All I Want for Christmas is Big Blue Eyes

by Claire Ashgrove

  No one said he had to tell her the taxes were paid.

  He started his Mustang, dropped it into reverse, and eased into the street. Almost noon—he’d spent too long lounging in bed. Throwing it in first, he stepped on the gas and sped west on South Street toward Eleventh, and the Las Carratas Mexican Restaurant where Sandra had suggested they meet when he phoned on his way to town.

  Mexican wasn’t his favorite food, but it would do for this afternoon’s purpose. Hell, he’d eat frozen pizza over a card table just to have the basic design presented so he could finish his work and put the matter aside. Although, with his current inability to keep his hands off Amanda, his initial plan of finishing the blueprints in record time didn’t seem quite as sound. No way would he be able to hole up and forget the world around him with her moving about the house. Or Emma pitter-pattering around.

  Josh nosed his car into the crowded lot and parked, grabbed his notebook, checked his inside jacket pocket for a pen, then entered the dim roar of voices and the engulfing aroma of spice and peppers. He wore only faded blue jeans and a dress shirt beneath his fleece-lined coat, but standing amidst the town’s comfortably-dressed residents and a handful of rugged farmers, he felt out of place. Overdressed. Obvious. The several heads that turned to inspect him didn’t help.

  He scanned the seated guests and let out a little sigh of relief when he spied shocking red hair spilling down a slender back. Sandra. She was the only redhead in the full dining room.

  “Can I help you, sir?” a youth he didn’t recognize asked.

  “No, thanks. I’m meeting someone.”

  Josh maneuvered through the crowded floor to the booth near the window. “Sandra?” he asked at her elbow.

  Surprise touched her features as she turned around. It vanished quickly, morphing into joy. “Josh!” She jumped to her feet, tossed her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. “It’s so good to see you! You don’t look a bit different than you did before you left for college.”

  He smiled at her flattery. It was fake, just like the smile that spanned across her face but didn’t touch her eyes. It didn’t surprise him. Sandy hadn’t known the meaning of sincerity ten years ago—why should she now?

  “Good to see you too, Sandy.” Sliding into the seat opposite hers, he set his notebook aside to pick up a menu. Looking was habit. He already knew what he’d order before he turned the car off. Cheese and onion enchilada’s—they were the only option he really liked.

  When he’d taken ample time to peruse the menu, he laid it on the edge of the table and opened his notepad.

  Sandra met his gaze, signaling to the waiter. Her green eyes glittered with a touch of amusement, their bright light matching the flash of her gaudy, oversized wedding ring. Same old Sandra—hungering for status. What had computer-geek Pete Rodgers done with his life to convince her into marrying him? Struck oil?

  “What can I get for you, sir?”

  Josh quizzed Sandra with a slight frown.

  “I already ordered. I was craving a margarita.”

  With a nod, Josh gave his order to the waiter, completing it with a bottle of Coors Light. When the lanky lad disappeared, he turned his attention back to his companion. “So we’re building a strip mall, right?”

  “I’d like a brick façade, can you do that?”

  “That’s no problem.”

  Sandra hauled a slim briefcase on top of the table and flipped open the clasps. She produced several slender file folders along with a spiral-bound notepad before she closed it and set it on the seat. “Here are all the things I think you’ll need. This one,” she said as she tapped the topmost file. “Contains the dimensions of the property and my rough sketch of what I’d like it to look like.”

  He opened the folder. Rough was right. Olivia’s new puppy could probably draw better. But despite the terrible quality and the lack of straight lines, Josh could see the general outline. Approximately the depth of a football field, a parking lot spanned the length of her property line. Twelve doorways looked out onto the blacktop, each marking the entrance to a rental space. She’d drawn elaborate rooftops, or what he assumed she intended to be elaborate, and on the backside, she wanted additional parking.

  “This…” She slid a blue-tabbed file in front of him. “Is how I thought we might incorporate your property.”

