Holiday Sparks

by Taryn Elliott

  He swiped his thumb down the tree in his tattoo. “Christmas is alive and well no matter how awful things get.” Her dark-green eyes softened and she opened her mouth to say something but he lifted his hand. As she said, it was her place. “I’ll have them down tomorrow. Do you mind if I enjoy them tonight?”

  She nodded slowly. “One night.”

  “Sorry to inconvenience you.”

  She snapped her stepladder shut, averting her eyes. “Thank you,” she said softly and slipped inside.

  Ben collected the clips off the deck and stuffed them into his pocket. It had been an unusually bitter month on the all-around. His niece was wrapped up tight with a shoulder harness thanks to a bad fall from her bike. So instead of the art lessons he usually used to keep her occupied, she was moping around his shop, Luna Hart. With any luck she’d get the sling off before Christmas.

  His brother was working extra hours to pay for her medical bills, which made Brittany even more bratty. And he’d just dented his savings to buy updated equipment for the shop, so he couldn’t help.

  Putting up a bit of Christmas cheer had calmed him. Now he’d have to bring the lights over to the shop instead. It didn’t exactly suit the tattoo parlor, but Cesar would have to deal with it.

  And maybe he could finally get Brittany to smile. She liked to order him around, and getting her involved in the decorating would distract her.

  He gathered the white lights that sagged from the awning and took them down because now they just looked stupid. He worked quickly. Thanks to his height and Darcy Tucker’s rampage there were only a few left. He wasn’t sure why she’d taken them down on his side first. He shook his head. Now the house looked as though it was winking. He made a mental note to add that into his programming ideas.

  It was too bad Darcy Tucker was so unhappy about Christmas.

  She sure was pretty under the twinkle lights.

  * * * * *

  Darcy watched the flicker and flash from her bed. Icicle lights divided the large picture window overlooking the cul-de-sac, ruining her favorite view. Gingerbread-perfect houses and well-tended lawns lined up perfectly. Her neighborhood was crisp and clean, so unlike the places she’d grown up in. Her mother had done the best she could, but each apartment had been worse than the last.

  She’d worked hard for this view. To be able to afford her own house and her own lawn, her own space that wouldn’t be taken away.

  She wouldn’t feel bad about Ben Hartley and his Christmas lights, darnit.

  Even if they did make beautiful swirling patterns on her creamy duvet. Ben’s lights were a pristine white, not the ugly neon cast of her childhood.

  She rolled over and closed her eyes against the lights and the memories. She needed to sleep.

  When she woke to her bleating alarm it was still dark. She groaned and drew her blankets over her head. Back-to-back twelve-hour shifts were taking their toll. In the warm cocoon of blankets, her eyelids grew heavy. Before she let herself fall back to sleep, she flipped her covers back.

  The room was dark save for the cool blue numbers on her alarm. Ben must have put the lights on a timer, or shut them off well after she’d drifted off. Her toes hit the cool floor, dragging her the rest of the way into consciousness. She stumbled down the stairs for coffee and a bagel.

  It was too early to focus on her to-do list. Instead she opened her laptop. A notice from her mother’s Facebook account made her smile. She spent a few minutes clicking through pictures she’d posted from her latest cruise. Her mother had finally found love last year and James Fontana spoiled her rotten. It was about time her mother had someone to show her that life didn’t have to be all about work.

  She clicked open the adjoining message and could hear her mother’s voice in her head as she read about the ports and all the people they’d met. Her smile faded as she skimmed the last few lines. They were going on a couple’s cruise for Christmas. They knew how busy she’d be for the holiday rush.

  Her bagel suddenly tasted like cardboard.

  It was fine. She’d be working the entire time anyway.

  It would save her the rush after Christmas Eve closing. She never got out of there on time. And because she didn’t have a spouse and children she was always drafted to work that night.

  It was better this way.

