Christmas Eve Love Story

Ten

That afternoon when Patrice called her in for the meeting, Annie arrived with her replacement package of Christmas lights. Maybe if she cut this meeting even shorter, she’d get to her window display before Dylan and Marcus.

Patrice frowned. “Annie, I’m sorry to have to—”

“Don’t worry, Patrice,” Annie said, preempting her before either of them could sit at the table. “It’s not your fault.”

Patrice blinked. “What’s not?”

“About Ms. Lawson, or my promotion.”

“But how did you—?”

“Foot traffic is down, right?”

“Why, yes.”

“She blames my window displays.”

Patrice pinched the bridge of her nose. “Have you been talking to Carl?” she asked, naming their Human Resources Manager.

“No”—Annie set her chin—“I just had a feeling.”

Patrice removed her glasses, folding them in her hand. “Maybe it’s not too late? Maybe there’s still time?”

“There could be more time than you know.”

Patrice’s face screwed up. “What’s that mean?”

Annie’s shoulders sank. “Just that I’ll work on it.”

Patrice stared at the package of Christmas tree lights in Annie’s hands. “Oh yes, one more thing…”

Annie held up the lights. “On my way!”

Annie spotted Kira on the salesfloor, neatening up a table of sweaters on sale. She sorted and folded the various items by size and color, the butterfly tattoo on her wrist peeking out from beneath her long black T-shirt sleeve. “Kira,” she said in low tones, “I don’t want you to worry about anything.”

Kira’s eyebrow bar rose beneath her spiky purple hair. “Worry?”

“About your meeting with Patrice.” Annie held up crossed fingers. “I’m hoping everything will be okay.”

“Wait. What?” Kira rasped quietly. “Are you not getting promoted?” Kira knew her promotion was dependent on Annie’s. They’d already talked about it.

Annie drew in a breath and hurried away. “I’m not sure, but I’m working on it!”

The man leaving the jewelry counter beelined toward her, and she recoiled when he drew near. One disaster averted. No, two! Three! Counting Leo’s cat food and this morning’s snow dump. Now she was going to prevent a fourth. Annie hastened her steps across the salesfloor, darting through the crowd. If things went as planned, she’d still be replacing that burnt-out strand of Christmas tree lights, but she would not be dealing with—

“No, Dylan! Let me!” A young boy raced past her, darting through Homewares.

Another kid yanked on his arm, scooting in front of him. “No, Marcus! Me first!”

Wait! Where did they even come from? She stared down at her watch and moaned. You’re kidding me? Her watch hands had frozen—again. She’d put in a new battery too.

Annie goggled at the boys as they raced ahead, like whirling dervishes.

“Dylan! Marcus!” their mom called, chasing after them.

“But I want my Robo-bot!” Marcus hollered.

“Santa! Santa!” Dylan cried. “Wait for me!”

***

Annie reached into the janitor’s closet, shaking her head. Why couldn’t she fix this when she’d fixed everything else? Well, not everything else, but some things. And this thing was an enormous thing not to fix.

“Annie.” Braden stood by the door. He had his grip around the handle of a rolling wastebin. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She stared at him, dazed. “That was just—just a lot.”

“I know it looks bad, but hey.” He smiled, and his blue eyes glimmered. “We’ll make it better, all right?”

When he said that she wanted to believe him, and somehow deep in her heart she did.

“You know it’s funny that we only met today, because somehow I think I know you. You’re just”—he searched the ceiling and looked at her—“very familiar.”

“Yeah. I, um—sense something too.”

He snapped his fingers. “You’re not from Philly, by chance?”

“Originally, no.” She held on to the broom handle, resting her weight against it. “Red Bank, New Jersey.”

He grinned. “Nice town. Lots of galleries and such.”

Annie’s heart pinged. “Yeah, my dad was an artist there.”

“No kidding?” Braden stood up straighter, resting a hand on his hip. “That’s very cool. Would I have heard of him?”

“Sadly, he never really took off. My mom sold his work though. She had a small gift shop in town.” A magical memory came back to her, and she saw her mom’s storefront gleaming with a pretty holiday display. “She did the best windows.”

“So, you come by it honestly then.”

“What?” Ahh, she got it. “Oh, yeah, guess so.” Though Tina had pointed this aspect out to her, Annie hadn’t considered her mom’s influence over her work in a long time. Maybe both her folks had influenced her. Her dad had been artistic and her mom great at retail space design.

He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, and the taut muscles beneath his shirt sleeves showed. “They still live there, in Red Bank?”

Painful memories flooded her, but—though it throbbed and felt sore—her heart grew full. She’d known what is was like to be cherished by her folks and loved by her grandparents. “No. They both passed when I was little. Car accident.”

“I’m sorry, Annie. Really I am.” He frowned. “Bet they were really special.”

Annie’s eyes misted. “They were.” She studied him. “How did you know?”

