Christmas Angel

by Regina Duke

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Regina's Books

  Regina's Bio

  CHRISTMAS ANGEL

  by

  Regina Duke

  Christmas Angel

  Copyright © 2014 Linda White

  ISBN 978-0-9858482-7-9

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this story may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from Regina Duke.

  Published by Regina Duke

  United States of America

  Electronic Edition: April, 2014

  This story is a work of fiction and all characters exist solely in the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any references to places, events or locales are used in a fictitious manner.

  Many thanks to my wonderful editor Marian Kelly, and to Vicky Loebel for proofreading.

  This book was formatted for Kindle and Nook by StevieDeInk.

  Cover design by StevieDeInk.

  Cover photo from Fotolia.

  CHAPTER 1

  December 18

  Casual Friday hadn’t started off well for Laura Snow. She knew it was a bad omen when the top button of her favorite jeans refused to close. She lay back on the bed and willed her stomach to shrink as she fought with the waistband. Something would have to give. A few seconds later, it was one of her freshly manicured nails.

  “No! No! No! This can’t be happening.” She growled with frustration and rolled off the bed. She’d have to get her fat jeans out of the dryer. No more time to fight the Battle of the Bulge. She frowned at the term “fat” jeans. Why couldn’t they be called “too much salt for dinner” jeans? She could shorten it to “salty” jeans. She made a mental note to do so.

  Now she had to repair a nail.

  She stood in front of her mirror and decided that she looked pretty good for a woman who was turning thirty. She still wore single digits. Her blond hair was thick and bouncy and curled naturally at the ends if she kept it shoulder length like today. Even her jeans were single digits, although they had hidden elastic in the waistband. Her favorite jeans weren’t her favorites because they were easy to get into. It was the rhinestone pockets and scalloped hems she loved. She held them out to the side and let them drop to the floor. Maybe she could turn them into a purse. Or hire someone crafty to do it. Or, brilliant idea, hire a seamstress to insert elastic in the waistband.

  For now, she had to get to the office. She grabbed her nail repair kit and shoved it into her shoulder bag. Her beige apartment gave no hint that Christmas was a week away. She kept meaning to decorate but had no time. She’d put in three weeks worth of hours in the last fourteen days. She was looking forward to her Christmas bonus. The holidays meant that the radio station at work would be spewing carol after carol, so with a sigh, she grabbed her earphones and dropped them into her bag as well. At least she could listen to something other than Christmas music in her office.

  Once in her car, she saw the note she’d taped to her steering wheel. “Bring Christmas goodies.”

  She banged her fists on the wheel so hard, she accidentally hit her horn.

  “Great,” she muttered. “Now I have to swing by the store on my way to work and buy carbo loads for the masses.”

  By the time she got to the supermarket, her mood and expression were dark. Her patience had left on vacation. She scurried into the store and discovered two others ahead of her in the bakery line. She looked about for a boxed array she could pay for at self-checkout, but no luck. Nothing looked good. Other shoppers had already picked them over. She glanced at her watch. It was already fifteen to eight.

  The smiling lady behind the counter wore a green store apron and chatted merrily with another lady who was way too old to have a job to get to.

  Laura fought to catch her eye by lifting her cell phone and tapping the screen.

  The lady behind the counter frowned. “You want to make a call?”

  Laura rolled her eyes. “The time! I’m going to be late for work.”

  “La-de-da,” said the clerk, still smiling. “Us poor folk still wear a watch.” She lifted her wrist and tapped back at Laura.

  Laura muttered, “If I were your boss, you would be so fired.”

  The man in line ahead of her turned. His voice was a gentle baritone. “You can go next. Will that help?”

  Laura glanced up. “Thank you.” Then she did a double take, riveted. Standing in front of her was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. In fact, calling him handsome gave the word a promotion. He was gorgeous. “Are you a model or something?” She couldn’t stop herself. When she was physically attracted to men, she babbled. Words tumbled out against her will.

  “Nope. Just a dad buying cupcakes for the kindergarten class.”

  She glanced at his hand. A large gold band on his wedding ring finger said it all. Another disappointment.

  “Oh. Well, thanks for letting me skip ahead.”

  The clerk and the retiree finished their conversation. Laura finally got to pick out the treats for her coworkers. She imagined she could feel the heat from the hunk behind her in line. She turned and nearly bumped into him. The heat was real. He was right next to her with his back turned, scanning the boxes of cupcakes on display.

  “Excuse me,” she said, “a little room here?” She could smell his aftershave. Delightful.

  “Sorry. Lost in thought.” He smiled and stepped away.

  Laura was sure she’d seen interest in his eyes, but hey, he was married, and she was late for work. End of story. She paid for her box of goodies and rushed off to her car.

  Four hours later, Laura slumped away from her boss’s office, feeling like her world had ended. Her fellow workers had clearly come in today to exchange gifts and eat from the buffet table. Their festive mood grated on her. She’d added goodies to the table and had looked forward to presenting her completed project, on time as promised. All those extra hours she’d put in should have meant a promotion or at the very least a pat on the head. But instead, she was handed the envelope clenched in her fist.

