A Lot Like Christmas

by Dawn Atkins

  THE NEXT MORNING, Randolph met Sylvie at her car looking worried. “Don’t panic,” he said, when she stepped out, “but there’s been another incident.”

  “What happened?”

  “We took pictures for the police.” He pointed to where Betty was hosing graffiti from the wall. Black water ran across the decorative pebbles and along the gutter. “At least this time it’s water-based paint. Brushed on, not sprayed.”

  Sylvie saw she’d been right about the Dumpster. It had been shoved against the wall. “Was the security light broken?”

  “Yep. And there’s more. Guess what’s on the roof?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “The batteries from both security carts. They climbed the Dumpster to get up there. Plus the cart tires have been flatted.” He shook his head in disgust.

  “Why would they vandalize the carts?”

  “To keep us from catching them probably. But that’s not the worst. That lock I keep saying needs to be replaced? Come here.”

  Sylvie followed him to the door.

  “They tried to pry it open.” He showed her the scrapes on the lock.

  “Where was the night crew, Randolph?”

  “See, that’s where I take full responsibility.” Randolph looked down at the ground for a few seconds before lifting his gaze to hers. “Leo called in sick and I couldn’t stay because I had the girls, so it was just one guy on shift.”

  “So we were understaffed.”

  “If I had Leo’s nephew on board, we wouldn’t have been caught short. With more guards, we’ll catch these clowns. I know they’re just laughing at us.” His jaw clenched with anger.

  It was almost like the criminals knew the mall had been underguarded. They’d also taken her spray paint last time, so they knew the mall’s inner workings to some degree. She didn’t know what to think about that.

  “Can you get the carts operational?” she asked.

  “Maybe, but they belong in the junkyard. I can’t do my job without staff and equipment.” Sweat poured down Randolph’s temples and he looked like he’d lost his best friend. No way had he faked these incidents as Chase suspected.

  “I’ll talk to Chase.” She didn’t look forward to revealing the new crime. More vandalism made the neighborhood seem worse, the mall like it was in trouble, which had been Fletcher’s point at dinner and Reggie Collins’s rant for the newspaper story.

  Sylvie wanted to lock herself into her car and scream with frustration. Who was doing this? Why?

  Chase would have to mention this at the tenant meeting, too. She dreaded the meeting now that she knew what the McCanns were up to. How could she act normal when the tenants might be booted out of their stores in a few months? She almost wished Chase had kept the secret a while longer.

  At least he’d promised to be here early so they could go over the agenda before the meeting. She forced a smile so she wouldn’t alarm Cyndi, Olive or Mary Beth, and headed upstairs.

  The minute she entered the office, Cyndi thrust a newspaper at her. “I marked the story,” she said grimly.

  Sylvie didn’t need the Post-it note to find the photo of a police car beside the ugly scrawl, carefully cropped to not show the first letter of the F word.

  The headline was awful. Councilman vows renewal funds and more police to end crime spree. The story was even worse. Sylvie’s calming quote about Halloween pranks was on the last paragraph and there was no mention of the community meeting she’d offered to host.

  “Damn,” she said. “Damn, damn.”

  “I know it’s terrible,” Cyndi said, “but Mary Beth has some ideas for you. She’s in her old office.”

  Sylvie found her at Chase’s computer. “Mary Beth, this isn’t your office anymore,” she started.

  “I know, but the spare computer is so slow. I just borrowed this until Chase gets here.” She waved at the guest chair.

  “If that’s the case, bring in your laptop.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She gave her old desk a sad look. “Anyway, you saw the story.” She nodded at the paper in Sylvie’s hand. “You should email a strong letter to the editor.”

  “I intend to. I’m waiting to hear back from Councilman Collins about holding a community meeting here.”

  “Did you call the scheduling secretary?”

  “No. I called his office.”

  “That won’t work, hon.” Mary Beth’s smug tone irked Sylvie. “I’ll follow up on that for you, no problem. Let’s offer Tuesday afternoon, since that’s the slowest shopping day and we might make the six o’clock news.”

