All He Wants for Christmas

by Lisa Plumley

  “People who are ‘sorry’ don’t generally chuckle.” Danielle clutched her caramel latte like the lifeline it couldn’t possibly be, unable to convince herself this was happening. “So you’ll forgive me if I’m skeptical about what you’ve told me.”

  Maybe, she thought, she could bluff her way through this. It could happen. Chip was pretty out of touch. He couldn’t possibly have any real proof of what he’d just told her.

  “Skepticism won’t change the facts.” Chip attempted, even less successfully, to appear sorrowful. “Someone in your store is manipulating the inventory. That is strictly against Moosby’s company policy. It’s an offense that borders on fraud. You, of all people, must know that, Ms. Sharpe.”

  “Actually, I don’t even know you are who you say you are.” Inwardly quailing, Danielle nonetheless managed to put on her toughest demeanor. “There are reporters here for the Christmas Carol Crawl. People from local newspapers and TV stations like to cover Kismet as a special-interest story this time of year.” She gave him another doubtful look. “For all I know, you’re just an overambitious reporter who’s fishing for a story.”

  As the Christmas Carol Crawl continued around them, showing off Kismet’s kitschiest, friendliest, most holiday-loving side, Chip frowned at her. He seemed surprised that she’d argued.

  He showed his teeth. “I like your gumption, Ms. Sharpe. I knew I would. I thought you’d recognize my voice from our phone calls, but since you didn’t . . .” He flipped open his wallet. “See?”

  It was him. Of course. Oh no. Danielle’s heart pounded. Her vision went hazy. But she leaned closer and pretended to examine his ID anyway, all the better to keep up her cover story.

  “We believe one of your sales clerks is the instigator in this fraudulent activity,” Chip went on. “Gigi Marchand?”

  Danielle gawked, her head swimming. No. Not Gigi. She couldn’t let her friend take the fall for what she’d done.

  Danielle swallowed hard. “This is hardly the time or place to discuss this, Mr. Larsen.” With effort, she added as much crispness as she could to her voice. “If you’d told me you were coming to town, I could have made arrangements for you—”

  “The kind of ‘arrangements’ you made for Jason Hamilton?” Chip shook his head. “Your little house isn’t that big.”

  She was too flabbergasted to continue. How did he know about that? How did he know about the size of her house ?

  Had Jason let slip that information? She hadn’t known he and Chip had been in contact with one another. If they had—if Chip had told Jason what she’d been doing with the store’s inventory—it wouldn’t look good for her.

  Staunchly, Danielle tried to rally.

  “No. Not those arrangements,” she said smoothly. “That was a one-time thing, of course. But at the moment, I’m in the—”

  “Middle of this goofy Christmas Carol Crawl thing. I can see that.” Benevolently, Chip nodded. “But this might be your only opportunity to interface with me about this. If you’re saying this event is more important to you than your job—”

  It was, Danielle realized. Because it was important to Karlie, Aiden, and Zach. They’d really been looking forward to attending this year. But that was insane. She couldn’t feed and clothe her children with holiday songs and Christmas cheer.

  “—then I guess I misjudged you. That’s my fault.”

  “No, my job is very important to me. It’s just that—” Danielle broke off, desperately searching for another avenue. “Do you have any proof of this inventory manipulation?”

  As she voiced that audacious question, her voice shook. This is it. I’ve gone too far. I’ve been caught.

  Strangely enough, she felt oddly connected with Jason in that moment. He’d transgressed, too. He’d had to face the music, too. With Chip Larsen as the smug, frankly smarmy conductor.

  That couldn’t have been any fun. Where was Jason, anyway?

  Danielle had no time to look around for him. Because Chip chose that moment to thrust his cell phone toward her.

  On its screen, a video was playing. A video that clearly showed Gigi in the snowy alley behind Moosby’s toy store, with Danielle’s trusty clipboard in hand, overseeing one of their frequent inventory switch-overs with the other regional stores.

  Seeing it, Danielle felt her heart sink. This really was it. Gigi had been caught, and Danielle was responsible.

