by Tracy Brogan
“Nothing?” Ethan asked. “Try again. You’ve been twitching around in that seat like you’ve got the clap. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there was a woman.”
I turned my head toward the window so fast my brother started laughing. “Okay, then. Who’s the woman?”
“No one.” I cleared my throat. It was a little raw from all my cheering at the game.
“Liar. Is it Trina Bartholomew? Please tell me it’s not her.”
My turn to laugh. “No, it’s not Trina. And it’s not the clap, either, by the way.”
“Glad to hear that. So spill it. Who’s got you all fidgety?”
There was really no point in keeping this a secret. Guess I’d pretty much failed at that anyway. “Kelsey Parker. Remember her? As in spin the bottle Kelsey Parker?” I filled him in on all the basics of our past few encounters, leaving out the graphic details but embellishing just enough to make him feel a little jealous. Brothers will do that from time to time.
“I remember her from high school,” Ethan said. “She filled out her sweaters nicely.”
“She still looks good in sweaters. But there’s this boyfriend,” I said. “She’s allegedly breaking up with him as soon as he gets back from Hawaii, but you know how that goes.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean she’s been dating this guy for a couple of years and right now she’s pissed because he went on vacation without her, but what happens when he gets back and says he’s sorry? Plus the guy has got some serious cash. He’s a Haskell, like from Haskell’s Holiday Haven. That big Christmas store? Oh, and he’s her boss.”
“Ouch.” Ethan shook his head. “Cash and power. Tough to top.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
Ethan tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to prove you’ve got something he doesn’t. Give her something he can’t.” He glanced over at me from the driver’s seat.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.” Then he chuckled. “Maybe one of those stupid picture frames with the flowers glued all over it?”
Chapter 7
“YOU DO REALIZE THAT IF anyone sees us having Sunday breakfast together, they’re going to assume we were together last night, right?” Drew said, gazing at me over the rim of his coffee cup at the Hummingbird Café. His voice was a little hoarse this morning and it was making me all melty inside.
“Well, we might have been together if you hadn’t gone to a hockey game instead,” I answered. “But thanks for meeting me either way. Sorry I called so early. I didn’t see your text until this morning.”
He set his cup down on the red laminate tabletop. “That’s okay. Sorry I sent that text so late, but I’m glad you called. This is nice.” His smile was as hot as the coffee, and just as steamy.
“Well, I wanted to get a chance to see you before I left town.”
That steamy smile cooled. “Left town?”
I nodded. “Just for a couple of days. It turns out that the project Nick Haskell called about isn’t nearly as big a mammoth as I’d thought. It’s really just a matter of being time sensitive, so I told him I could handle it after all.” Of course, it was Blake I’d told that to, not Nick, but that was a mere technicality. “I’ll be back to Bell Harbor by Wednesday.”
“What made you change your mind? I thought you were done with them.” His tone was neutral as he opened up and stared at the menu.
“I am done, but I have to figure out my future plans first. I can’t very well quit before I have my next paycheck lined up. But trust me, I have schemes brewing that have nothing to do with that job or anyone in that family. I’m just trying to create a little goodwill with this project before I make my grand exit.” It sounded kind of calculating when I phrased it that way, and that wasn’t how I meant it.
Drew kept his eyes on the menu. “So you are planning to exit? You haven’t changed your mind about that?” His guard was up now, and I guessed I could see why. I’d been so vehement about not taking on this extra work, and yet there I was, running to the aid of the Haskells. He might think I was having second thoughts about Blake as well. I was not.
“No, I haven’t changed my mind about anything. I am moving on from all things Haskell. Scout’s honor.”
A curly-haired waitress in bejeweled glasses came over to refill our coffee cups, and I thought of how much I wanted to tell Drew about all my crazy business ideas. About the possibility of opening up a consignment shop and moving back to Bell Harbor, but it might be a little too soon for that. I mean, I knew he was interested in pursuing a relationship, but telling him I was quitting my job and relocating after just one night of sex, albeit awesome sex, might be more than he could handle. I wanted him to like me, not file a restraining order against me.