  “Okay…” Sylvie said slowly, glad of the tip, but not happy about the way Mary Beth seemed to be taking charge.

  “Mention it in your email to the paper and insist they send a reporter to the meeting. They owe us that.”

  “I can take it from here, Mary Beth,” she said firmly.

  “Oh.” Caught short, Mary Beth stared at her. “I’m sorry. Am I stepping on your toes? I didn’t mean to.”

  “I appreciate your advice and I’ll want you to read over the email before I send it to see if I’ve covered all the bases, but you have plenty to do already.”

  “Sure. Of course.” Mary Beth blinked. “I just want you to be glad you took me onboard.” She gave a hesitant smile.

  “I am, but sharing the GM job with Chase is complicated enough, so you and I need to be clear on who’s doing what.”

  “Absolutely. I guess I got too upset about the story. Plus, these attacks. Is it true there was a death threat?”

  “No. Where did you hear that?”

  “Around.” She shrugged.

  “Then I hope you’ll clear up the rumor when you talk to the tenants. You’ll be helping the stores get their coupons together for the scavenger hunt, right?”

  “Right,” she said, saluting Sylvie. “I’m on it, boss.”

  The phone rang and Mary Beth reached for it. Sylvie caught her eye. “Whoops,” she said. “Sorry.”

  Sylvie answered the phone. “Chase McCann’s office.”

  “Is he there? This is Chet Walker.”

  She recognized Chase’s partner’s name. “We expect him any minute.” It was nine-fifteen, so he was already late for their premeeting session. “Can I take a message?”

  “Tell him we need him out here in a hurry.”

  “I’ll let him know.” She wrote down the message, irritated. Chase had promised her his help, but he was late and now had his partner after him, too.

  “A problem?” Mary Beth asked, clearly relishing the prospect.

  “We’ll work it out, I’m sure,” she said. “I’ll get started on my email.” She opened the paper looking for the address for letters to the editor, then noticed a headline: PriceLess Warehouse in market for new Phoenix location. “Wow,” she said.

  “What is it?” Mary Beth leaned closer.

  “PriceLess wants to build another store. We have all that open park space. Why couldn’t they come here?”

  “They could. Savings Club approached us a couple years back, but they decided on Tucson before we even started negotiating. There’s a build-out, from what I remember, and they expect incentives. It’s a lot of up-front cash.”

  “But think of the revenue potential.” Sylvie scanned the article for the official most quoted.

  Five minutes and a Google search later, she had Roger Munford, Business Development VP for PriceLess, on the line. In ten minutes, she had several possible meeting times to run past Chase.

  “Great work,” Mary Beth said when she’d hung up, offering a high-five Sylvie was delighted to slap.

  This could be it, the solution to the threat to sell the mall. Chase said it would be a business decision based on revenues. PriceLess Warehouse was a revenue machine.

  Sylvie almost did a happy dance in the middle of Chase’s desk. They weren’t finished yet. Not even close.

  CHASE TOOK THE STAIRS to the mall office two at a time, late for Sylvie’s tenant meeting
because of his last-minute appointment with the commercial broker, then a lengthy three-way phone call with Chet and Jake Atwater.

  The mall decision would not be easy, he knew now. The broker listed a half dozen potential buyers, including an amusement center, an indoor go-cart track, a physicians group and a charter high school.

  No offer was on the table, and Chase had lots more questions, but the time might be right to sell. The cash would be welcome, he had to admit. Fletcher had been right about that. With his share, Chase could buy into the Portland venture instead of just brokering it, which meant he could pay back his Nevada investors far sooner than with Home at Last in Arizona.

  Personal gain wasn’t reason enough to sell, of course. Chase still had to thoroughly examine the data on the mall’s revenues and potential. Black Friday income would be important, though a high sales price could easily trump that.

