by Annie Rains
Chapter Seven
That’s it. I’m done.” Yolanda blew into the town hall the next afternoon on a flurry of snow.
Everett got up from his desk and went to lean against the doorframe. “You’re quitting?”
If he sounded hopeful, Yolanda didn’t seem to pick up on it.
“No. I need a new car.” She unwound her purple knit scarf from her neck like a spool of twine attached to a rapidly rising kite. “Kevin forgot his speech, and I drove it over to the retirement home. And then my car wouldn’t start. Not so much as a click-click.”
“Dead battery?” Everett asked.
“Dead car.” Yolanda threw her scarf at her feet and stared at it in defeat. “Darnell Tucker says he thinks my block is frozen, maybe cracked.” She wrapped her arms across her chest in a self-hug. “I invested what little savings I had into Rosalie’s store to protect it from my greedy ex.” She paused, possibly realizing Everett understood about greedy ex-spouses. “How am I going to pay for a new car?” She lifted her lost gaze to Everett’s. “If I ask Rosalie for my money back, she might go under.”
It was all Everett could do not to squirm. As part of his cost-cutting plan, he’d been filling out Yolanda’s termination paperwork.
He attempted a smile. “I’ve found Sunshine to be a very walkable city.”
“You drive your car to work every day.” She sank into her chair and put her head in her hands. “And your apartment is only three blocks down. I really need you to be a compassionate coworker right now, not Scrooge.”
Everett hesitated, and then he came to stand by Yolanda’s side and gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “Everything happens for a reason.” That was what his mother said every time something bad happened. She’d told him that when he was a kid and they’d been evicted. She’d told him that when Lydia pled guilty. It was a hollow line, something you said when you didn’t know what else to say.
“If you’re thinking of telling me what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger…” Yolanda sniffed, grabbing two tissues from the box on her desk. “I’m not strong enough to hear that yet.” Her shoulders shook.
Everett stared at the ceiling, trying to be both supportive and cognizant of a coworker’s personal space. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day?”
“I can’t.” Yolanda wiped at her eyes, not that her action stopped the flow of tears. “The tree-lighting ceremony is at six.”
“I insist.” As a compassionate coworker. “As your boss.”
“It’s three thirty.” She blew her nose. “I can make it.”
All that emotion. All her protests. Yolanda claimed she didn’t want Scrooge but talking to a caring coworker was sending her into a downward spiral.
“Go home, Yolanda,” Everett said in what he was coming to believe was his Scrooge voice—low, gruff, firm. “You can make up your hour tomorrow.” Everett stepped back and braced himself for her reaction.
Yolanda’s shoulders stopped shaking. Head bowed, she scrubbed her face with a tissue and then blew her nose like a trumpet sounding a charge. Her head came up, revealing eyes sparking for a fight. “You’d send me home on one of the most important nights of the year for us? As if I had nothing to do with the coordination of this event?” Yolanda snatched up her purple scarf and wrapped it around her neck. “What? You think I’ll trust you to ring the bell for Haywood?” She laughed, a short bark of sound that echoed through town hall. “Not on your life.”
“Okay.” Everett nodded, weathering her storm. “Why don’t you go outside and make sure everything is going according to your plan.”
“I will.” Yolanda pushed past him, past the nearly empty tin of candy canes, past the full toy drive box. She blew out the door, slamming it behind her. She marched across the snow-spackled road and into the town square without looking back.
That’s the way she’ll walk out when I lay her off.
Everett’s stomach turned. He hadn’t realized Yolanda’s future was tied up with Rosalie’s.
I can’t let that influence my decisions.
He glanced toward his desk and the termination paperwork, which sat next to the pet bed, where Tink was curled up, watching him.
The front door banged open, and Bitsy scrambled inside, clinging to a door carried back by the wind. Everett hurried over to help her shut it.
“You’re here!” Bitsy clutched his arm. “I need you to come with me right away.”
“Why? Is there an emergency?” Everett glanced across the road, gaze searching for prone bodies. “Is anyone hurt?”