The waitress smiled and ambled away to the next table.
“So, can I see you when I get back?” I asked, reaching over and tilting the menu away from his face with my fingertip.
His hazel eyes regarded me for a minute, and the pause wasn’t subtle. Still, I could see the corners of his mouth tilting the teensiest bit.
“Maybe,” he said at last. “Depends on when you get back. I might have plans with the high school lunch lady that day. The rotund one with the hairnet has kind of caught my eye.”
Humor. Good. That was a good sign. “Mrs. Bleaker?” I laughed. “Is she still there?” I remembered her from my days at Bell Harbor High.
“I’m not sure,” he answered, giving way to his smile. “It might be her daughter. I can’t tell them apart. Which one has the unfortunate mole?”
“Both of them.”
He laughed, and the sound of it thrilled me. “Oh, well, I don’t know which one it is then,” he said, “but she’s dead sexy and I know she wants me.”
“So do I.”
His laughter turned into an abrupt but appreciative clearing of his throat. He pressed a fist against his sternum. “Okay, then.”
“So can I see you when I get back to Bell Harbor?” I asked again. So much for playing hard to get.
“Yes, I suppose. Who is taking care of your grandma?”
“Dody, Fontaine, and Alberta Schmidt are taking turns. And my sister is helping, too. Plus Grandma is actually getting around pretty well. She told me this morning that God might let her fall once in a while but the devil always helps her back up. I hope she meant that the other way around but I didn’t dare ask her.”
“It’s probably best that you not know.” He nodded sagely.
“That’s what I thought, too.”
He set his menu down next to the coffee cup. “So will you be back on Wednesday in time for the Bell Harbor Christmas Carnival?”
“Oh, my gosh, are they still doing that? I haven’t been to one in years.”
Drew nodded. “Yes, and my grandfather is still playing Santa.”
Each Christmas the town hosted a winter carnival at the elementary school. There were holly-jolly games and old-fashioned carolers and donkey rides. Basically my worst nightmare. A total tacky overload of all things yuletide, right down to the fake Santa’s Workshop constructed out of cardboard walls and masking tape. But each year Old Junior Hampton would put on his fuzzy red Santa suit, sit in a big, overstuffed, green velvet chair in the gymnasium, and listen patiently as every little kid in town took a turn on his lap, listing their Christmas wishes.
“Is it weird that I’ve sat on your grandpa’s lap?” I asked, stirring a little cream into my coffee.
Drew smiled. “A little bit. I guess it depends on what you asked for.”
“I’m pretty sure I asked for the same thing every year. Polly Pockets, Beanie Babies, and a pony. Never did get the pony.”
“Well, you should come to the carnival then,” Drew said. “Grandpa’s retiring the suit after this year and it might be your last chance.”
Old Junior Hampton and that Santa suit. Some things in this town never did change. An unpredictable wave of good old-fashioned nost
algia washed over me. “In that case, I wouldn’t miss it. Will you take me?”
He paused again, just to tease. “I guess. How about I pick you up at five o’clock? We can go to the carnival and then grab a late dinner afterward. Or something.”
Or something, indeed.
Driving to Chesterton, I was full of glad tidings and good cheer, which unfortunately dissipated as soon as I got to Haskell’s. Walking through aisle upon aisle of identical, factory-produced ornaments all made in China reminded me of how little power I had in my job as buyer for this company. Anytime I’d suggested something that wasn’t red, green, or glittery, the Haskells had rejected it. But if I had my own little store? Then I could buy whatever I wanted.
I wasn’t naïve enough to think having my own store would be easy. Far from it. All the responsibility would fall squarely on my shoulders. Succeed or fail, it would all be on me. But I was okay with that. The entire notion was as exhilarating as it was scary.