  He’d hated how hard Sylvie had taken the news. He wished her the best. He did. But facts not wishes would rule his choice.

  He slipped into the conference room, where the meeting was already underway. At the front of the room, Sylvie stood with one of the red umbrellas over her head, a newspaper in one hand. “Lately we’ve really needed our umbrellas, haven’t we?” She wiggled the newspaper, offering a smile that trembled only slightly.

  “This article grossly exaggerated the vandalism and I’ve submitted a letter to the editor saying as much. You’ll be pleased to hear that next Tuesday we’ll be hosting a community meeting for Councilman Collins to discuss neighborhood concerns.”

  “That’s all nice, Sylvie, but what about the new attack?” The speaker was Talley Toombs, the manager of the department store, Tracer’s. “Security carts wrecked, more hate graffiti, a break-in and a death threat.”

  “What break-in?” someone else said. “A death threat?”

  “There was no break-in or death threat,” Sylvie said over the murmurs of alarm. “Those are just false rumors. Randolph thought someone messed with the lock, but no one got in. We’re working with the police to catch the mischief makers, so there’s no need to panic, Talley.”

  “When people read that crap about crime they’ll shop elsewhere,” said Rose, the hobby shop owner. “What then?”

  Heads across the room nodded.

  “I know you’re worried, but don’t forget ‘A Starlight Desert Christmas.’ I’m sure that will reverse any possible losses.”

  Angry murmurs came from the tenants. They weren’t buying it.

  “We just have to be patient,” Sylvie tried to assure them. “We’re working with the police. We’ll talk to reporters, speak at the community meeting and keep serving our customers the way we always have.”

  “But there is good news,” Mary Beth said, jumping up from her chair beside Sylvie. “Tell them about PriceLess, Sylvie.”

  “That’s really premature, Mary Beth.”

  “Oh, you’re too modest. Sylvie found out that PriceLess is looking for a new locale, so she called them up and they’re interested in coming here.”

  The group made sounds of surprise and approval.

  “We haven’t met with them yet,” Sylvie said. “It’s way too soon to say this will work.”

  “But it’s hopeful?” Theo asked.

  “Like I said, it’s too soon to—”

  “They’re very interested,” Mary Beth said. “Very.”

  Great. This was no time to float a development idea. Chase frowned at Sylvie, who shrugged.

  “So just keep those umbrellas up a little while longer,” Mary Beth said, waving the one Sylvie had put down.

  The tenants applauded, the tension gone, and Chase made his way to the front of the room. “I apologize for being late, everyone, though you’ve been in excellent hands here with Sylvie.” He smiled at her. “I bring greetings from everyone at McCann Development and thank you for your patience during this time of transition. We’re so impressed with what Sylvie’s planned for Black Friday, we let her talk us into being Santa and his elves for the weekend.”

  People laughed and smiled.

  “I’m not looking forward to wearing pointy shoes and green tights, but I’m sure you know how hard it is to say no to Sylvie.” There were groans and oh-yeah’s. “Seriously, McCann Development is grateful to have Sylvie here. No one is better equipped to handle the job than she is and I’m sure Mary Beth agrees.” He waited for Mary Beth to nod.

  The group applauded and Chase joined them.

  “Can Santa get us new air-conditioning?” someone called out.

  “I’d settle for Santa bringing PriceLess here,” someone else said.

  “That’s far too remote for even Santa to speculate about,” he said. “Let’s focus on doing all we can to make this holiday season our best.” He sat down to applause.

  Sylvie took over, going over the Thanksgiving Day staff party and Black Friday preparations. When the meeting ended, he caught her elbow. “Can I speak to you?” He pulled her into his office and shut the door. “What was all that about PriceLess?”

  “It’s new. The VP wants a meeting. Here are his available times.” She pulled a paper from her pocket and held it out.

  “We’re in no position to start negotiations on something like this. You should have talked to me first.”

  “I wasn’t the one who brought it up. And if you’d been here when you said you’d be, we would have discussed it.”