  The only good news was that the other store manager’s face wasn’t visible on camera. Because of the cold, he was bundled up in a hooded parka while transferring clearly marked Moosby’s inventory from her store’s back room to a truck destined for his.

  At least, Danielle thought dismally, she hadn’t gotten any of the other participating regional store managers into trouble.

  “This is a very serious offense,” Chip was saying. “I’m the chairman of the board of Moosby’s. I don’t show up for every incident of stealing, cheating, or rule-breaking.” He chuckled again. “If I did, I’d spend my life on a damn plane.”

  He was right. His presence there was unusual.

  “I came here because I like you,” Chip went on in a conciliatory tone. “I came here because I got the sense that the two us”—he gestured smarmily between them—“we see eye to eye.”

  He’d probably gotten that impression because of her. Because she’d assured Chip that she agreed with him about the need for Jason to apologize. Maybe wrongly, she thought now. Because Chip Larsen was, honestly, kind of creepy.

  Still, facts were facts. Chip had incontrovertible proof of what she’d been doing. Maybe he’d been right about the things Jason had been doing wrong, too.

  “I came here as a courtesy,” Chip went on, sounding annoyed now—probably because Danielle hadn’t found a way to reply yet. “A courtesy to the manager of our model Moosby’s store. I wanted you to be the first to know, Ms. Sharpe, so you wouldn’t be caught off guard. So you wouldn’t bad-mouth the company when you didn’t get the promotion you wanted.”

  Promotion? Who was worried about that? She was about to be fired. Danielle frowned, suddenly struck by something troubling.

  “How did you get that footage?” she wanted to know.

  Did Chip have a spy in her midst? Was it Henry? Another employee? Edna Gresham? She had retired suddenly after years of reluctance to do so. Maybe Chip had bribed her to spy for him.

  Or, Danielle thought dismally, it might have been Jason who’d gotten that footage. He’d been at the store without her, “working” on her computer. He was the newcomer in their midst. He was the one who had a good reason to placate the board.

  Maybe spying for Chip had been Jason’s real mission in Kismet all along. If that was true, it was no wonder he hadn’t shown any interest in apologizing for the racy photo incident with Bethany. He’d made other arrangements with Chip Larsen.

  “Come now, Ms. Sharpe. You can’t be this naïve,” Chip said. “I have ways of getting what I need. Hamilton must have told you that about me.”

  “Where did you get that footage?” Danielle repeated stubbornly. “Because it’s obvious you’ve been spying on me—”

  “Spying on you?” Chip laughed as he put away his phone. “Did that look like you in the video? It’s Gigi Marchant. She’s the reason I came to this godforsaken frozen burg.”

  “No.” Danielle fisted her hands. “It’s not Gigi. It’s me.”

  A head shake. “I know what you look like, Ms. Sharpe, even if you don’t recognize me. Hell, the whole world knows what you look like.” Chip attempted another woebegone look. “It’s just too bad that the Internet is so damn fickle. It’s a shame.”

  Feeling increasingly mixed up, Danielle frowned at him.

  “I mean it’s me,” she specified. “It’s me who’s done the inventory manipulation, not me in the video. It was all my idea. Not Gigi’s. She didn’t even want to do it! I made her do it.”

  Chip didn’t seem convinced about that. Or even particularly interested. He glanced fixedly
over her shoulder, his attention caught by something else. Moosby’s security team, maybe?

  Oh, God. She didn’t want to get arrested in front of her children. If Jason was there, if Gigi was there, maybe they would take care of Zach, Aiden, and Karlie. Her hands trembled.

  “You can’t punish—” Gigi, she wanted to say. But Chip interrupted before she could defend her friend.

  “You? Sure, I could.” Chip transferred his gaze to her. He looked her up and down. “You think that because of your . . . special relationship with Hamilton I’ll make allowances for you?”

  “No! Of course not!” How did he know about that? “I—”

  “Because you’ll find, very shortly, that Jason Hamilton doesn’t have any influence with the company he used to run.”

  Used to? Utterly confused, Danielle did what she could to salvage the situation. “If you’ll let me explain, I can tell you exactly why I did it. I can tell you why it increased sales!”