Logging on to my office computer, I discovered Blake had sent more e-mails with additional items that the movie studio needed, along with some time-sensitive requests for items that would require hours to track down. He also sent a completely random plea for me to “pretty please” pick up a Christmas gift for his secretary. His secretary! He hadn’t gotten me a Christmas gift last year, but apparently she was going to get a lovely scarf from him this year. I knew that because I’d just ordered it! This was not what I’d agreed to over the phone. But once I’d given that inch, Blake knew how to take a mile.
The angrier I got with Blake, the more determined I became to complete everything on the damn list, if only so he’d miss me that much more once I was gone. I ate dinner at my desk, making phone calls and sending e-mails to all the various vendors, arranging tracked shipments to ensure on-time delivery, and even getting the best price on forty-eight-inch wreaths so that the profit margin for Haskell’s was as high as possible. There was no way any Haskell could say I had not given this my usual one hundred and ten percent.
I comforted myself with the knowledge that this was the last major project for them I’d ever have to handle. Damn, I was a great employee. I was going to be very lucky to have myself once I was self-employed. I was going to make myself a great company owner and a great company employee. I might even give myself a well-deserved raise.
It took me two and a half days to tackle everything that Blake had flung my way. Each of his e-mails had been evasive about when exactly he’d be back in Michigan, leaving me to wonder if he’d changed his flights after all. Maybe he was staying in Hawaii because I was proving so efficient. Nonetheless, each note ended the same. “You’re the greatest, babe!” He was right. I was. And it was time for me to own that and use my awesomeness for my own benefit instead of pouring all my energy and loyalty into Haskell’s Holiday Haven. So along with all the stuff I was doing for Blake, I also polished up my resume. If owning my own boutique didn’t pan out, I’d need that. Always good to have a Plan B. And C.
When I felt as if I had done all that I could do in Chesterton, I drove back to Bell Harbor, once again feeling full of glad tidings.
Dody Baker stood in front of the big picture window of my grandmother’s house wearing a sweater so bedazzling it looked like a box full of fishing lures. She was admiring her reflection off the glass, turning this way and that. “Don’t you love the sparkles? A girl can just never have too many sparkles.”
I would respectfully disagree. She was like a walking disco ball and kept blinding me every time she turned, but I kept my thoughts to myself. She’d come to pick up Grandma to take her to the winter carnival, and I was all for that. I wanted the house to myself when Drew arrived so we might have a few minutes of privacy without having to listen to the innuendo-filled banter sure to be provided by these two oversexed old ladies.
Dody turned around at last to face me. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
Oh, not this again. “Yes, this is what I’m wearing.” I had on jeans and a very cute red sweater.
“That’s not sparkly at all. What’s the matter with you? Don’t you know it’s Christmas?”
Grandma hobbled in from the other room, leaning on her cane but still moving remarkably fast for a woman of her age and current state of disrepair.
I stepped over to offer her my arm but she waved it way. “Yes, I know it’s Christmas, Dody,” I said. “Not every woman has quite your flair. I’m afraid I just couldn’t pull off a look like yours.”
Actually, the first thing I’d do with that fishing lure sweater would be to pull it off. Then I’d donate it to scientific research to see if they could figure out what kind of materials it was made from, because nothing about that sweater said organic fibers.
“It’s true,” Dody nodded. “I do have a style that’s all my own.”
I nodded. She did, indeed.
“What time is that Hampton boy supposed to pick you up?” Grandma said. “Would you like us to wait with you?”
“No!” I answered far too quickly, getting squinty-eyed looks from the both of them for my troubles. “No, that’s okay. He won’t be here for another half an hour, and I have some things to take care of before I can leave.”
“Well, I hope one of the things you’re going to do is put on something more festive. Would you like to borrow my snow globe earrings?” Dody said, tugging at one lobe. “I got these at the pawn shop.”
“No, really. This is what I’m wearing. It’s red. That’s about as Christmasy as I get.”
