Read A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree Online

Authors: Janet Dailey

A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree (17 page)

BOOK: A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree
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Kevin put a hand on a pile of spreadsheets and dragged it over to himself. “Just as background, you all should know that we have a ton of denim that isn’t moving. Jeans don’t seem to be what people are thinking of for Christmas gifts. So we need to change their minds. That brings me to my concept.”
He cleared his throat and finally took a sip of his brew. “You ready?”
Kevin Talley was a ham, Nicole thought. He would be doing them all a favor by getting to the point.
The CEO slapped a button attached to a cable cord. A huge screen behind him came to life.
Denim and Then Some. The slogan was five inches high, flat white against navy blue. The first word that came to Nicole’s mind was boring.
“Fantastic, Kev,” said the woman next to Nicole, a little too quickly. “Really says what needs saying. Let’s go with it.”
“Very catchy,” a man agreed.
The general consensus was much the same. Nicole dreaded the moment Kevin Talley would turn to her. Everyone agreed with him.
“What do you think, Nicole?”
She took a breath. “It is catchy,” she began.
“Don’t be an echo. Tell me what you really think,” Talley ordered. “You, Nicole Young, are our target demographic. Give it to me straight.”
“Denim and Then Some just is not—it’s not magical. Someone looking in the window is going to see that you’re selling denim, right? So you don’t need to spell it out like that. What people want is magic.”
Kevin Talley looked at her with disappointment. He managed a smile. “Thank you, Nicole.”
Finn was jotting down notes in his sketchbook. His ever-so-slight nudge got her to look down at the words concealed by his cupped hand.
Do not criticize Kevin Talley. Are you crazy? Tell him his idea is great. I want to live.
The phone in the conference room rang. Alonzo picked it up and listened for a moment. “Mr. Talley, it seems that Mrs. Talley is on line five. Do you want to take the call in here or in your office?”
Apparently Mr. Talley couldn’t just ignore his wife. When he left the conference room, low-voiced remarks about Mrs. Talley ran around the table. But no one talked to them.
Nicole poked Finn, who reached for his notebook.
FYI: Bree Talley is mega-rich. She’s the money behind the business—and the real boss of ENJ. I have to get rid of this note before he comes back. I still want to live.
When she’d read it, he tore off the page and folded it several times, sticking it down inside his boot.
Kevin Talley was coming back. He pushed open the door and headed for his seat, looking at Nicole again but not with quite as much enthusiasm.
“So. Turns out the wife changed her mind. She doesn’t like Denim and Then Some anymore. Nicole, got any ideas? Besides the magic, I mean.”
Nicole swallowed hard. He was the one who’d put her on the spot. He had asked her to be absolutely honest. Well, she would be.
“There needs to be romance too,” she said. “It’s the best magic, if that doesn’t sound too corny. But it has to be shown in a way that makes people believe it.”
“Could you be a little more specific?” Kevin Talley fiddled with a pencil.
Nicole looked out the vast window, as if inspiration was going to fly right through it and save her. The afternoon clouds had moved on and twilight had fallen. In the deepening sky the moon appeared. The clear winter air made it sparkle.
“Diamond moon,” she said suddenly. “You could have a fantasy setting, very simple, with a woman wearing jeans but not ordinary jeans. She’s lit in blue, not so detailed that she seems too real. The jeans seams are outlined with tiny diamonds sparkling faintly. There’s a moon above her—a huge moon, covered with tiny diamonds too. The sky is dark indigo blue.”
Talley was actually listening. Nicole stopped. Finn kicked her under the table.
“I’m thinking,” she told him under her breath. She sat up straight. “A crescent moon would be even better, one that the woman can swing on,” she continued. “But all the other elements stay the same. The scene is mysterious and beautiful—it draws the viewer in like a dream. And in the shadows beyond the moon there’s a man. We know he’s her lover and the moment they see each other is just about to happen. She dreams of him, and we see him about to step forward and take her in his arms and—”
Kevin Talley slapped the table button and his slogan disappeared. The screen behind him went blank.
Nicole snapped back to reality.
“Romance. Magic. Diamonds. Denim. I love it!” he said. “How much will it cost? Can you give me a breakdown by tomorrow?”
 