“No one’s hurt but it’s an emergency.” Bitsy grabbed his jacket off the rack and thrust it toward his chest. “Grab Tinkerbell and let’s go.”
Everett didn’t budge. “I can’t just leave. I’m the only one here. What if someone needs something for the tree-lighting ceremony?” Unless there was arterial blood spurting, there was nothing the older woman could say to get him out of the office right now.
“If anything happens, they’ll call Yolanda the same way they always do.” Bitsy gave him an impatient look. “Everett Bollinger. Move it. Rosalie needs you.”
There was a line out the door of Sunshine Pets.
A line of customers with pets on leashes, in crates, and in boxes, waiting to come inside.
Rosalie should have been ecstatic. The Santa Experience had struck a chord with Sunshine pet owners.
Just her luck. Santa had called in sick.
She’d enlisted the help of Paul Gregory to play Santa. She’d rented a Santa suit, including a lovely white beard, chest padding, and shiny black boots. And then twenty minutes ago, Paul had called to cancel from the emergency room. His service truck had slid into a ditch and he’d hit his head. He was fine but was being kept at the hospital on concussion watch.
The best-laid plans…
She had fifteen minutes to find Santa.
“I found him,” Bitsy said breathlessly as she burst into the shop, dragging Everett behind her. “I found Santa.”
“Whoa.” Everett dug in his heels, despite little Tinkerbell prancing forward toward Remington. “I thought you said it was an emergency, Bitsy.” He gave Rosalie a full-body visual inspection. “You look okay. Are you okay?”
“It is an emergency.” Bitsy tried to tug Everett farther inside.
“A serious emergency.” Rosalie rushed over to hug Everett, relaxing into the circle of his arms. “Paul canceled. Everyone in my family is at work. I need a Santa Claus.”
“I’m Scrooge,” Everett said gruffly.
“Not always.” Rosalie drew back to look him in the eye, to smile as tenderly as that kiss they’d exchanged. “And not today.”
He pressed his lips together.
Unwilling to give up, Rosalie turned him toward the windows. “Do you see that line? That’s my line. My new customers. People who love their pets enough to brave the weather for a photo of their fur baby with Santa. And I achieved that line playing by your rules, Everett. Please. Say you’ll be my Santa.”
He heaved a sigh.
Taking that as assent, Rosalie half led, half dragged him to the back room and the Santa costume, pausing only to hand Tinkerbell’s leash to Bitsy. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said as Everett fingered the full white beard.
“You have no idea,” he murmured, staring at the costume.
“You’re thinking this is a new low.” She rubbed his back, which was broad and strong enough to carry the burdens of others. “You’re thinking Scrooge is playing against type.”
His gaze swung to hers, eyes narrowed.
Santa Claus isn’t coming to town.
“But you’re not Scrooge,” Rosalie said a bit desperately, pointing at the Santa costume with both hands as if that proved her point. And maybe it did. Scrooge would never don Santa’s suit. “What you’re not seeing is what a great opportunity this is to prove it.”
“You’re right about the not-seeing-it part,” Everett said.
The clock was tic
king. Rosalie needed Everett to move, not hesitate.
“This is just like when you charmed my mother last night.” Rosalie laid a hand on his arm. She liked touching him. And the good news was that he hadn’t walked out. “If you want to be understood, you need to show your true colors.”
“Only I’ll be wearing a fake beard.” And a scowl, if his gruff tone was any indication.
“And a bowlful of jelly.” Rosalie held up the chest padding and smiled as brightly as she could.
Ar-ar-ar-ooo. From the store proper, Remington sounded like he was nervous.
Tinkerbell barked once.
“Um, Rosalie?” Bitsy called through the closed door.
“Please.” Rosalie put all her desperation into that one word. It was either beg or begin to practice her cancellation speech.
Everett sighed. “Okay.”
“Really?” She drew back, countering the urge to throw her arms around him. “Can I use your photos on my website?”
“Don’t push it, Rosalie.” Everett faced her squarely but his gaze landed on her lips. “Out.”