  It held the Christmas bonus that she’d earned and expected. And a pink slip that she hadn’t.

  She spoke to no one as she returned to her office. Behind her, she heard people saying “Merry Christmas” and “Thank you” to the boss as the cowardly snake slithered out early before anyone learned he’d fired her. She wanted to believe that the news would be met with a chorus of moans and expressions of disbelief. She wanted to pretend that women would weep when they heard she was leaving and men would wear that hangdog look that bespoke the loss of a valued colleague.

  But in reality, she knew they wouldn’t even notice that she was packing her few personal items into a cardboard box while they danced around the Christmas tree.

  She was right. No one noticed. At least, no one but Ginger.

  “Merry Christmas, Laura!” Ginger waltzed in and set a small poinsettia on the corner of Laura’s desk. Only then did she notice the box holding Laura’s clock, calendar, and coffee mug sitting on her chair. “What’s going on?”

  Laura closed her office door. “I’ve been fired.”

  “What?! That’s awful! That’s not fair. It’s the week before Christmas. That’s—” She paused, caught Laura’s sarcastic gaze, and finished with, “That’s exactly what I was afraid he was going to do.”

  Laura turned her hands over.
“Why? I thought he liked me.”

  “He liked flirting with you. But you didn’t play the game,” said Ginger.

  “I was really good at my job.”

  “Too good.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Didn’t you notice how he stopped telling you when his bosses were coming to town? He’s been presenting the work you do as his own.”

  “Well, we’re supposed to be a team, right? Our whole department?”

  “Team shmeam. He didn’t even mention you to them. Beth was there, taking notes, and she told me he took all the credit, twice so far. And you can bet he’s going to do it again, with the project you just turned in. If his bosses found out you were doing the work, they wouldn’t need him. They could just promote you. So he had to fire you.”

  Laura felt like someone had pulled the plug on her soul. Everything she’d ever learned about working hard and being rewarded went up in a poof of emotional smoke.

  “If you suspected this, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I just found out about him taking credit. I was going to tell you right after Christmas. I didn’t want to spoil your holiday with that kind of bad news. Who knew the jerk was going to give you a pink slip before Christmas?”

  Laura fought to keep her emotions under control. No point in breaking down while still in the office. Why give them something to talk about for weeks to come?

  “I understand, Ginger. You thought you were doing me a favor.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Ginger picked up a pen and jotted something down on an office envelope. “Take this. When my friend Shelanne was fired two months ago, she told me this place had her working within three days.” She offered the envelope.

  Laura took it and stuffed it in her bag without even glancing at it. “Thanks.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “No, not really.” Laura took a breath and dug down deep for her last ounce of optimism. “But I will be. You’ve been a real friend to me here. You take care.”

  “Let me know how it goes,” said Ginger.

  “I will.” Laura shouldered her bag, picked up her box of belongings, and stiffened her spine. “Would you run interference for me? Go sing a Christmas carol or something while I sneak out with my stuff.”

  “Sure.” Ginger preceded her out of the office and a few moments later, she was gathering staff around the Christmas tree with a promise of the gift exchange.

  No one noticed Laura leave.

  CHAPTER 2

  Alone in her car, Laura put the key in the ignition and wondered what to do next. She didn’t want to head home in the middle of the day. To do so would be giving herself permission to wallow in self-pity, not to mention the pint of Ben and Jerry’s in the freezer. No, it would be wiser to do something, anything, for a few hours.

  She reached into her purse for her lip balm and her hand brushed the envelope Ginger had offered. She pulled it out and looked at the note.

  “Angel Temps.” The street address was on her way home. Well, stopping off and putting in an application would make her feel like she’d done something constructive to earn her ice cream binge. Why not? If nothing else, it gave her a destination. She coated her lips, started the engine, and drove away from what she’d thought was her best career move ever.

  Angel Temps was a small office in a strip mall. The front window was decorated with lights and a painted Santa. It was flanked by a shoe store and a specialty pet food boutique. If nothing else, she could look at shoes when she was done.

  She tried to pull her professionalism around her like a blanket. Then she remembered it was casual Friday. Hard to look professional in jeans. Oh, well. She might as well fill out some paperwork. She’d dress up if they found her a job.

  A tiny bell tinkled as she opened the door. On the right was a pristine desk with a shiny computer on it. New, if the shipping box in the corner was an indication. On her left was a six-foot Christmas tree, decorated to the max with lights, ornaments, and a few paper angels. Their faces were drawn in with crayons, obviously the work of small children. She glanced about.

  In the back, on either side of a corridor, were rooms with half-glass walls. The room on the left was long and spacious, with three tables facing a whiteboard. It reminded her of a classroom. On the right was an office, but it appeared to be empty.