  Peeking inside, he held in a chuckle. She’d merely drawn three large boxes, joining more buildings and parking lots. It would connect to hers and create an ‘L’-shaped complex since his property ran perpendicular to hers. All told, however, a twenty-four-shop project held substantial promise.

  She waved a folder flagged with a red tab under his nose. “And this one has a list of local and out of town businesses that have already signed agreements to rent space upon completion of the project.”

  Curious who she’d convinced into this incomplete idea, he thumbed through the contracts. One in particular caught his eye—Target. Given the layout she’d presented, the large chain store would sit on his property. If Target were willing to anchor the mall, it was a sure-fire success in the making. The rents would allow the both of them to retire within five years, if not sooner.

  “Impressive,” he murmured.

  This time, her smile lit her eyes with pride. “It’s nothing without the plans though. All those papers aren’t worth more than the stock they’re written on if we don’t have a building.”

  The waiter interrupted, setting their lunch down in front of them, along with Josh’s beer. Josh took a long swig, then pulled out his pen. Scratching hastily over his notepad, he fleshed out a quick design for the storefront he pictured. Finished, he turned the paper around. “Like so?”

  “Oh, that’s perfect!”

  Josh took a bite of his food, chased it with another swallow of beer, and spun his tablet back in front of him. “Who’s building?”

  “I have a crew,” she answered between bites of her taco salad. “A regular company I use, based out of Kansas City.”

  Chances were, he knew the builder. “Who?”

  “Donnegal and Neimyer.”

  “Brent works for you?” Brent Donnegal had worked with Josh on a dozen different projects in the last five years.

  Sandra nodded. “He recommended you.”

  So that explained why she reached out through the telephone.

  “Brent’s a good guy. He won’t delay you once we get this finished. Let’s talk about the inside.”

  With a soft laugh, she asked, “Don’t you want to eat first?”

  “I can’t. I have some shopping to do.”

  Her eyes shifted, her lashes lowering a fraction as she tipped her chin down ever so slightly. “We could discuss it…later? Where you’re staying, so we have some privacy?”

  It took a minute for her innuendo to register. When it did, Josh laid his pen down, and slowly leaned back. Some things never changed. Sandra was one of them. Pete must really be blind. Of course, he’d fallen all over himself every time she walked by in school. Poor fool probably had no idea what affairs his wife had.

  Locking his gaze with hers, Josh answered, “I’m staying with Amanda.”

  Her features washed white. In a blink, color filled her cheeks, and her gaze narrowed. “Still rutting in the same old field? I thought you’d have more of a sense of adventure with your city roots.”

  Josh ground his teeth together, calculating his response before he opened his mouth. When he spoke, he didn’t raise his voice, but he left no room for misunderstanding in his firm reply. “This is business, Sandra. My personal life is not, and has never been, any of your concern. As I told you years ago, I’m not interested.”

  She tsk-tsked with a shake of her head. “Such a shame. Oh well, I’d rather have your designs anyway. I brought along a contract.”

  “Let me see it.”

  She fished through her briefcase once more and produced a stapled stack of heavy white paper.

  He
sifted through the paragraphs, comfortable with the legal-ese. Nothing he hadn’t seen before and quite standard. It resembled his own a great deal. What this one left out wasn’t worth pursuing. With an affirmative nod, he scrawled his name over the bottom.

  Sandra penned hers as well. The agreement struck, she tucked the document inside another file folder. “I’ll make a copy of it and get it to you when we meet again.”

  “That’s fine. Now, let’s talk about the interior.” He glanced at his plate. Lunch was getting cold, but he’d already wasted over a half-hour. Anxious to commence his shopping, he ignored the plate.

  ****

  “Hey, Amanda? I’m going to call in an order for lunch and go pick it up. What are you in the mood for?” Janie called from the shop’s front room.

  Amanda stilled over her arrangement for the fifth time in an hour. This time, she had a legitimate excuse instead of losing her concentration to thoughts of making love to Josh this morning. She should have had it finished an hour ago, but couldn’t find her enthusiasm.