  “That couldn’t be helped.”

  “Is this how you ‘do all you can to help me’?”

  “I got here as soon as I could.”

  “And Mary Beth was just trying to help.”

  “False hope is never helpful.”

  “Neither is doom and gloom,” she snapped, her cheeks pink with anger. “If you’re so neutral, you should be eager to meet with PriceLess. That changes the revenue picture dramatically. Have you written us off already?”

  “Slow down, Sylvie.” He stepped closer, wanting to soothe her somehow.

  “You slow down.” She backed away. “The newspaper story made us look awful. People are scared. You saw Talley fanning the flames. Mary Beth is no help. She spreads rumors with the best of them. I needed your help to settle everyone down and now you’re quashing the one thing that gives us hope—”

  A tap on the door made them turn to see Randolph, clearly embarrassed he’d interrupted their quarrel. “I can come back….”

  “No, no, come in,” Sylvie said, taking a deep breath, clearly trying to calm down.

  “I know you don’t need more bad news, but Leo can’t work again tonight,” he said. “They lost their daytime babysitter, so he’s been watching the kids instead of sleeping.”

  “That’s not good,” she said.

  “Worse that that, the other night guy has his bachelor party tonight, which he failed to tell Leo about. I’ve got my girls and I can’t give that up, not with my ex-wife after full custody. I was thinking we could hire Leo’s nephew and we’d be covered for tonight at least.”

  “I don’t want an untrained person here alone. We’ll have to call the service and hire some temps.”

  “It’ll cost a fortune this last minute.”

  “I’ll do it,” Chase said. “I’ll take the shift.”

  “That’s not necessary, Chase,” Sylvie said.

  “I need to get a better sense of the place anyway.”

  She studied him. “Are you sure?”

  “Just let me know,” Randolph said wearily, shaking his head, clearly not happy with the idea.

  “What is this about?” she asked Chase when Randolph left.

  “We seem to have guards asleep at the wheel whenever the attacks occur. Randolph will give me the rundown and I’ll see for myself just how secure we are. Maybe he’s right. Maybe we do need more guards. I’ll find out tonight.”

  “I don’t know, Chase…”

  “I meant what I said about helping you. You want the tenants to know the McCanns care, right?”

  “Maybe if you spen
d time here you’ll appreciate it more.” She smiled sadly and sank into a guest chair. “We have to stop these attacks, Chase. Our tenants are freaked that we’ll lose customers, and frankly, so am I.”

  He pulled over a chair and sat close to her. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m worried, too. Lower revenues would hurt any sales offer we get.”

  “That’s supposed to cheer me up?”

  “The point is we both want to get to the bottom of this.” She was so pretty, even with her green eyes cloudy with distress. “How are you holding up?”

  “Not that well, judging from the way I jumped on you.”

  “You expected me to be here and I wasn’t. And after what happened between us last night… I’m sorry that I—”

  “Stop. Don’t you dare apologize for kissing me. Besides, I was all over you.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  Her eyes lit as they had the night before and he felt the same urge to hold her, kiss her, fix what was upsetting her.

  “You were right, though,” she said. “Sex would have been a bad idea even before you told me why you’re here. We got carried away talking about old times.”

  “And we have needs?”

  She grinned. “And steam to let off.”

  “Plus, think of the exercise.”

  She laughed, the sound musical and light. He really liked it when she laughed.

  “And what did I babble? A man and a woman going after a climax. God.”

  “You were aroused. We both were. No one thinks straight when they’re aroused.”

  “But that’s all over.” She spread her palms flat, definite. “We put it behind us and go on from here. Forget it ever happened.”

  “I’d hate to have to forget, Sylvie.” The thought of never touching her again emptied him out inside.

  “Anyway—” she shook her head, as if to clear it “—back to business. You’ll still meet with the PriceLess guy?”

  “The build-out would be a huge capital drain.”

  “Let me get some data from him and put together a proposal. There’s no harm in talking, right?”