She ran out before she succumbed to the impulse to kiss him.
“This was such a fun event.” Wendy Adams, the elementary school secretary, had her tortoise in a box on the sales counter. She paid for her purchase, a T-shirt decorated with sea creatures that read, Skip the straw and save the ocean.
“Your photo will be ready for pickup tomorrow.” Rosalie was sending all photographs to be printed at the pharmacy. She’d probably lie awake tonight wondering if all the files would go through. Next year, she needed to print everything in-store.
Wendy stuck her T-shirt in her hobo bag and pulled her knit cap down on her blond hair. “How in the world did you get Scrooge to play Santa?” She sneaked Everett a look over her shoulder.
“Everett is a charming gentleman,” Bitsy said. She’d been a godsend, helping customers find items for their pets while Rosalie worked the register. “Just look at him with little Vivvy.”
A blond toddler sat in Everett’s lap, cradling a big white bunny. Mims Turner had brought the little cherub in with her rabbit and hovered nearby, grinning.
Rosalie experienced an unexpected wave of pride for Everett. “He makes a perfect Santa.” She couldn’t stop smiling. Not even when she caught Everett’s eye. Her heart was full.
With Everett around, she wasn’t alone. He had her back. He may claim to be a number-crunching, detached machine, but she knew that wasn’t true. Everett had a heart. He just hadn’t been given an opportunity in Sunshine to let others see what Rosalie saw. Until today.
“A man like that…” Bitsy came to stand next to Rosalie. “They don’t come along often. A man like that fills the lonely corners of a widow’s heart.”
Rosalie murmured her agreement, ringing up another customer.
A man like Everett had a heart big enough to accept a cast-off, high-strung dog. He had the strength to talk to Rosalie about sensitive topics, like her dead husband. And for as much as folks complained that he was by the book, no one ever said he did anything shady or underhanded. He must have been crushed when his wife’s crime was discovered. Everett was honorable. A great addition to the community.
A wonderful addition to my life.
Love—or its early warning system—pulsed in ever-tightening bands around her chest. Love wasn’t supposed to feel constrictive and tense. Love for Marty had been a lighthearted, soaring feeling.
Rosalie glanced at Everett once more. He was leaning forward to mug for the camera next to a chocolate Labrador’s happy face.
He’d said he wasn’t staying in Sunshine. He’d said that once the budget issues were resolved he’d move on. He had bigger dreams than she did, bigger desires when it came to material possessions. Was that the source of her tension?
Rosalie stared across the store. Everett sat alone.
It seemed like, almost in the blink of an eye, everyone had left to go to the tree-lighting ceremony. The store was nearly empty. No one else was in line. Everett disappeared into the stock room, presumably to change.
“He’s really nice,” Bitsy emphasized again. “One of a kind.”
“Has my mother been talking to you?” Rosalie shook her head. Love continued to hug her chest as if afraid to let go. She drew a deep breath.
Don’t let me fall for a man who isn’t planning to stay in Sunshine.
Bitsy studied her closely. “I’ve been married and widowed three times. I think it’s okay to open up your heart to ideas and possibilities. And love.”
“You’ve definitely been talking to my mother.” Rosalie rang up the last of her customers.
Tinkerbell trotted over to the supply room door. Remy joined her. They both sat down, waiting. Bitsy rearranged the remaining ornaments on the Christmas tree while Rosalie straightened up endcaps and displays.
A short time later, Everett appeared, his hair askew. He picked up Tinkerbell and snapped on her leash. “Ladies, we need to hurry, or we’re going to miss the tree-lighting ceremony.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Bitsy bundled up and gathered her things. “I’ve got hot chocolate to sell.”
Rosalie couldn’t move, not even to hand Everett his dog’s booties.
“Aren’t you coming?” Bitsy turned, pausing at the door.
“We’ll be along,” Everett told her, a smile building on his handsome face as he looked at Rosalie.
A smile.
