The Single Dad's Holiday Match

by Tanya Agler

  “Does the center have a copy room? What if someone, say an instructor, needs to make copies for a class? Do they bring their own or can they use the center’s machine?” His hazel gaze left little doubt as to his ability on the job. Detail-oriented and observant, he was making an impression on her, and she’d best wrap this up as quickly as possible.

  To Betty, she said, “If anyone except Colin calls, please take a message.”

  Officer Maxwell fell into step beside her until they reached the stairwell door. He opened the door for her, and she started to protest before one look at his face made her accept the small courtesy. “Thank you.”

  In the stairwell, her black heels click-clacked on the cement.

  “Colin’s fortunate to have someone like you in his life.” Jonathan winced and halted in the middle of the steps. “If talking about your husband like that came off as unprofessional during an investigation, I’m sorry.”

  She chuckled. “Colin’s my son, not my husband, and you don’t have to apologize for asking about him. There are times in the past fifteen years Colin hasn’t felt fortunate, but he knows how much I love him. He’s looking forward to making friends and graduating from Hollydale High.” He’d even applied for jobs so he could start saving for a car. For the first time in a while, he’d talked about his friends, including his new best friend, Riley.

  She climbed the next two steps. Then his voice stopped her. “You have a son in high school?”

  “I thought I mentioned him yesterday.”

  “No. I’d have remembered.” He joined her in one step, his broad shoulders standing out more in the narrow staircase. “What drew you to Hollydale? The director’s position or something else?”

  “My aunt Mitzi owns a small business downtown. She told me about this opportunity, and the thought of living near her at long last was too good to pass up, especially since I’ve heard so many wonderful stories about Hollydale.”

  “Mitzi Mayfield? Everyone knows Mitzi. She’s the sweetest woman around.”

  Once again, he opened the door and held it for her. She was used to doing everything for herself, but since she’d been in Hollydale, she found neighbors waving her over to their mailboxes and talking to her. When she walked Daisy, a few had even handed her a welcome card. And last night when she arrived home, her aunt had cooked up a feast of fried chicken, still piping hot and waiting for her.

  Brooke led Officer Maxwell to the small workspace set aside for the instructors. He cleared his throat and motioned to the corner of the hallway, where there was a video camera with a light blinking. “Is that one of the closed-circuit monitors?”

  “Yes, Betty watches over what’s going on.”

  “What if she’s away from the desk or is talking to someone?”

  Brooke folded her arms and shrugged. “If she knows she has to leave, she contacts the youth director, the assistant director or me to take her place. Having these cameras upstairs was part of the system started by the former director. I have other ideas on expanding the scope to the downstairs level as well based on procedures at the previous community centers where I worked. First, I’ll address those concerns to Mr. Whitley. If he approves, I’ll follow up at the next meeting of the board of directors.”

  She opened the door marked STAFF AND TEACHERS ONLY. He craned his neck and looked over her shoulder. “I don’t see a copier in there.”

  “No, but I’d like more information, and the copy room is standing room only where others could hear our conversation. It’s not designed for a serious discussion.”

  More of a glorified closet than a lounge, they could talk in here without anyone interrupting them. The smell of coffee permeated the room. She craved a cup right now. Officer Maxwell motioned, and she entered first. She arched an eyebrow and tapped her heel against the tile. “What brought your investigation here for the second day in a row?”

  The rain colliding with some force against the window accentuated the silence. His sharp glance didn’t faze her. She stood her ground or, in this case, tiled floor. Living with a teenager, she could play the staring game all day.

  Officer Maxwell broke the contact and settled in one of the two wingback chairs that provided enough comfort for someone to enjoy a relaxing read for a few minutes, but that was about it. “An underage juvenile tried to purchase cigarettes at a local convenience store. As he grabbed the ID and ran, he mentioned the community center.”

  She sat across from him. “But once again, there’s no physical evidence the center is involved, is there?”

