What a New Year's Eve

by R. E. Laurel

  ***

  Maren rushed to work, slowing down to share her morning ritual words with Jim and to get her huge cup of steaming coffee before going on her hurried way.

  “That was a great movie last night,” Belinda announced as Maren entered the office, taking a sip of coffee. She shrugged out of her coat to put on a wooden hanger and put on a wooden hall tree.

  “Yes. It wasn’t at all bad. I loved the book better, though.”

  “That’s because you don’t like going out. Did you realize how much of a stick in the mud, you were until we became friends?” Belinda asked with a teasing grin.

  “As in?”

  “I don’t think that you went out very much. Instead would only go to work and then home. And that is not good for a person.”

  “I don’t mind being alone. Really, I don’t.” Maren argued, kicking her boots from her feet to slip them into black pumps.

  “Hey, I love those boots,” Belinda complimented, bending to retrieve one of the knee-high taupes suede leather boots to study.

  “Cuff boots. They are so warm. I bought them here last night.”

  “I need to check them out.”

  “Getting back to your discussion. I go out,” she defended herself as Belinda returned the boot next to the other one.

  “Not very often. I’ll bet that I only have seen you date a man maybe ten times in the past seven years since we have met!”

  “Are you now my mom? She seems to be keeping track too.” Maren lightly commented, taking her seat to sort through some mail.

  Belinda braced her hands on the edge of the desk, leaning down to face her friend. She waited until Maren’s dark eyes looked back. “Maybe we’re a bit concerned?”

  “About what?”

  “You being alone...”

  “Maybe you should be concerned about you being alone. I don’t see you dating!”

  “But I have been asked out. As a matter of fact, we’re going out to dinner this evening.”

  “Well, hurray for you,” Maren scoffed, returning her attention back to her mail. “Anyway, I like things just the way they are. Me and Mr. Whiskers are quite content. Men only make your life more complicated and complication is the last thing I need.”

  “Mr. Whiskers,” she scoffed, adding, “Maybe my friend has a friend?”

  “Forget it Belinda but thanks for your concern.”

  To mark the end of this conversation, Maren stood to walk out the door towards her department with Belinda following, scanning her reports for the day. The elevator stopped on the first floor and the ever-present Christmas music met her ears. The doors slid open to much louder joyful music. Suddenly feeling a bit disgusted she idly glanced around at the customers already shopping. She couldn’t get over the abundance of people. And, that was good, she told herself. It will help to hopefully keep her job.

  Putting on her cheerful greeting to the public face of a practiced smile and polite voice she went to stand behind the corner counter in the department. Once again, a row of returned merchandise that had been tried on and rejected hang on a metal rack. Turning away from them, she proceeded to check the in-stock merchandise and pricing.

  “Good morning, Miss Wilson.”

  Maren kept her eyes looking to the paper, but she stopped writing the inventory. A slight, undeniable tremor slipped up her spine like cool satin sliding across the heated bare skin. It was quite a new experience for her, causing her to catch her breath to briefly hold then release. Then, it came again. The voice a pleasant, rich timbre playing cruel games with her senses.

  “Good morning Miss Wilson?”

  Her head was slow to lift upwards so that she could look at whoever spoke her name. She was surprised as she recognized the same man appearing to watch her yesterday. She was caught completely by surprise at the incredible pale blue eyes gleaming with mischief, surrounded by long dark lashes, shadowed beneath arched eyebrows. His face was squared with a medium refined length nose, quite dashing with a little boy quality. And his smile was slightly crooked, showing a slight dimple on his cheeks. Dimples that could positively become deep crevices should his smile broaden.

  Her wondrous gaze slipped to his medium length layered brown hair. The top was slightly spiked and covering his forehead, the back just brushing the collar of his white button-down shirt where a gold tie was flawlessly knotted at his neck. Or maybe it could be one of those clip-on types. No, he would have the kind to tie. The sound of his eloquent voice shook her from her open perusal where she felt the heat from an uncommon blush to rise to her cheeks.