The man had been barked at, shed over, and drooled upon. He wasn’t Scrooge. He was Santa on vacation—good-natured and joyful. She’d bet he was determined to hide his softer side. But she’d seen it more than once. And now it was on full display.
The tension around Rosalie’s chest dissipated into a flurry of heartbeats.
Everett walked toward her, Tinkerbell in his arms. Remy fell into step beside him.
Two sweet dogs and one lovable man.
We could be a family.
Over the store’s speakers, the least romantic carol played: “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas.”
Rosalie didn’t care that there weren’t flowers, love songs, or candlelight. Nothing could ruin this moment. She was in love, and the world was full of laughter and sunshine. Finally, finally, finally. The something she was missing was here. The world seemed brighter and in sharper focus.
Everett set Tinkerbell down when he was a few feet away from Rosalie. “Your customers were happy?”
“Yes,” she breathed, unable to move when more than anything she wanted to step forward and be loved by him.
Everett came and put his arms around her. “And were you happy?” A question spoken in a low, intimate voice.
“Not as happy as I am now,” Rosalie said as his lips lowered to hers and she opened her heart to possibilities.
They didn’t make the tree-lighting ceremony on time.
They didn’t care.
Chapter Eight
Are those the numbers?” Kevin shut his laptop and sat up in his chair.
Despite it being late and no one else being in the office, Everett closed the door behind him. “Yes.” He handed Kevin the budget.
Just a few hours ago, the tree-lighting ceremony had been a success—not that there’d been any doubt. The only thing different this year was the bell-ringing by Yolanda after Haywood’s proposal.
When the bell had rung, Rosalie had flung her arms around Everett and kissed him. He’d almost walked over and given Haywood fifty dollars. Because in that moment in her arms, he’d forgotten responsibilities and hard choices ahead. There had only been Rosalie and her outpouring of affection.
Kevin stared at Everett, not at the pages. “How’d we do?”
“It’s not enough.” Everett had run the numbers backward and forward. He’d reduced seasonal employment and scaled down next year’s tree-lighting ceremony. “You know what we need to do.”
Kevin’s expression hardened. “My father never laid anyone off.”
“No offense, but…”
Everett leaned forward, hoping his words would sink in. “Your father is the main reason the town is in this mess.” Him and that warehouse.
“It was a gamble,” Kevin said defensively. “A risk taken in good faith.” In his eyes, his father could do no wrong.
Will he feel the same way when I lay off Yolanda?
Will Rosalie?
Everett’s stomach clenched. “We could still land some federal money.” To refurbish the warehouse. “But only if the budget is balanced by January first.” A long shot. “I’ve pitched the warehouse to development companies across the state.” And heard crickets in response. “I’ve reached out to Greeley.” The town closest to them. “If we let go of a fireman, a deputy, and someone at town hall”—they both knew the latter was Yolanda—“they’re open to being our backup emergency service.” If Sunshine’s short-staffed emergency-services crew couldn’t handle the workload. “But we’ll pay a premium.” Still, it’d be less than paying salaries and benefits.
Kevin stared at the proposed budget. “There’s got to be another way.”
“Besides cutting staff and reducing pensions?” Everett shook his head.
“It’s Christmas.” Kevin raised his gaze to Everett’s, blue eyes haunted. “We can’t do this to people at Christmas.”
“You could find someone famous to buy the town.” And when had that ever worked? Never. “That was a joke.” Everett sighed. “It’s probably not the right time for jokes.”
“No, it’s not.” Kevin handed the budget back. “I can’t give you the go-ahead right now. I need a few more days.” Kevin was hoping for a Christmas miracle.
Everett was fairly certain that wasn’t going to happen. He let the reality of the situation settle between them. “Look, Kevin, I know the last thing you want to do is to disappoint people in this town. But…you hired me to be your gunslinger.” To take the heat for the tough decisions that needed to be made. “We have to make more cuts. People who lose their jobs will rebound. The town will rebound. By the time the next election rolls around, no one will remember the layoffs.”
But Everett wouldn’t be around to see it.