  “Hello? Anyone here?”

  A male voice from the back replied, “Be right there.”

  Laura moved forward far enough to see that there was another room farther along the hall. A moment later, a man came out of it.

  “Oh, it’s you.” Laura was confused for a second. The male model from the bakery department moved toward her with his hand extended.

  “We meet again.”

  They shook hands.

  “I didn’t know male models got work through temp agencies.”

  The model in question looked puzzled. “Excuse me?”

  “Sorry. I assumed you’re here looking for work, like me.”

  “Oka-a-a-a-ay,” he said cautiously. “I think that’s a compliment.”

  Laura gave him a wry smile. “Yes, it is.”

  “Then, thank you very much. Actually, I’m the Angel on the sign. Jedediah Angel. Call me Jed.”

  “Laura Snow. Are you closed? The door was open, but no one was up front.”

  “My receptionist has a little girl at the same school as my son. We take turns picking them up. She should be back any minute. Meanwhile, what can I do for you? This morning you were rushing to work. So I’m not sure you need me.”

  Was it her imagination, or did she hear a hint of flirtation in his voice? She was generally cluelessness about such things, and according to Ginger that had cost her her job.

  But he was still wearing a wedding ring.

  She said, “At eight o’clock I had a job. By noon, I didn’t. So I’m here.”

  Jed’s brow furrowed with concern. Laura was surprised. The man actually gave a damn.

  “I’m so sorry. Well, you’ve come to the right place. Let’s get you started on some paperwork. Have a seat in here.” He led her into the classroom and selected an application from one of several stacks of paper. He paused. “You’re not in the medical field, are you?”

  “No, why?”

  “Different set of questions. And you’re not wearing scrubs, so I was pretty sure.” He handed her the form. “Take your time. I’ll be out front trying to get that new computer working.” He made a face, then smiled and left.

  Laura zipped through the app. She spent a few minutes on the description of her last job under “Skills and talents.” Within fifteen minutes she was done. She read through what she’d written, then gathered her purse and went in search of Jed.

  He was still sitting at his receptionist’s desk. “All done?” He reached for the application and read through it. Then he tapped the “Skills” section.

  “You’ve done a nice job describing your previous position, but what about other skills?”

  Laura tilted her head to one side. “That’s the kind of work I’ve been doing since college. I’m really good at it. Generating reports, analyzing data, spotting trends. That’s pretty much what I do.”

  “How about people skills?”

  Laura gave a thumbs down sign. “Lousy at it. I was in a Human Resources office once, and they said they were glad I didn’t work there full time. They said I was depressing.”

  Jed looked horrified. “You don’t look depressing to me.”

  There it was again, that hint of flirtation. She shook it off and replied, “They were having a bad day. Software problems, but they thought it was hardware. I stopped in to revise my W-4, and they asked me if I had any ideas. So I sat down and took a look. It was pretty obvious to me that their new hire had messed up badly on some system software, and I fixed it for them. They said I was part computer.” She shrugged. “Useful, but hard to have around.”

  Jed’s brows rose hopefully. “You know your way around a PC?”


  “I’m better with Macs, but I guess I just have a knack for it.”

  “You didn’t write that down.” He rustled her app.

  “It wasn’t part of my job.”

  Jed stood up. “Well, have a seat. See what you can do with this.”

  Laura shrugged. “Sure. I’ve got nothing else to do.” She sat down and started moving the mouse, clicking on systems information, and scrolling down the screen.

  Jed took a seat in the client chair and leaned back. While she worked, he took a pen and began jotting notes on her application.

  Laura found herself in that pleasant zone where she was totally consumed by a problem and everything else faded away. She heard the tiny bell tinkle over the door, but paid no attention. Voices and laughter seemed far away. When she finally had a handle on the problem, she sat up straight and stretched.

  Two hours had passed.

  She looked around. A friendly looking woman with long black hair was sitting at a table in the classroom, coloring with two small children.

  Jed showed up at her elbow with a cold soda.

  “Well? What’s the verdict?”

  Before she could reply, a five-year-old boy galloped in from the classroom and handed Jed an envelope. In giant red letters, a name was scrawled across the front: SANTA.

  “Here’s my letter, Daddy! Don’t forget to mail it.”

  He started to run off.

  Jed touched his curly blond head. “Where are your manners? Say hello. This is Miss Snow.”

  “Hi,” he said shyly.

  “Nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

  “Austin.” He was barely audible.

  “Austin Angel. Nice name,” said Laura. She never knew how to talk to kids, so she pretended they were small adults. “What did you ask Santa for?”

  Austin glanced up at his father, then looked away. “Nuffin.”

  Laura eyed him doubtfully. “When I was a kid, I don’t remember writing letters to Santa that just asked how the reindeer were feeling.”

  Austin giggled. “I asked for what I always ask.” He shuffled shyly and looked up at his dad again.

  “All right,” said Jed. “Go color. We’ll be going home soon.”