  He shrugged and leaned forward. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “And I want to keep the integrity of the center intact. That’s why I wanted to talk to you in private, so no one would overhear us. The last thing I want is for anyone to jump to conclusions or hesitate to use our services because they’re concerned about any alleged activity that may or may not exist.”

  She wasn’t sure whether her impassioned plea fell on ears that would care about propriety, but gossip had never been her friend. “I like to examine all the evidence,” he said, “and right now, it’s too early to make any determinations.”

  Satisfied with his answer, she nodded. “What do you want to know?”

  “Returning to my question from downstairs, do instructors make their handouts somewhere other than the center?”

  His presence seemed much larger in this small faculty room than yesterday when they toured the gardens outside. “For the most part, they’ve started attaching the files in emails to their students, who usually use their personal devices for notetaking. However, the teachers can use the copy machine and laminator for their classroom materials if they prefer to personally hand out hard copies.”

  His head jerked up. “Laminator? Can I see it?”

  She rose, and they exited the lounge.

  “This way, and then I’m sure you have somewhere else you need to be.” And soon. His forceful impact touched her in ways she didn’t want to feel.

  She crossed the hallway, dotted with colorful pictures on the walls drawn by elementary school students, and he followed her lead. Entering the children’s library and computer area, she waved to Olivia, the youth director, who stopped reading to a group of students and gave her a quizzical look. Brooke shrugged and mustered a confident smile. Officer Maxwell tipped his hat and said hello to the students, who left Olivia’s side and gathered around him.

  Brooke waited for him to finish answering questions. Then she escorted him to the miniscule back room adjoining Olivia’s office. He reached around her, but she held up her hand and opened the door for him. “My treat this time.”

  He chuckled, and they entered the room, a tight squeeze for one, too cozy for her liking for the both of them. Her awareness of him spiked, including his sandalwood aftershave. The fluorescent lights hummed, as did the copier, which was one of the banes of her new existence along with the good officer. It occupied center stage next to a rectangular table with a caddy containing highlighters, pencils and other assorted supplies. He glanced back at the students already crowding around Olivia. “Can any of them slip away and venture in here?”

  “Those kids are six years old, and there are always two adults watching them.” Brooke shook her head and pointed to the window separating the rooms. “This copy area is off-limits to children, and Olivia is usually either out there or in her office planning youth events. She’d notice if someone, especially a teenager or a kid, was in here unsupervised.”

  “I never said I thought the person behind all this was a teenager, and you’ve admitted instructors can come in here, right?”

  Her first week wasn’t working out quite as planned, and her defenses went into overdrive. She strode to the side of the copier and yanked off the clipboard for his inspection. “Everyone who uses the room signs this, and the copier is password protected. I changed the password myself on Mon
day.” She thrust the clipboard toward him and immediately regretted her lack of composure. Instead, she laid it on the table. “As I’ve mentioned a few times, this is my first week here. This weekend, I’ll review the security procedures and run them by you to see if I’ve forgotten anything. A police officer with your experience should come up with some additional suggestions to my own.”

  “Experience, huh? That’s one way to point out my advanced age of thirty-seven. Thanks.” He jotted more notes. “Is this the room where you also keep the laminator?”

  She crossed over to the cabinet and pulled out the compact device from its shelf. “As you can see, it’s a standard laminator and not the same quality as the ones at the North Carolina Department of Motor Vehicles.”

  “The cabinets aren’t locked, right?”

  “None of the community centers I’ve worked at have ever had locks on every cabinet. Is that all?”

  She’d worked her way up at different centers over the years while she studied for her degree. Why did this man rile her like this? He seemed naturally confident in his job, whereas she’d put a lot of effort into making sure her professionalism shone through.

  “For now. You’ve been a big help.” He donned his cap and adjusted the brim. “Thank you for answering my questions. If you find anything out of place, feel free to call me anytime.”

  That was the second time the good officer mentioned he’d be receptive to hearing from her. Did the offer apply to off-hours?

  Would she mind more if it didn’t?

