“I’ll find the number for you.” Hilda opened a file on her computer and then wrote the phone number on a slip of paper. “She must have been afraid.”
As Paige had sailed past Fleming’s shoulder, every story of workplace violence he’d ever heard had replayed in Jason’s head. His only thought had been to protect her, the innocent bystander who happened to be in his office at the worst possible time.
“I thought I’d offer to meet her somewhere else,” he said.
“That’s kind.”
Jason managed not to laugh. Kind was not a word often used to describe him.
He’d had to make hard decisions before. He normally analyzed a failing business, provided structures and policies for dragging it back into financial profit and then moved on to the next troubled company. He’d never had the slightest urge to work for his father in any of the Macland banks. His involvement now was supposed to be a favor for his grandfather, who’d actually been the one to notice something was going on in Bliss. Jason meant to be in and out, with his report sewn up by the first week in January.
He took the piece of paper. “Thanks, Hilda, and listen, you don’t have to be afraid,” he said. “The guy’s angry with me because I’m the one who told him he got caught.”
“I’m sure a few days in a cell will make him a lot happier.”
“We can hope he’s also cheated any attorney who’s capable of getting him bail. If you hear him coming down that hall again, jump in the nearest closet.”
“I’ve already made that plan.” She turned back to her screen. “You might try meeting Fleming at her shop. My girls and I spend a lot of time there this time of year. The Harrises put on activities for children, and Fleming’s mother makes the best hot cocoa I’ve ever tasted.”
He pushed the phone number into his pocket. “That’s a good idea. I’m curious about a place that sells holiday ornaments all year long.”
Or maybe he was curious about the owner of such a place. The year held other holidays. A smart business owner would consider diversifying. Fleming might be able to use his expertise.
* * *
FLEMING MANNED HER post behind the counter until the last of the pedestrians walking past on the sidewalk had disappeared for the day. The night before Thanksgiving was never busy, but she felt anxious. Bliss had never felt anything but safe until today.
Maybe a few customers would have taken her mind off this morning. Business would pick up on Friday.
Her stomach growled. She’d been so intent on making the store as inviting as her mother had when Fleming was a child that she’d forgotten to eat. The hotel at the end of the courthouse square had been doing a turkey dinner with fixings all week.
If she went to the hotel tonight, she’d probably have leftovers for a sandwich tomorrow, and she could finish making the shop shine by Friday morning.
Fresh eyes, she told herself.
It certainly wasn’t that she felt reluctant to go home alone.
She put on her coat and shoved the warm gloves she’d worn in this morning’s heavy frost into her pockets. She left Christmas lights twinkling in the windows and around the long wooden counter and set the shop’s alarm, then locked up before heading for the hotel.
Outside, the streets were almost empty. Earlier in the week, garlands had begun to go up, but the decorations weren’t yet complete. What with the danger of losing the shop and that Paige guy’s rage this morning, she finally admitted her world felt off balance tonight.
“Fleming?”
Startled, she whipped around. A car passed by. The courthouse bell began to toll. And Fleming laughed because she felt ridiculous. Jason Macland stepped off the curb across the street.
“I meant to call you,” he said. “I’m sorry about what happened in my office this morning. Are you all right?”
“Fine.” She did feel fine now. He’d stepped in front of her with Paige, and now he made her feel safe because she wasn’t alone in the streets. She checked herself. How could she ever be afraid in Bliss, the mountain town that was part of her body and blood?
“How about you?” she asked.
His smile was self-deprecating and frustrated at the same time. “Also fine, except you and I will have to talk again. I’m sorry, but we have to discuss your loan.”
So—not so much concern for her as for his bank. “I’m gathering the information your assistant emailed about.”
“Good. The sooner we settle better terms, the safer your business will be.” Jason stepped onto the sidewalk, towering over her, ominous even if he didn’t mean to be. “I’m trying to get you into a better position before the rules of your loan take over. I can’t help you after that.”
“If the loan wasn’t legal...”
“That’s the problem for all of the people in jeopardy because of Paige. You signed the agreement, so you’re responsible for terms that are immoral, but not illegal.”
She was caught between worrying he was another bank guy trying to play her, and respecting his honesty. If he was being honest.
She turned, continuing toward the hotel, and somehow, Jason remained with her. “Why are you trying to help me?” she asked. “Why do you care?”
“I’m trying to help anyone who still wants to do business with Macland. It does the bank no good to write off bad loans. Especially as many as they have right now.”
They? She glanced at him, surprised.
He looked back at her, unbuttoning his top coat button as if he were uncomfortably warm. “We could bring down the local economy.”
“How did Mr. Paige manage to fly under the radar?”
“The former bank manager was taking a cut.” Jason turned toward the hotel with her, but when she reached for the door he stopped, looking down at her hand.
“I’m having dinner here tonight,” she said.
“Oh.” He looked back at the square as if he wished he’d planned to be elsewhere.
As they stepped inside, Lyle Benjamin, the hotel’s owner, appeared at the top of the cellar stairs, his arms full of wood for the fires that would roar until midnight in the parlor dining room and reception area.
“Not you, too, Fleming?” he asked, glancing from Jason to her.
She blushed, and Jason looked impatient.
“The gossip in this town defeats any need for the internet,” he said.
“Sorry.” Lyle sent Fleming an apologetic look. “Will your mom be home for the holidays?”
“She and Hugh are on a vacation.” A month in a fancy hut in Bora Bora. She couldn’t control a smidge of envy for their carefree thirty days. “But they’ll be back for Christmas.”
“Good to hear it.” He carried the wood to the hearth near his check-in counter and tossed a log into the flames. “Table for two?”
“No.” Fleming flinched as Jason’s voice echoed her own, and they both turned down the opportunity to share a meal.
“I’ll call down for room service,” he said.
Fleming breathed a sigh of relief. She had to create a battle plan. This man wanted his bank back in the black. He might claim he was helping her, but he’d take Mainly Merry Christmas if shutting her down bettered his bottom line.
Copyright © 2016 by Anna Adams
ISBN-13: 9781488009303
Marrying the Single Dad
Copyright © 2016 by Melinda Wooten
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