  “Let’s close up for lunch. I need a break.” More like a good reason to be distracted, but at least the excuse sounded good. “What do you say about Las Carratas?”

  “Oooh,” Janie cried as she stuck her head through the door. “I haven’t eaten there in a long time. I could go for some spice.”

  Amanda picked up the blooms she’d pulled from the cooler and dropped them in a tall bucket of water. “Spice sounds good. Maybe I’ll find some energy with a little zing in my belly.”

  She picked up her purse and keys and joined Janie behind the front desk. With a bright smile, Janie locked the register drawer. Though nine years younger, they had an easy-going, almost friendship. Janie never hesitated to share all the details of her life with Amanda. While Amanda didn’t confess near the detailed information in return, she shared enough that their relationship crossed the lines between regular employee-employer relations.

  “How’s Dan?”

  “An ass.” Janie rolled her eyes as she opened the front door. “He’s got it stuck in his head that I want season tickets to the Chiefs for Christmas. So we can have quality time together on a consistent basis.” She let out a snort.

  As Amanda locked the front door, she tried not to laugh. Janie liked shopping, movies, days at the spa. In fact, on more than one occasion Janie had ranted an entire afternoon about Dan’s insistence to sit in front of the television all Saturday for college football. Five years her senior, Dan couldn’t leave his college days behind.

  Janie continued to vent as she climbed in Amanda’s passenger seat. “Do you think he’d be jumping for joy if I bought him a massage package with a facial? I think I ought to. We could trade. He can have his damn tickets, and I can have my afternoon of pampering.”

  Snickering, Amanda eased out of the parking lot and headed around the block to the Mexican restaurant. “I bet he’d get the hint.”

  “Amanda?” Janie pulled her leg into the seat and twisted to face her. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, but I don’t want to offend you.”

  Her tone didn’t imply Amanda would like what Janie was about to say. Subtly tightening her fingers on the wheel, she gave her a sideways glance. “What about?”

  “Well, Dan says I won’t need to work when we get married in February. He’s doing real well at work and is up for management this quarter. But I don’t like the idea of not having anything of my own.”

  Amanda stared straight ahead, sensing this was going to relate to Janie’s hours in some way. Please, don’t let her ask for extra hours.

  “I finished the flower shop’s books for last month, and I know what I’m costing you. But I also know these next few months are crucial—especially with Valentine’s right around the corner. Would you object to letting me put in some volunteer hours and setting a salary for me?”

  Sliding her gaze toward Janie, Amanda hesitantly asked, “What kind of salary?”

  A slow grin spread over Janie’s face. “Say half of what I’m making for double the time? I just want my own spending money. Dan’s got the bills more than covered. Besides, I like the shop. I like having a routine.”

  Speechless, Amanda focused on the road. The offer was a godsend. At the same time, accepting Janie’s proposal felt like taking advantage. She deserved more pay than she got. Less than minimum wage was nothing short of an insult for her talents.

  “I don’t know, Janie. It doesn’t feel right. Let me think about it for a while.”

  From the corner of her eyes, she noticed how Janie shook her head. “Just say yes. Say yes, and we’ll forget this conversation.”

  Accept charity from a nineteen-year-old? Could she? She gave Janie an uncertain look, hesitating to respond as she parked her car in front of the restaurant.

  “C’mon, you can do it. Y-E-S. Say yes,” Janie prodded with a giggle.

  Amanda debated. Could she? No, it was just wrong. Still, it wasn’t like she’d asked Janie to take a cut. Janie had offered, and the girl seemed more than excited about it. Amanda needed the help. Particularly with Valentine’s Day coming. If she could get ahead on her bills, after a couple months, she could return Janie to her standard rate.

  Giving in to a faltering smile, Amanda nodded. “Okay. But only if you agree to accept at least your normal wage once I get things turned over on the right foot.”

  “Deal!” Janie thrust her hand out over the console.

  With a disbelieving laugh, Amanda clasped it in a hearty shake.