 
Sam saw Nicole’s number come up on his cell phone and picked up. “Hey. Haven’t heard from you in a while. What’s going on?” He tried to sound casual.
“I just got out of a meeting with Kevin Talley. He wants me to do the windows at the flagship store. He intends to pay me a lot of money and give me whatever I need to do it right.”
“That’s great! What happens next?”
She paused for a moment. “I’m going to need some help, Sam. Your help. Finn’s signed on already. But I don’t want to work with the ENJ visual team. They are scary, scary people. And they don’t like me.”
“I can help, sure.” He thought for a few seconds. “There’s nothing coming up that Greg needs me for. I just talked to him. He said that from here on in it’s mostly maintenance of the installations, you know, in case of a storm or something. So I’m free.”
“Where are you now?” Nicole asked.
“Down at the lot. Not doing anything important.”
“Good. Can you help me right now?”
Sam couldn’t help smiling. There was no one to see. He was in the corner with the tall trees. “You bet. With what?”
“I need a moon. A great, big, luminous ” moon.
There was something dreamy in her voice. He liked the sound of it. A lot.
“Then let’s go find one,” he said.
Chapter 10
S
am had to hang up when a customer appeared. Nicole called him back ten minutes later. “We have to do this tomorrow. The place is closed. ”
“Okay. Not a problem. Where is it? And what is it?”
Nicole didn’t answer right away. She sounded a bit distracted. “It’s a prop warehouse out in Queens. Actually, several of them.”
Sam had never heard of such a thing. “Tell me the odds of finding a moon in a warehouse.”
“Not too bad, actually. I once found a sphinx and a seven-foot banana on the same day.”
“I can’t even begin to imagine what you used them for.”
“Different projects. I had to keep them in my apartment for a while.”
Sam grinned. He had the oddest conversations with Nicole sometimes, but he always enjoyed them. And the lot seemed to be in an afternoon lull, after he’d sold that tree.
“So where are they now?”
“Back in the warehouse,” she said, as if anyone would know that. “You don’t have to buy. They rent stuff out. Set designers, ad agencies, photographers, TV and movie people—we all go to prop warehouses. Not just window dressers.”
“New to me. I’m really looking forward to it.” Sam laughed.
“We have to rent a car,” Nicole said. “I’ll take care of that.”
“But you need a big moon. Is that going to fit in the trunk?”
“Hmm. We have to find the right moon first. They might even have a folding one, or one that comes apart somehow. If we need to, we can go back with a van or a pickup.”
“What if they don’t have a moon at all?” Sam covered the phone when he saw a man stop at the lot and look idly at the trees against the frame. “Be right with you,” he said to the customer. “Nicole, I gotta go.”
“Okay. Meet me in the morning. I’ll text you the time and I’ll pick you up in front of your building. ”
They exchanged good-byes and Sam walked over to the man. “Is there a particular size you’re looking for?”
“Nah. I just want a really nice tree.”
Sam sized him up. Whoever manned the lot had some leeway on prices. The man probably wouldn’t pay top dollar. He needed a haircut and he looked a little scruffy otherwise. The cuffs and collar of his jacket showed wear, and his sneakers were almost worn out.
“How much for this one?” the man asked. He moved to the fir tree in the bucket filled with peat moss.
“That one is set aside,” Sam said politely. He pointed to the
SOLD
tag.
“Yeah? But I like it. What if I match the price and go up by five bucks?”
“Sorry. I can’t do that.” Sam didn’t know who had asked Theo to set aside the fir, but he did remember the old man saying it was for a special customer.
“They all look alike. You could switch it for the same kind. Who’s to know?”
Sam had the feeling the customer had fixated on the tree for some unknown reason. Or on him. Maybe because of the Stetson. If this oddball took him for a country boy, so what. It took all kinds, especially in a big city, but that didn’t mean Sam had to give in. His answer was firm.
“No. It’s one of a kind. See the crooked branch on top?”
The man in the shabby jacket grinned unpleasantly. “That’s why I like it. I’m crooked too.”
Sam’s patience snapped. “Move on. I mean it.” He took a step toward the man, looming over him. The baseball bat that Theo kept handy just in case was within easy reach. He’d use it if he had to.
The man held up his hands, encased in grimy gloves. “Don’t get excited. I was just making a joke. Is that anyway to treat a customer?”
“Get out of here. Now.”
With a disagreeable sigh, the man turned and sidled away down the street. He threw a last look over his shoulder at Sam, who was moving the tree with the
SOLD
tag away from the curb to a spot where it was less visible.
When Sam looked up again, brushing peat moss off his hands, the man was gone.
 