  CHAPTER THREE

  OFFICER JONATHAN MAXWELL occupied too many of Brooke’s thoughts as she found herself at the doorway of her aunt’s salon, A New You, on this late Saturday afternoon. The cop’s charming smile was already imprinted on her memory. He was a conundrum. He presented himself as laid-back, while his police mind seemed razor-sharp and anything but low-key.

  Even more, she liked how he had walked beside her instead of forging ahead or trailing behind. And he listened as though she was more than simply someone with information to share. Was that just his work demeanor? Or was there an underlying connection that could develop between them? As much as she’d like to explore that further, it would be too dangerous to act on her impulse, given how she only had six months to prove herself. Any chance of the center being a beehive for something illegal might give Mr. Whitley grounds to start over with yet another fresh face, thereby ending her tenure before it even began.

  What could she do differently here than at her previous jobs so this one would last? Taking an interest in the personal lives of her employees might be a good start. Standing on the outskirts and waiting for something to happen wouldn’t accomplish anything either. If she wanted to be a part of Hollydale, she had to jump into life here.

  She paused at the door to the salon, her plans for the night up in the air. She only knew she didn’t want to be alone. Brooke hadn’t met many people yet, and Colin was otherwise occupied with his friend Riley, whose parents had invited him on their last white water rafting excursion of the year. Maybe Aunt Mitzi would accept a dinner invitation as a thank-you. Since she wouldn’t take rent money on top of providing meals, she was making it almost impossible for Brooke to search for a home of her own. In the best way possible, that is.

  The bell on the door jingled, and a pleasant herbal scent greeted her. The steady hum of the hair dryers was a melody in itself. Last Christmas, Colin had presented her with a gift certificate to her favorite spa or salon with money he’d earned mowing lawns. It had been the best present ever, and her visit the day before her college graduation ceremony might have been the last time she’d indulged herself. The crowded salon told her she’d have to schedule far in advance for a pampering evening.

  A girl whose eyes were rimmed with black eyeliner smiled from behind the reception desk and rose to her feet. “Hi, we’re already booked for the rest of the day, but I’d love to schedule an appointment for you for another time.”

  “I’m just here to say hello to my aunt.”

  “Oh, you must be Brooke. I’m Ashleigh. I work here part-time when I’m not in school, and my dad’s dating Mitzi.” She settled back on the stool. “When you’re ready to avail yourself to your aunt’s amazing services, you can call directly or download the new app I designed.”

  Brooke touched her dark hair she’d thrown up into a messy bun this morning. She’d been aiming for sophisticated. Now she worried about whether she’d succeeded.

  Mitzi ducked out from behind the frosted glass partition and gestured at her. “Brooke, honey, come on back and meet a dear friend of mine, Tina.”

  Brooke joined her. “I’ll see you later if this is a bad time.”

  “You’ll do no such thing.” Aunt Mitzi bustled over to her workstation. “Surprises are the icing on the cupcake of life. I guess that means I’m the surprise filling inside.” She laughed at herself and patted Tina’s shoulder. “I crack myself up sometimes.”

  “That’s why we all love you.” Tina smiled and bit her lip as she stared at the bottles of nail polish on the shelves. “Deciding on a new color is a big decision since you said I can’t go with my usual Pink Pearl.”

  “I talked Tina into a manicure before I trim her hair. She’s going to look bee-you-ti-ful for her date with her husband, Drew, tonight at Dominic’s. It’s a romantic Italian restaurant that overlooks Lake Pine with a sensational view of the Great Smoky Mountains.”

  “We’re celebrating my third year in remission.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Brooke walked over to the display. “May I suggest a fiery red or a passionate purple?”

  “You’re your aunt’s niece all right.” Tina pulled a bottle of each off the shelf and shrugged. “I can’t decide.”

  “Go with your gut instinct, darlin’. That usually works for me. Why don’t I shampoo Fabiana and talk to my niece while you mull it over?” Aunt Mitzi turned to Brooke. “I’m all yours for a couple of minutes, unless you’re here for me to perform my magic on you.”