  Darcy closed the lid on her laptop and glanced at the clock. She was behind schedule. Routine and a lifetime of early mornings kicked in. She was ready and in her car twenty minutes later. Just as she was about to back out of the drive, she looked up. The simple Japanese Maple she’d planted when she’d moved in was the only thing still lit. The delicate branches were strung with tiny white lights, creating a soft glow. The simple loveliness reminded her of a night light for the neighborhood. In all honesty her house didn’t look so bad. And if she left a few of the lights up she wouldn’t have to listen to Carly and the Homeowners’ Association for the entire season.

  Practical.

  “Shitake mushrooms.” She dug out a block of sticky notes from the bottom of her bag, scribbled a note and hopped out of her car. Ben had obviously spent a lot of time on the display and it was stupid to make him take it all down. She tiptoed up the steps to her tenant’s side of the porch and stuck the note to his inside door. Before she could change her mind, she rushed down the steps and to her car.

  The drive to work was uneventful. Everything besides retail was uneventful at a little after five in the morning. She parked her car at the edge of the parking lot and bundled herself against the wicked wind that had picked up overnight. Today definitely felt like a November day in Massachusetts.

  Blackstone’s Department Store was a few miles outside North Easton. A lot of people who worked in Boston lived here. They still did a steady business thanks to the ease of shopping. The T was great for quick trips into the city, but when people had a haul of Christmas shopping to do it was much easier to do it in the suburban outskirts.

  She jammed her hands into her pockets. She’d lost her gloves—again. Blackstone’s was an anchor store to a massive strip of shopping centers. The parking lot was large and without cars to break the wind, her cheeks and neck were frozen halfway across the blacktop.

  She waved to her fellow department manager Kelly Brennan, who held the door open for her.

  “Hiya, babe. Cold enough out here for you?” Kelly’s bright-blue eyes danced above the fat knit scarf that covered half her face.

  “Five a.m. is inhuman in the winter. I went to bed it was dark, and it’s still dark,” Darcy muttered.

  “Just think, we might get to see an hour of daylight after shift today. Miracle!”

  “After the day I had yesterday, I doubt it.”

  Kelly winced. “I heard about the tree and that customer.”

  Surprised, Darcy adjusted the strap of her purse. “How’d you hear?”

  “Text from Jaime. She felt so bad, Darc. If that stupid Tom had come up like he was supposed to then he would have had to deal with it.”

  “Yeah, well, if Tom had to deal with it then there might have been punches thrown. That man was no joke yesterday.” She rubbed her hands together. “I felt really bad for him. His daughter fell off her bike, so he was truly just upset about that.”

  “Yeah, but what did he actually think would happen when he brought it in?”

  Darcy sighed. “I don’t think he was thinking.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Between the cops and the tree it was bedlam.” Darcy shook her head as they hustled down the hallway at the rear entrance of Blackstone’s. “The lights pulled free and fritzed out, singeing a few of the branches.” For a split second she’d wished the tree had gone up in flames.

  No, not really. Okay, maybe a little, but then again dealing with a fire would have been a lot worse.

  “I can’t believe he took out the tree. I always miss the good stuff.”

  Darcy laughed. “I just wish it hadn’t been when Black Widow was on,” she said under her breat
h.

  “Oh man. Jaime didn’t tell me she was on last night.”

  “Yep. It wasn’t pretty. I didn’t get out of here until nearly seven last night. Then I go home and find my house lit up like Christmas on an acid trip.”

  Kelly laughed. “You are terrible. I don’t know anyone that hates Christmas more than you do.”

  “Yeah well, unfortunately I lost my cool with my tenant last night and now he knows. In detail.”

  Kelly bumped the employee break room door open with her butt. “You didn’t.”

  “Oh, I did. You should have seen his face.” She looked down at her bag, fussing with the zipper. She felt bad about laying into him. He’d been shocked and possibly a little amused that she hated Christmas. People who weren’t in retail just didn’t understand how bad it could be.

  “I don’t think I’ve met your tenant.”

  Darcy sighed. “He was perfect. He pays his rent on time and I never hear a peep out of him. Well, until the holiday music came blaring out of some speaker he had set up under the porch. Kel, you should have heard the songs. It was awful.”