  Chip gave her another munificent look. “You misunderstand me. I’m not here to bust anyone for this inventory scheme.”

  “You’re not?”

  His smile beamed. “Of course not! We need out-of-the-box thinkers like you at Moosby’s! I thought you were upset because Gigi Marchant was getting all the attention—”

  “All the . . . attention?”

  “—not to mention the promotion you’ve been gunning for—”

  “You read my e-mails? My memos? My résumé?”

  “—because of her innovative inventory control,” Chip said, “but if that was all your idea, then the promotion is yours.”

  “Mine?” Danielle gawked at him, her heart pounding.

  This was some kind of bizarro world, where rule-breaking was rewarded, cynicism was applauded . . . and chairmen of the board arrived in person to bestow riches on the worst wrongdoers.

  “Yours,” Chip confirmed. He reached for her hand, then gave it a shake. “Thank you for your contributions, Ms. Sharpe. We’ll be in touch to give you the details about your new position.”

  Astounded, Danielle wobbled amid the hectic Christmas Carol Crawl hubbub. Her dream had come true. She’d won. In the most unlikely way possible, and against all reason, she’d won.

  She’d won by breaking the rules. This was crazy.

  Chip was . . . happy because he believed she was scheming?

  “You had me going there for a minute,” Chip said with a final grin and a shake of his head. “The look on your face when I told you about the inventory stuff! You seemed completely freaked out.” He cozied up uncomfortably close to her. “I’m glad I wasn’t wrong about you, Ms. Sharpe. Don’t worry—with me, you don’t have to worry about toeing the line or pretending to be nice. Next time you think someone else is getting the job you want—like Gigi Marchant might have today, for instance—you feel free to go for the throat. I won’t stop you. I like a fighter.”

  Then Chip chuckled again, shook her hand again, and left.

  Danielle was still staring after him, feeling dumbfounded and perplexed, when Jason came into view. Just at the edge of the town square, he hunkered down in front of Zach—who, on Danielle’s orders, had taken his white peppermint drinking chocolate to a bench in front of the enormous Christmas tree while she spoke with Chip. While she watched, Jason explained something to her son. Zach nodded. Jason smiled. A few seconds later, Zach cooperatively got up, tossed Danielle a grin, then went to join Aiden and Karlie . . . with Gigi and Henry? What the . . . ?

  That was weird. They hadn’t planned any babysitting today.

  On the other hand, seeing Jason round up her kids and place them in Gigi and Henry’s care wasn’t half as weird as what had just happened during her encounter with Chip. Knowing that only one person in Kismet could shed any light on the situation, Danielle tossed away her unwanted latte and headed toward Jason.

  Having gotten Zach securely settled with Gigi and Henry, Jason finally turned to his next and most urgent task: Danielle.

  He glanced up, saw her coming straight toward him, and stopped short. To his surprise, Danielle looked . . . cautiously cheerful. But completely confused. And undeniably shamefaced, too. All at the same time.

  What the hell had Chip told her?

  Whatever it was, it couldn’t possibly have reflected well on him, Jason knew. Even so, he kept going toward her. Partway there, he nodded toward a semiprivate spot near a credit union that wasn’t open for the Christmas Carol Crawl. Danielle caught his lead and met him there under a municipal Christmas banner.

  Maybe he’d been wrong about Chip, Jason mused as he looked more closely at Danielle. Maybe his chairman of the board wasn’t gunning to have Jason replaced anymore. Maybe Chip hadn’t even recognized Danielle, Jason pondered, and they’d been having some sort of casual, stranger-to-stranger conversation. After all, he hadn’t known she was the Moosby’s manager when he’d arrived.

  “You’ll never believe what Chip just told me,” she said.

  Okay. There went that hope.

  But at least Danielle didn’t seem mad. That was good.

  Knowing that the best defense was a good offense, Jason jumped right in. “Whatever it was, it was probably a lie.”

  She looked puzzled. “He promised me a promotion.”

  “He did?”

  “Try not to sound so surprised. I’m qualified.”