  Brooke spotted a customer she recognized and said hello.

  Mitzi had collected her next client by the time Brooke caught up with her. While she stood a good six inches taller than her favorite aunt, Mitzi’s exuberance made her seem larger-than-life.

  Brooke noted the charming shampoo station, with a row of sparkling ebony sinks and fluffy towels, which took center stage.

  Aunt Mitzi checked the water temperature against the inside of her wrist. “Fabiana, did I introduce my niece, Brooke?”

  “Huh?” The spraying water masked any further response.

  Brooke stayed away so she wouldn’t get wet.

  Aunt Mitzi shampooed Fabiana’s thick curly hair, turned off the water and plucked the top towel from the stack. “She’s the new community center director.”

  “You’ll have to visit my home one evening and try my ropa vieja.” Fabiana held the towel to her hair.

  “Oh, Brooke, you haven’t lived until you try Fabiana’s flank steak with black beans and vegetables. Just thinking of it adds an inch to my waistline.” Mitzi patted her ample hips and guided the other woman to a chair. “Fabiana, you’re in great hands with my best stylist, Luanne, while I check on Tina.”

  Fabiana settled in Luanne’s chair, and the stylist with short pink hair raised the petite customer to a better height. Aunt Mitzi headed back to the manicure area, and Brooke followed. A yo-yo didn’t move back and forth this much.

  “Saturdays are always a whirlwind,” Aunt Mitzi said. “To what do I owe this pleasure, honey?”

  “I’d like to take you out to dinner tonight. My treat.”

  Aunt Mitzi came over and patted her arm. “Wish I’d known about that offer sooner. Owen’s picking me up for a night on the town.”

  Brooke liked what she’d heard so far about this new man in her aunt’s life. She only had misty memories of her aunt’s fir
st husband, who’d abandoned her many years ago. Somehow, Mitzi had rebuilt her life while Brooke’s mother faded away before succumbing to chronic liver disease. Since Brooke arrived in Hollydale, she couldn’t miss the glow on Aunt Mitzi’s face whenever Owen’s name came up, although she had yet to meet the elusive Owen Thompson.

  Tina thrust a bottle of cherry red in Mitzi’s direction. “This one. I’ll be daring for once. You’re rubbing off on me, so I’ll brag on your boyfriend for a minute. He was a great help at the center today.” She faced Brooke. “My son, Caleb, worked for him before he accepted a job with the nature conservancy.”

  “Are you talking about Caleb Spindler? He was one of the people who interviewed me online during the director search committee.”

  “One and the same. I work for his wife, Lucie, as her bookkeeper.” Tina watched as Mitzi buffed her nails. “I still find it hard to believe I’m a grandmother to twins.”

  After living in Houston, where she went weeks without running into anyone familiar, this small-town closeness, where everyone was related to someone, seemed a throwback to the days when she and her mother had lived in a tiny hamlet. Was moving here a mistake or the balm she needed?

  “Well, I wish more of the men in town were like Caleb and less like...” Brooke halted, for she wasn’t quite sure what she thought of Officer Maxwell, only that she was thinking of him way too much.

  Aunt Mitzi kept her hand on Tina’s while she faced Brooke and winked. “Less like who? Has some lucky guy caught your eye?”

  “Romance. You can never ever go wrong with that. Hollydale has a particularly romantic gazebo in the town square.” Tina’s blush almost matched the color of her nail polish. She looked at Mitzi. “Drew proposed to me there. Where are you and Owen going tonight? I’m wondering if we’ll bump into each other at Dominic’s.”

  “He’s taking me to the Timber River Bar and Grill, and I have my dancing shoes all picked out and ready to go.” Aunt Mitzi kept a steady hand while applying the polish. Brooke should have left, but female friendship had been something sorely missing in her life. Aunt Mitzi brought out a blow dryer and aimed it at Tina’s nails. “Brooke, honey, I’d love to see someone bring a little more happiness into your life, and you never answered me earlier. Is there someone for you in Hollydale? Has some mysterious man caught your eye?”