  “Starting January second, I’ll open the shop and handle the front room all day. That leaves you free to handle the flowers—which I know you prefer.” Janie’s voice held excitement as she leapt from the car.

  Joining her young assistant on the sidewalk, a splash of dark red caught Amanda’s attention. She looked up over the car hoods, taking in the red Mustang. A little thrill raced through her. Josh was here. She’d get to have lunch with him after all. The dreary morning suddenly seemed far brighter, and with a lighter step, she tugged open the restaurant’s doors.

  “There’s someone I want you to meet, Janie.”

  “Oh?” Interest lit her dark brown eyes.

  “Josh.” Standing on tiptoe, she scanned the crowded seating area.

  Janie’s mouth dropped open. “Josh? You mean the Josh I’ve heard you talk to Lucas about?”

  Amanda couldn’t help but grin. “The one.”

  He sat at a window booth by himself, and her gaze locked on him with magnetic force. As if he could sense her, he looked up, his handsome features softening with a smile. He beckoned to them with a subtle wag of his wrist.

  Moving purposefully, Amanda led Janie across the floor to his table and leaned down to press a kiss against his cheek.

  “Hey, baby,” he murmured as his lips brushed over hers.

  “Josh, this is Janie. She works for me. We couldn’t take another minute in the shop. Had to escape for lunch.”

  At that moment, a voice Amanda equated with Satan’s broke through the noisy din.

  “Amanda, how nice of you to join us.”

  Gritting her teeth, she turned around to find Sandra Rodgers, Tyler’s sister, standing at her elbow and wearing a self-satisfied smirk.

  “Hello, Sandra,” Amanda replied coolly.

  To her surprise, Sandra lowered herself into the seat opposite Josh and pushed a stack of papers aside. “We’ll finish business when you’re done, Josh.”

  In the time it took to blink, understanding rolled through Amanda. Her gaze slid over the stacks of paper, noting the words scribbled on the top, Lexington Shopping Plaza. Sandra’s name for her dream project. A project that revolved around obtaining Emma’s inheritance.

  She looked to Josh as her throat closed. In a small voice, she croaked out, “What are you doing, Josh?”

  “Oh, honey, you’ve got to hear what Sandra’s planned.” His expression radiated excitement, his speech came fast and full of deep
respect. “She’s building a shopping complex and invited me to join the venture. I’m designing the mall.”

  “I called him last week. He sure surprised me with his quick arrival.” Sandra’s silky voice crawled beneath Amanda’s skin.

  Amanda gaped. Wide-eyed, she looked to Sandra, shrinking under the weight of her triumphant sneer. Josh was in on this? But he’d said he’d come back…

  Like lightning, Amanda’s anger crashed around her. Josh’s dad’s property joined Tyler’s—he had to know the farmland she’d told him about was the very same property Sandra intended to build her mall on. Had Sandra told him all the details? Or, like the rest of Sandra’s business associates, did he just see the venture for the pure dollars and cents?

  “We’ve agreed to join our properties,” Josh continued. “The financial return is incredible, Amanda. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this.”

  Well, that answered everything. Clenching her fists at her sides, she glared between the two of them. No one, not Sandra, not Josh, not anyone would threaten what belonged to Emma.

  “Janie, I’ll be in the car.”

  Spinning on the heel of her tennis shoe, Amanda whirled about and strode to the exit. If Josh had come back here to build a fortune, she had no intentions of being party to it.

  Seventeen

  Josh stared after Amanda’s departing back. The dark flash of her eyes left no question about her anger, but what the hell provoked it? Sandra? The project? That he wasn’t eating alone? Whatever it was, he’d seen that look of fury one too many times to think anything less—he was in deep shit.

  He snapped his notebook closed as Janie stammered a goodbye. When she left the table, he turned to Sandra once more. “We can finish this later.”

  “It’s always amazed me how Amanda could whistle, and you’d come with your tail wagging. Really, Josh, grow some balls. The woman has more tantrums than a three-year-old.”