  “I know you are. It’s just that—” Jason stopped. He tried to regroup. “I thought Chip was here for something else.”

  I thought he was here to ruin my future with you.

  Danielle glanced away. “Well, he was here for something else. Sort of. He was here to give my promotion to Gigi.”

  “To Gigi?” Perplexed, Jason studied her. “But she doesn’t want to be promoted. She likes it here with Henry.”

  The same way he wanted Danielle to like it there with him.

  “I know. But it turns out the qualities Chip is looking for in his executives aren’t exactly what I thought they were.”

  She seemed downcast about that. Also a little . . . guilty?

  “He doesn’t like brilliance, innovativeness, and hotness?”

  “I’m not joking about this.” Her gaze skirted away from his, then back again. “Haven’t you talked to him? Didn’t he”—Danielle shifted uncomfortably—“show you anything?”

  This was it. Briefly, Jason was tempted to pretend that #sleighride and #truelove were breaking news to him, too.

  But he was a better man than that. So he squared his shoulders, looked straight at Danielle, and said, “He didn’t have to show me anything. I already knew.” He paused. “It was me,” he confessed. “I’m the one who sent that footage to Chip.”

  Danielle narrowed her eyes. “You sent it?”

  “Only as a way to show him how much I’d changed!” Jason swore, wishing he’d never sent Chip that sleigh-ride footage from the B&B. He stepped closer, needing to make her understand. “I did it partly because you thought it would be a good idea.”

  “How could I? I didn’t even know you had it!”

  “You told me again and again to make peace with the board,” Jason reminded her. “You told me to ‘feel free’ to ‘use’ you!”

  Danielle’s expression told him that she remembered their conversation on the way to the Galaxy Diner, all those days ago.

  “Not that way,” she said. “Not by betraying me!”

  “I never meant to betray you,” Jason promised. “All I wanted, when I sent that sleigh-ride footage to Chip, was to buy us more time together. That’s it! I thought if he saw how much I’d changed, how much I enjoyed being with you and the kids—”

  Danielle went absolutely still. “Sleigh-ride footage?”

  Jason paused. Something wasn’t right here.

  “With me and the kids?” Danielle specified.

  What had she just been talking about, if not the sleighride footage? “Isn’t that what Chip showed you?” he asked.

  Danielle seemed reluctant to explain what Chip
had showed her. Instead, she crossed her arms. “I want to hear about the sleigh-ride footage. Because we went sleigh riding together. You, me, and the kids. So if Chip has footage of that, too—”

  “Of that too?” Jason couldn’t help asking. “Did Chip show you footage of something else?” he persisted.

  “Nice try. You sound very convincingly confused.”

  “I am convincingly confused.”

  “I’m not. If you think I’m not smart enough to figure out what’s been going on without Chip filling in every last detail for me, you’re wrong,” Danielle said heatedly. “Tell me what the sleigh-ride footage was. Then we’ll get to the . . . other footage.”

  Her unaccountably piercing look confused him.

  “I’m not the one who sent the most recent footage,” Jason hurried to assure her, assuming that’s what she meant by “other footage.” “All I sent to Chip was the first batch.”

  Danielle’s jaw tightened. “There were multiple batches?”

  She had to know that. They appeared to be talking about at least two of them. “I know it seems bad,” Jason began, “but I—”

  “You’re damn right, it seems bad!” Danielle paced a few feet away and then back again, obviously too irate to listen to him explain the specifics. “I don’t care how many ‘batches’ you claim you’re personally responsible for—”

  “Wait a minute.” He didn’t like her tone. “Claim? I’m telling you the truth.” Belatedly, sure. But even though he’d made a few mistakes, his integrity was still rock solid.

  He still hated to be doubted. Especially by her.

  “—one batch is too many!” Danielle persisted, not listening to him. “You know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t want my kids photographed without permission.” She paced again, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you’d think I was fine with Chip creepily poring over images of Aiden, Karlie, and Zach!”

  Oh hell. Jason’s self-righteousness faded. Slowly, he said, “Chip wasn’t the only one who saw that sleigh-ride footage.”