  “Miss Wilson?”

  Her eyes widened. Embarrassed. Obviously, he saw how she looked at him. “Yes, um, good morning...” she began until she fumbled the clipboard. With trembling hands, the board dropped onto the floor. Quickly she bent to retrieve it. She failed to see him bending until they hit their heads.

  “Ow!” She winced, rubbing her forehead. Standing, she saw him rubbing the top of his head as he stood. “What are you doing?”

  “Victor Montgomery,” he easily replied deciding to use his middle name as his last name instead of revealing his real identity. “I was bending to get the clipboard for you. I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

  “I’ll be fine. Thank you for your chivalry, Mr. Montgomery, it’s a pleasure to meet you. How did you know my name?” Maren paused removing the clipboard from his hand to again study his rather handsome face. She watched his expression as he casually spoke with her like he had known her for years.

  Victor grinned, finding her innocence stimulating, refreshing. “I read your name tag.” He chuckled with a nod at her chest.

  Maren felt herself slightly relax. Of course. What man would do any research to find out a name? “Please forgive me. I was so engrossed in my reports.” Her eyes locked onto his lips, as a rare image of him kissing her dare to tease among her thoughts.

  “I’m sorry if I startled you. I just began working here ah as a manager.”

  Her eyebrows shot up with his announcement, immediately changing where her thoughts strayed. She went into a mini survival mode at the ridiculous thought of hiring new employees during a buy-out was in progress. Especially, she knew from past experiences they often meant getting rid of current workers. She thought they were downsizing! “Yes, I’ve noticed you as you were walking around. You say you are a manager?”

  “Yes. In the men’s department.”

  “Already? I mean...” she quickly corrected, hoping that she wasn’t sounding disrespectful but then didn’t care.

  He folded his arms across his broad chest. “Does that surprise you?”

  She looked directly at him and truthfully answered. “Yes because of possible cutbacks, and why, I don’t understand because we are doing so well.”

  Victor nodded, his smile erupting and damn, didn’t those dimples form deeper crevices.

  Despite the annoyance of a new employee when others may be losing their jobs, Maren couldn’t refrain from returning his grin, fighting the instinct of wanting to touch his face.

  “I was transferred from New York City,” he politely explained, absolutely taken by surprise with her most pleasing voice and alluring smile, when she did smile.

  “I was going to offer you any help should you need it, but I may be underqualified.”

  He watched her plum color lips as she spoke, wondering about the softness he knew they would be in a kiss. He laughed, “I would appreciate any help I can get, thank you.”

  “Maren, I need to ask you something,” Belinda interrupted.

  Maren didn’t miss her silently watching them as she repeatedly hung the same three shirts over and over, waiting for them to end their conversation. She hoped Belinda didn’t miss how irritated she had become during their conversation. Maren, always the one with the last word didn’t know what to say!

  “Excuse me...”

  “Maren. What a different name.”

  “It’s a hand me down from my great-grandmother four times remov
ed.” She repeated the story she so often listened to her grandmother tell. “Excuse me.”

  “I like it,” he muttered to her retreating back. “It’s different. Very different.”

  With the grin still on his lips, he turned to make his way to the men’s department.

  “Who was that?” Belinda demanded, her smile barely spreading on her lips.

  “Victor Montgomery. He is the new manager of men’s fashions. Figure that one out, would you?” Maren scoffed with disbelief.

  Belinda’s gaze followed him then slid back to Maren. “He is a very attractive man. Don’t you think?”

  “Yes I do, but I’m not interested. Besides, there’s a policy about dating co-workers.”

  “Oh, so you have thought about it?” She teased.

  Maren’s eyes widened with absolute absurdity. Her lips slightly parted with the most unheard of remark ever to come from her dear friend’s mouth. She gave her head a brief shake.

  “No. I have not thought about it. I just now met him for the first time!” But her eyes lifted to risk a quick glance in the direction the charming Mr. Montgomery walked. Mentally she noted the way his proud shoulders swung with powerful dominance and his strides were just as indisputably sure of his masculinity.

