done with the whole picture thing after the first shot. He’s not the jovialest mall-Santa I’ve ever worked with. Actually, he’s probably the most cantankerous one.”
“It was all an act—mine, not Santa’s—a horrible fraud,” Ed told her in a conspiratorial stage whisper. “I thought I could pretend some Christmas spirit, but Santa convinced me I can’t. I mean, the man was chanting the word coal like it was some kind of mantra. And after that small problem with the boys snapping the string that held his beard in place, he got a bit more explicit in what he’d like to give them for Christmas. When you said, ‘Everyone say Ho Ho,’ he said ‘Bah Humbug.’”
Ed took a long sip of his coffee. “Even at that, Santa has more Christmas spirit than I’ve been feeling. I’m to take the boys to my ex-wife’s in Raleigh tomorrow afternoon. They’ll be there for a week. And though they’re a bit of a handful, I’ll miss them. I know, it sounds pretty lame, but there it is. They drive me crazy, but not having them home will sort of take something out of the holiday.”
“Your first holiday since the divorce?” Joy asked with sympathy. She knew that the absence of family could put a real damper on the holiday spirit.
“No. It’s been years since the divorce. But my ex has lived here in Charlotte up until this year, so we’ve been able to yo-yo the boys back and forth. A few hours, or even a day without them is a respite, but a whole week, especially during the holidays?”
“I understand.” Joy felt the same way about her family. All those Christmas gatherings could get to be a bit much, and over the years, from time to time she’d fantasized about skipping out and hitting some Mexican beach for the holiday.
But now that she was actually not going to be home for the merry-go-round of parties? There was a hole. The holiday had lost some of its luster for her. “Really, I understand.”
Ed sighed. “I know I shouldn’t complain. The boys are with me most of the time. They wanted to stay in their schools, and I give Lena a lot of credit for allowing them to stay here, so I shouldn’t complain that they’ll be with her over the break…”
Joy heard the unspoken but. “But you’ll miss them.”
“I know, after the entire picture-with-Santa debacle, you probably can’t imagine why, but there it is. Yes, I’ll miss them.”
He took another sip of his coffee and looked up. Their eyes met and held for a moment, maybe longer. Then he said, “Sorry. I don’t mean to bring your holiday spirit down.”
“Down?” Joy was pretty sure the word came out as a scoff. “I don’t think my holiday spirit could go any lower, even if we had to spend the entire day taking pictures with Santa. And to be honest, that’s saying something.”
“But you seem so jolly.” This time it was his turn to look puzzled. “You’re a fraud, too?”
“I’m a very good actress. It’s going to be my first holiday here in Charlotte. My family’s all back in San Diego. The only friend I have on the East Coast, is up in Pittsburgh, and though I’m sure Morgan wouldn’t mind my visiting, it’s still too far. So, I’m here on my own. There’s been a flu bug going around and about a third of my staff is out and—” she lowered her voice to a notch above a whisper “—try as I might, I’m so sick of Christmas carols that I swear if I hear one more song using the words holly, jolly or merry I might scream. And if it’s a rapped carol?” She just shook her head, not willing to describe her upcoming reaction.
“Oh, yeah? My receptionist is pregnant and due to give birth any day. I’ll spend the next three months having to cope with a temp.”
He grinned, almost daring her to beat that.
Joy realized they were playing a game of one-upmanship. Whose holiday was the suckiest. “Oh yeah, Dr. Hall—”
He interrupted. “Ed.”
“Ed,” she agreed. “Well, Ed, truth be told, I’m the store manager and simply filling in for Jamie, Harrington and Vine’s Personal Shopper. She’s out sick. Shopping with four males, three of them teens or thereabouts, wasn’t in my job description.” As soon as the words were out, she worried that he might take offense, but he just laughed.
“She’s out with the flu that’s making the rounds?”
She nodded.
“Fine. But I can top that.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. We’ve both been pretty even. Both going to miss family. Both with missing, or soon-to-be missing employees. But shopping on Christmas Eve with four males? I win the suckiest-Christmas-award hands down.”
“Seriously, I can beat it. You see, I have to help the boys shop for my ex-wife, her husband and their two children. Even your aversion to Christmas carols—”
“I’ve been listening to them since before Halloween and company policy won’t allow me to turn them off until the day after Christmas,” Joy argued, even though she knew the truth of it. She’d lost this battle.
Ed shook his head, even as he grinned. “Sorry. Shopping for an ex and her new family trumps even three months of Christmas carols and Christmas Eve shopping with boys. I win.”
Joy raised her frappacino for a toast. “I bow to your win and commend you for officially having the suckiest Christmas season.”
As his coffee cup knocked against hers, Joy realized that the day suddenly didn’t feel nearly as sucky.
As a matter of fact, she was sitting having coffee with a handsome man, laughing and carrying on as if she didn’t have a desk filled with problems to attend to and the last few hours of th
e holiday season to wrap up before starting the postholiday season, which was as crazy or even crazier.
But at this particular moment, all that was easy to forget. For the first time in a long time Joy didn’t feel lonely and realized she could easily stay right here for a lot longer.
Knowing she had to get back, she took a final long, appreciative swallow of her coffee. “I suppose the sooner we get the shopping done, the sooner you’ll be out of your misery. Well, at least part of your misery.”
As if he’d read her mind, he said, “And the sooner we’re done the sooner you can get back to your normal job and forget about the horrors of shopping with four men on Christmas Eve.”
She realized that horror wasn’t quite the word she’d use to describe the experience, despite the whole Santa thing. “To be honest, I don’t mind this as much as I thought I would.”
He laughed. “Just wait. The pictures and the coffee break were cakewalks compared with making my three shop for anything other than computer games and DVDs.”
“That bad?” she asked, her uplifted mood sinking a bit.
He grimaced. “Worse.”
CHAPTER FOUR
AS THEY WALKED BACK into the store across the still-bustling hall, Joy’s cell phone rang.
Ed walked a couple steps ahead, trying to give her some privacy for the call, but he couldn’t help glancing back. She was a decidedly average-looking woman, if you took in each of her features one by one. Blondish-brown hair…his mother used to call it dishwater blond. He’d guess she was about five-five which wasn’t tall or short. She had pleasant, albeit average features—a small, perky nose and light brown eyes.
But, there was nothing average about Joy O’Connell. When she’d laughed over coffee as they vied for first place in the suckiest Christmas contest, there was a spark there…a spark Ed hadn’t felt in years.
He pulled his thoughts away from his decidedly less-than-average shopping hostess and tried to take in the mall.
With only a few hours left to shop, the activity level in the main concourse was frantic. People scurrying from one store to the next, racing the clock to finish crossing names off their lists.
Dashing Through the Mall: Santa, BabyAssignment HumbugDeck the Halls Page 19