  Kelly snickered. “I can only imagine.”

  “I think I would have handled it better if I just hadn’t had to deal with the Black—” She stopped as Kelly’s blue eyes widened. “The Blackstone’s store catastrophe,” she said quickly.

  “I’m still not happy with the tree, Ms. Tucker. I’d like you to concentrate on that with Mr. Anderson this morning. The store must look perfect. My parents are coming in tomorrow and the decorators aren’t available to come back and redo the tree before Friday.”

  Darcy hung her head. More tree crap, and with her favorite manager. Perfect. “Absolutely. I’ll take care of it.”

  “I want it to be classic and fun. Santa will be coming in for the children all weekend.”

  “On Black Friday weekend? Are you insane?” Shut up, Darc. But that was the worst weekend even to contemplate doing something like that. People would be tripping over themselves for the sales, not bringing their children in for Christmas pictures.

  “The directive came from my father, Ms. Tucker. I want this store perfect.” Miriam left the room, her stilettos clicking over the sandstone tiles.

  “Are you crazy?” Kelly tugged her into a chair. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  “I can’t believe they’re doing this for Thanksgiving weekend. Are they out of their minds? It’s going to be chaos in here.” Darcy gathered her hair away from her face with the hair tie she always had on her wrist. Putting her hair up before six a.m.? It was not going to be a good day.

  “I know,” Kelly sighed.

  “Deep breath,” she muttered and stood. “And now I’m off to deal with Grabby Gary.”

  Kelly dragged her in for a hug and patted her back. “Stab him with your box cutters.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” she said with a laugh. She swiped her badge to log in for the day and hit the floor. Darcy was responsible for the front end and the jewelry department officially, but at Blackstone’s titles meant less than their words. She’d worked every department in the twelve years that she’d been with store. And gearing up for Black Friday meant all hands on deck. The only good thing was that it would go by quickly.

  She waved to the cleaning crew who were buffing the floors as she headed for the front end. The store didn’t officially open until eight and there was plenty to do before then. She opened the cash box door with her badge. A brunette of indeterminate age sat at the long metal desk, candy-apple-red kitten glasses balanced on the tip of her nose. A half-dozen cash drawers were stacked and ready for the cashiers. “Morning, Mo.”

  “Hiya, sweet cheeks. How goes it?” Her fingers never paused over the calculator keys and the rubber tipped thumb on her other hand flipped through receipts.

  “Another day of eternal bliss.”

  Mo snapped her gum with a grin. “I don’t think your definition of bliss and mine are the same. Mine? Daniel Craig kidnapping me for a secret assignment.”

  Darcy shook her head. “Your bliss definitely wins.”

  She took her mini-tablet from the slot and signed it out, then looked over the schedule loaded. One thing she did like about working for the Blackstones was the toys. Miriam had upgraded them from walkie-talkies to a network of handheld computers. She smiled at Mo on her way out the door.

  “Remember, Daniel Craig doesn’t have security clearance for back here.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  Darcy laughed and tapped through the various screens, noting that there were no callouts so far, but the day was still young. Her feet knew the store by heart, so she continued to look through the day’s schedule while she walked.

  “There’s my gorgeous Darcy. How you doin’, kid?”

  Darcy’s easy smile tightened. “Morning, Gary.” Shock and dread roiled in her stomach, her smile long gone. “What did you do with all the decorations I had on the tree?” She’d worked for an hour to get them back on.

  “Miriam took them down before I got in. She said it looks too much like a Hallmark card. Which, if you ask me, is the point of a department store tree, but what do I know?”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” And that was a first.

  He moved closer, his arm brushing hers. Hugo Boss cologne assaulted her nostrils and made her eyes burn. Did he bathe in it?

  “She wants us to put these up instead.” He toed an open case of lights. “I don’t understand them myself, but what do I know, you know?”