  And he most certainly exhumed masculinity.

  “I couldn’t miss how your face had such a cute little blush when he spoke to you,” Belinda teased, laughing at the now redder blush spreading on Maren’s cheeks.

  “It was the red glow from these stupid Christmas lights reflecting onto my face,” she stated. Suddenly feeling oppressive heat sweep over her. “Excuse me,” she muttered as she walked away from the uneasy feeling also swelling through her. What in the world was happening to her? Is this from simply talking to him? Are these reactions from his nearness? It’s from the hit on the head. That made more sense. Surely not from his mere nearness, she scoffed, needing a breath of fresh air.

  Striding past him, she dared risk a glance and found him looking over his clipboard, preparing to do his job. His boyish yet very masculine, very handsome face seemed to brighten the area. He was enthusiastic with his co-workers, easily setting them at ease. His smile was sincere. Suddenly he glanced their gaze connecting. He did a quick wink and a grin at her. Her smile curved her lips as she slowly turned away.

  “Oh shit, he saw me looking at him,” she muttered while walking away from him.

  His laughter was rich, reaching her ears to send her spine-tingling, and he attacked the customers like a hawk to a rabbit. He was not about to let a sale slip through his grasp.

  She kept her eyes cast away as she hurried past him. She failed to see him turn with her departure still smiling as he rubbed his head from their earlier headbutt but he thought about those eyes as dark brown chocolate as the best money could buy. Boy, could they tell a story with her expression? They went from startled to irritation back to sincere. Her smile was wide, her pert nose on that round face perfect and he could already tell she spoke her mind.

  Blunt.

  He found Maren Wilson, cute and contagious.

  CHAPTER 4

  The next morning proved to be another gray clouded overcast day. A light dusting of snow fell and blew in mystical wisps down the paved streets and sidewalks as wind gusts picked up. Maren had a rough night with the undeniable charming Victor Montgomery constantly invading her dreams. Like now, he was filtering into her thoughts. His baby blues, charming dimple-cheeked smile, sexy, yes sexy voice. She fought to forbid that pleasure to creep into her brain. Not now. She had much more to dwell upon, the main issue is her job.

  She hurried to work and as usual stopped to get her morning cup of coffee. With a huge smile, she approached Jim and the hot dog vendor’s cart and was taken off guard when she spotted Victor Montgomery standing there. It was almost as if he waited on her. He was amicably chatting with Jim, not acting as though he were in any hurry to get to work. Pausing, she fought the scowl of annoyance she felt drape her face.

  “Why,” she muttered. “Why do I have to see him the first thing?” Her smile quickly curved her lips when he looked up, catching her standing there, watching. Picking up her pace, she walked to receive her morning brew.

  “Good morning, Maren,” Victor joyfully greeted as he handed her a cup. “Large with French Vanilla and six sugars.” He waited as she tugged off a mitten to delve into her purse for her wallet. “What are you doing?” He questioned.

  “I’m paying for it,” she countered.

  “No, it’s on me,” he strongly returned.

  “No really. I can’t...” she argued.

  “Accept a cup of coffee? You really can’t accept a cup of coffee?” He mused, noting how serious she was.

  “I can but let’s try, I won’t,” she snapped, the irritation evident in the tone of her voice.

  “Oh. Do you have something against me?”

  “Yes, no. Perhaps.” She snapped, the irritation sounded very evident in her tone of voice.

  Jim quietly stood watching the battle of words between them. He never in the years he stood here had ever heard or seen Maren act like this towards anyone. He quirked an eyebrow at them before a broad smile lit his aged face. He was in the presence of a beautiful beginning of a possible relationship.

  “What are you finding so damn amusing, Jim?” Maren impatiently demanded, holding out the money for him to take for her coffee.

  With a gallant shrug, he cautiously returned, “I’m afraid to say.”

  “Here Jim,” Victor stepped closer, brushing her arm down as he held a fifty in his hand. Here is enough for both of our drinks and extra for a tip for you having to endure her stubbornness.