“Don’t even bother trying, Dody,” my grandmother said as she worked to get her coat on. “She’s no fun at all. I tried to talk her into wearing one of my push-up bras and she wouldn’t have any of that, either.”
Could there be any worse insult than wearing your grandma’s push-up bra?
Maybe, since she’d written her name in great big letters inside the cups. I could only imagine that moment when Drew deftly unhooked my bra and watched it slide to the floor, only to land tag side up, exposing Property of Anita Parker.
“Why did you label your bras, anyway?” I asked.
“Because of that trip I took to Vegas with my poker-playing pals. I didn’t want any of those cheaters making off with my super-fantastic double-elastic boulder holders.”
“Boulder holders? Really, Grandma?” This was precisely why I needed them out of here before Drew showed up.
Dody stepped over and helped Grandma adjust her coat. “Come on, Anita. I can see she’s trying to shoo us out of here. I bet she has plans for that Hampton boy. You know, play a little Mr. Grey will see you now. That sort of thing.”
I wouldn’t even dignify that with a response. It would only slow them down.
“Let me get the door for you,” I said instead. I helped get them both into the car and loaded Grandma’s wheelchair into the trunk just in case she got tired of walking, and off they went.
I sprinted back inside and leaned against the door, breathing a brief sigh of relief, but it was short-lived. A scant two minutes passed and I saw car lights in the driveway again. It was too early to be Drew. They must have forgotten something.
I pulled the door open to see what they needed, hoping it was something I could just throw at them and send them on their way once and for all. But when the lights turned off and the car door opened . . . there was Blake.
Chapter 8
“BLAKE?” IT WAS ALREADY COLD outside, but suddenly the temperature seemed to drop another ten degrees.
“Hiya, babe! Surprise!” He had a big Cheshire cat grin on his face. On his stupid, super tan face. His hair was even blonder from his days in the Hawaiian sunshine, that vitamin D–hoarding bastard. He strode up onto the porch and pulled me in for a big hug. I was so shocked, I didn’t even resist. I just dangled there like a Shelf Elf.
“Blake, what are you doing here?” I said, my voice muffled by the lapel of his black Gore-Tex coat.
“I got home this morning and drove straight here. I wanted to surprise you.
Surprise! Are you going to invite me inside?”
“Um, yes. Sure.” I stepped back into the house and he followed, taking off his coat and hanging it on the rack while I tried to regulate my breathing. This was very unexpected. This was very unfortunate, too. Very unfortunate. I was going to have to break up with him. Right now. Right now while I waited for Drew to pick me up.
Blake pulled me in for another hug and went for a kiss, but I turned my head. His cold lips landed on my cheek instead. “Aw, babe. Still bent out of shape about Hawaii, I see. I promise I can make it up to you. That’s why I wanted to come straight here. There’s something I want to ask you and it can’t wait another minute.”
I stepped away and moved toward the couch. Mostly because I thought my legs might give out in a second. Was Blake seriously about to bust in here and propose? His eagerness was palpable, his conviction of my answer misplaced. Obviously, if he proposed, I was going to say no. My stomach roiled. It’s not that I was scared about breaking up or had any doubts. I just wasn’t prepared at the moment. But he was here and I had to do what I had to do.
“Come sit down, Blake. We do have stuff to talk about, but in all honesty, I have a friend coming to pick me up in a few minutes so I don’t have much time.”
“Well, this won’t take long.” He came and sat next to me on the couch. We were turned toward each other. He moved closer so our knees were touching. He pulled my hands into his. “Listen, honey, I know this whole tropical vacation thing was hard. If I had it to do over again and I’d known about that big Galaxy Studios project, well, I might have done things differently.”
Really? That was his landing point? That he regretted the trip because of the Galaxy project and not because he’d left me behind?
“But it is what it is,” he said. “So first of all, I want to say thank you so much for all you did to handle that project. I had no doubt in my mind you could do it. That’s why I told my dad to call you. Outside of the family, you are by far Haskell’s most valuable player.”