  Obviously not much—you know? She took a step to the side and away from his aura of cologne. “These?” She flipped the top box and groaned. A listing of typical songs made her want to weep. She unearthed the end of the string and plugged them in.

  Instead of the real songs, a horrible electronic facsimile of Come, All Ye Faithful filled the air. It sounded like a sample from a Casio piano that her mother had given her one Christmas. She’d lose her mind if she had to listen to that for the next month.

  Gary leaned into her. “See, they play tunes. Pretty cool.”

  Darcy leaned away and set the lights down. She ignored the hovering Gary and looked up at the fifteen-foot spruce that they’d had delivered the week before. It still had a root ball that would be planted along the side of the store in the spring. Very green and very PR of her boss. The heavy ceramic pot was hidden by a huge red skirt with a fluffy white cuff.

  It was lovely. Truly. And as much as she hated Christmas, she didn’t want those tacky lights ruining her store.

  All she could think of was her neighbor and his ingenious, if annoying, display. Now that would make a statement. She looked at her watch, then at the tree again. “I’ll be right back.” She headed to the back of the store where Miriam’s office was and knocked.

  “Come!”

  She squelched the need to roll her eyes. Imperial decree, how comforting. “Ms. Blackstone, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment?”

  Miriam looked at the slim gold watch on her wrist. “I have a few minutes.”

  “I was thinking about the tree. The lights you chose aren’t exactly Blackstone material, if you ask me.”

  Her eyebrows rose as she sat back and steepled her fingers. “Oh, really?”

  With an inward wince, Darcy kept going. “No, I think that once you saw them on the tree and heard the unfortunate songs, you’d feel the same. I was wondering if I could check in with a…friend of mine. He might be able to help us out.” Now that she was actually in Miriam’s office Darcy wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but she forged ahead. It was too late to back down now. “He’s done a neighborhood display that’s quite impressive.”

  Miriam tapped her lips with her scarlet-tipped nail. “How impressive?”

  “My homeowners’ association is fairly taken with him and he loves Christmas.” Darcy’s voice strengthened. Surely she’d be able to get Ben Hartley to help her. If she begged. And allowed him to keep his display up on her house—if a little more…tempered. She t
ucked a strand that had escaped her ponytail around her ear. “Since we have an abundance of managers on right now I could go back to my house and be back within forty minutes.” She’d probably wake him up. “At most an hour.”

  Miriam nodded. “You were here late last night, I think that would be fine. I appreciate all you did to salvage the tree. What is this person’s name?”

  “Ben Hartley.”

  Miriam slid her tablet in front of her and typed quickly. “Make sure all the receipts go to Maureen in the cashier’s box. Normally I’d make sure to hold you to a budget, but this has to be handled as expediently as possible. Within reason, Ms. Tucker. I trust you.”

  It took all the power she had in her to not to let her mouth drop open. Did the Black Widow just tell her that she’d done a good job? “I appreciate that.”

  “Well, don’t just stand there.”

  Ahh, there she was. Darcy resisted the impulse to snap a salute and turned on her heel. She checked her watch. It was barely seven thirty. She was tempting fate with this scheme, but there was no way she’d be able to pull off a Blackstone-worthy display on her own. Maybe she could take half the rent off as a Christmas present. Her bank account could handle a one-month hit.

  She sent a quick message to Gary’s unit to leave the display alone and to cover for her per the boss’s decree. She lengthened her stride and gathered her things, stashing her tablet in her locker before signing out. Now she just had to figure out a way to convince Ben Hartley to be her Christmas savior.

  Chapter Two

  Ben pulled the pillow over his head, trying desperately to ignore the incessant buzz of his alarm. He flung his hand out but it wasn’t his alarm. He squinted at the clock. “That better be 7:50 p.m.,” he muttered.

  The shrill ring of his doorbell finally scraped at his consciousness. “Fucking fuck.” Whoever was leaning on it as though it was their job was going to pay. He’d been up sketching until after three. And it was his goddamn day off. He fumbled out of bed and nearly walked down the stairs before he remembered that he slept in the raw.