  “Stubborn! Who are you calling stubborn? I’ll let you know that I am not stubborn!”

  “If not her stubbornness then let’s call it, oh I don’t know. How about her immaturity for permitting me to buy her a simple cup of coffee? And you want to know what else?”

  “I’m still afraid to say,” Jim quipped as he enjoyed this encounter.

  “I’m going to say. She is damn cute with her eyes turning darker with irritation and that hat thingy on.”

  “Hat thingy! You don’t even know what this is and you’re in charge of the men’s clothing department.” She ridiculed his choice of words to describe what she wore.

  Victor stood his full height of just over six feet tall to glare down at her medium shortness. He knew that the correct way to handle this would be to just back down. He knew he should just walk away and let her have the final word in this discussion, but she was being too pervasive with her continued taunts. Finally, he spoke through his clenched jaw in a condescending voice as he struggled to control his anger.

  “Oh, let me not be too obtuse. That oversized knit slouchy beany. Have a fantastic day, Miss Wilson.” He abruptly ended as he spun on his heels to stalk away.

  “Of all the nerve.” Maren watched him leave with a look of disbelief while her mouth slightly dropped open. She really wasn’t too sure just what transpired between them. “Was I really that rude?” She asked Jim.

  “He was being polite,” Jim dared to offer.

  “For some reason, I just knew that you would say that. Men do seem to stick together no matter how wrong they are. Good day, Jim.” She narrowed her eyes in a scathing glare as she retrieved her cup. After also giving him money, she turned to follow in the direction Victor hurried towards.

  ***

  Victor burst through the door of his outer office, ignoring the secretary and her alarmed expression. He brushed past her and then stormed through the equally heavy wood door to enter the sanctity of his office. With a vicious swipe of his arm, he easily slammed the door closed. The harsh attack on the door shook the wall. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to find Stan already there, seated behind his desk. He noticed a tiny stack of papers in a neat pile waiting for him as he tore off his coat to throw the helpless article of clothing onto the floor only to be followed by his black and blue striped s
carf and black gloves.

  Stan immediately saw the anger creasing Victor’s face causing him to quickly vacate the chair. He stepped to the right as Victor swooped onto the seat. In a loud long groan, he sat forward, placing his elbows on the desk to hide his face behind his hands.

  “Bad morning or a rough night,” Stan queried taking the chair across from Victor.

  “She is such an intolerable little bitch.”

  “Mom?”

  “I wish it were her this time.”

  “Oh really.”

  “How the hell can one woman, one damn cute woman be so obnoxious. So intolerable.”

  “You already mentioned that word,” Stan commented as he fought a grin at the glare he received through splayed fingers that still covered Victor’s face.

  “So incorrigible. So self-centered. So cute. Damn, she’s cute.” Victor finally stopped ranting long enough to uncover his face and sit back feeling so exasperated and exhilarated at the same time. This is a first for him he realized as he finally calmed down enough to relive this morning’s meeting with Maren. Women never argued with him and he enjoyed it.

  “Yes, and you seemed to have used that word a few times, too. Who is cute?”

  Victor glumly shook his head, his thoughts wandering to a pair of dark chocolate colored eyes as she gave him such a look of impatient, no-nonsense superiority. Damn, but she is cute.

  “Never mind who.” He added deciding to get to work but knowing she was in this same building, no doubt on the same floor in her office, made him want to go and watch her, how she walked; handled people; smiled; laughed. Shooting Stan a look of pure mere disgust, he repeated, “Never mind who.”

  “Well, now that that is out of your system, let’s begin with this morning’s emails I printed off for you, shall we?” Stan briefly pointed to the papers still situated in front of Victor. “Then, if you desire, we can return to the problem you’re having.”

  “What’s this?” Victor wondered, briefly leafing through the papers. He smirked as his eyes caught the word released. “Oh nice one, old man. It’s not good news that’s for sure. And this week is Thanksgiving.”