“You’re pretty special yourself.” He winked. “Apples don’t fall far from the tree.”

She teemed with embarrassment. “You don’t even know me.”

“No”—he shared a puzzled grin—“you’re right. Still. I’ve got good instincts.”

Annie lifted her broom. “And my instincts say we’d better get busy if we’re going to finish up in time for New Year’s.”

***

Braden connected a new string of lights to the one on the tree and passed the end of it to Annie. He was unassuming but caring, and ooh so easy on the eyes .

“So. Where’d you work before Lawson’s?” he asked her. She named the major New York City department stores where she’d apprenticed. “That must have been exciting.”

“Yeah, it was.” But not half as exciting as what was happening now—making small talk with a super-handsome guy who was probably thinking up the best way to ask her to coffee. Butterflies flitted around inside her as she settled the lights on the midsection branches of the tree before passing him back the strand. “But I like Lawson’s best. It’s homier somehow.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he said. “Old man Lawson used to run it very well.” He shook his head. “But there’s been a bit of a different vibe here lately.”

“I think Veronica Lawson means well,” she said, taking the charitable view. “She’s trying to save the store.”

“Save it? Is Lawson’s in trouble?”

Annie held her breath. “I’m probably not supposed to say anything.”

He stopped threading his strand of lights through the tree. “Well, if that’s the case, I’m sorry to hear it.”

She decided to confide in him. Braden always seemed to know the right thing to say. “My job might be on the line, to tell you the truth.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “But why?” He glanced at the street and the walloping storm, driving snow against the window. “Wait. Is this about Ms. Lawson thinking your work is old school?”

She settled more lights on the tree, weaving them in and out of the prickly branches. “That’s part of it. The other part is the store is looking to cut back on staff. Hire out freelancers.”

Braden grumbled. “Well, no one could do better windows than you.”

She appreciated his support. “Thanks, Braden.” She stretched up on her tiptoes but couldn’t quite reach the upper branches, despite her high heels. Braden held out a hand, and she passed him the end of her strand of lights. Their fingers touched again, and she blushed. He didn’t comment on that or his own very ruddy complexion. Instead, he wound his way around the tree, accomplishing his job, but even he couldn’t reach the very top.

Braden opened the ladder and set it in place. “I’m really sorry you got bad news,” he said, obviously still stewing over it. “Especially right before Christmas.”

“Doesn’t have to be bad news.” Annie set her hands on her hips and surveyed their handiwork. They’d gotten nearly everything done. “Patrice said nothing will get decided until after the holidays.”

He nodded and climbed down the ladder. “Well, here’s hoping all goes well.” He smiled, and her pulse fluttered. “I’m holding good thoughts.”

“Thanks.”

He walked over to the armchair where they’d set some new boxes of Christmas tree balls and picked one up.

“Wait!” Annie scurried to the side table meant for Santa’s cookies and milk. Those were on the mantel for the time being, and the side table held boxes of Christmas tree ornaments. She picked up the box on top, which also contained Christmas tree balls, only these were fashioned from unbreakable plastic rather than made of glass. They weren’t as shiny as their glass cousins, but they were certainly sturdier. She handed Braden the box and picked up another for herself. “Might be safest for us to use these.”

Braden winked. “Good thinking.”

“Yeah.” Especially if she was faced with another do-over day. Though she hoped to prevent that, she wasn’t certain that she could. So best to be prepared.

Santa paused on his way out the door. “Very nice, you two.” He studied the window display. “Just needs a little something.”

Annie set her hands on her hips. Tomorrow, she’d have to find a way to be ready for this. If tomorrow was another Christmas Eve. She couldn’t believe she was already planning for it! She motioned toward the tree. “We added tinsel.” She pointed to the fake snow. “And have plenty of the white stuff too.”

“Hmm, yes I’ve got it!” Santa adjusted his red velvet hat with its thick white brim. A white pom-pom bounced from its tip. “Maybe a nutcracker or two?” Annie giggled at his harmless request. Seriously. What would it hurt?

Braden folded up the ladder, turning to her. “Got any of those in back?” The ones she had were large and wouldn’t really fit in here. They did sell smaller sets of them in Homewares though. She could borrow one to place on the mantel alongside those singing angels. “I think I can rustle up a pair.”

Santa sent her a cheery thumbs-up. “Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!”

Braden chuckled as Santa left. “That guy’s good.”

“ So good,” Annie added. “Yeah.”

Braden shook his head as Santa darted down the snowy sidewalk, disappearing into the night. “I wouldn’t be surprised to see him riding in a sleigh”—he gestured toward the window with his hand—“all the way down Fifth Avenue.”

Annie giggled. “Funny. I can kind of imagine that too.”

“So, Annie?” he said. “I was wondering about later—”

“Coffee at the Blue Dot?” she asked, and he grinned. “I’d love to.”