 
Nicole’s next call was to Sharon. They got through the hellos and how-are-yous fast. Sharon knew something was up.
“And how’s Sam?” Her friend’s tone was nonchalant. “You didn’t call just to chat.”
“Ah—I’m working with him again. Not for pay. We’re going to the prop warehouses tomorrow.”
“Strong arms. Heavy lifting. Yes, I see.”
“Don’t tease me,” Nicole begged. “It really is going to be work. I need stuff for the big ENJ job I just got. I’m doing new windows for their flagship store. Super rush.”
“Now that is news. Good for you, Nicole. That’s amazing. Who’s in charge of the freelancers? Yes, I am angling for a job. Any job.”
“Finn Leary. I’ll give you his number.”
“I have it. I know Finn,” Sharon said joyfully. “I’m going to bug him the second you hang up.”
“That would be so cool. We haven’t worked together for ages.”
“True. So. I’ve been thinking about Sam—”
“I don’t need any more advice on my love life.”
“You sure?”
Nicole was beginning to realize that sometimes you just
knew.
A budding romance wasn’t going to turn into true love if it was picked apart and analyzed to shreds.
“We decided to be friends.” That wasn’t a lie.
Sharon took a breath. “Then I won’t tell you that there’s no future with a guy who lives in Colorado. Sam is here for seasonal work, no matter how tall and brawny and polite and sexy he is.”
“How did you know he was polite?”
Her friend hooted. “He hasn’t jumped you yet. Dead giveaway.”
“Sharon!”
“Bye. I gotta call Finn.”
But Nicole didn’t, not right away. She spent an hour or more online, looking up Colorado on the Internet. Just about every photo was breathtakingly beautiful. And it seemed like everyone had only good things to say about the whole damn state, whether they were from there or not. She looked up Velde again. Pretty town. His ranch, well, who knew. But she was sure that was beautiful too.
 
 
Next morning, he was waiting for Nicole on the stoop, per her text. She drove up in a red rental car, bright and shiny, and rolled down the window.
“How do you like my wheels?” she called.
“Nice. Where’d you get it? Is there a rental place right around here?” That seemed unlikely.
“It’s from CarGo. You rent by the hour and pick out the car online. Ready and waiting at a garage near you. They have vans and trucks too. You don’t have to pay for gas or insurance. It’s all included in the membership.”
“Good deal.” He walked around the car. It was practically new, from what he could tell.
“It’s a great deal. I think it’s the future of city living,” she said happily.
Sam got in and slid the seat all the way back to make room for his long legs. It was nice to be in a car again. Then he remembered what Manhattan traffic was like. And that a lot of New Yorkers didn’t drive at all.
“So,” he said conversationally, “how long have you had a driver’s license?”
Nicole pulled out into the street, going around a double-parked car. “Since I was twenty-one. But I bet you’ve been driving since you were old enough to reach the pedals.”
“Yeah. Kids do in the country. I guess I was about twelve when my dad let me drive on the ranch roads, but I’d been driving before that. Stick shift, too.”
“I can’t drive a stick. Never even tried.”
“Come out to Colorado. I’ll show you how. Bet you could learn to drive my old truck in no time.”
Nicole glanced his way, then back at the street again. “Are you serious? ”
“Believe me, you couldn’t do any damage to that truck that would show. And Colorado’s a beautiful place. You should see it.”
They came to a red light and she stopped. “I may take you up on that someday.”
Sam smiled. “Just say when.”
Nicole pushed a few buttons at random until a small screen in the dashboard lit up. “Pick a station,” she said. “Whatever you like. These cars have satellite radio.”
“Way to go.”
The light changed, and they went across the intersection. Nicole drove smoothly, considering she was negotiating an ever-changing obstacle course of taxis and jaywalkers. Sam mentally timed it: New York drivers gave each other three seconds to make a move. If you hesitated, you risked getting into a fender bender.
They got across town without incident and reached the turnoff to the Queensboro Bridge. Nicole stopped, watching a brawny traffic cop in a safety vest for the signal to go. His white-gloved hands were constantly moving, and he meant business, dropping the ear-piercing whistle on a lanyard around his neck and bellowing out orders when he had to.
“Dude is fearless,” Sam said with admiration.
The cop diverted two large trucks and a fur-coated individual in a luxury car to the side, where a flasher-top cruiser was parked. The officer inside got out and approached Mrs. Furry, who was screaming something out the window about a lawyer.
Sam and Nicole looked ahead as they made the turn. In another few seconds they had gone through a death-defying intersection and were heading over the bridge. He looked up and around and out, taking in the view of the East River and catching a glimpse of the aerial tram that ferried passengers across it.
“Is that the tram that was in the movie a while back?”
“Actually, that’s a new one. It looks a little different. It’s fun to ride—the view is even better than this. Add it to your list.”
“I sure will.”
They were pulling off into a vast stretch of buildings that looked something like Manhattan, only not as densely packed together.
“Welcome to Queens,” she said. “Astoria is that way. We’re not going there.”
Sam looked. Maybe he’d make his own way out here one of these days, see where Greg came from.
“Just so you know, Queens is not exactly royal, but it’s interesting. More great ethnic neighborhoods than any other borough in New York. And it’s a lot bigger than Manhattan.”
“Do the subways go out here?”
Nicole nodded. “They do, but nowhere near where we’re headed. Besides, it’s fun to rent a car sometimes. I like to drive in New York.”
“You have nerves of steel,” he told her.
Sam looked out the window while she concentrated on the driving. There was almost too much to see, and it was going to be impossible to describe to his folks. So he just enjoyed it for himself.
After a while they were going down a main street that could have been anywhere in the U.S. There were family restaurants, hardware stores, gardening emporiums, and clothing stores. Nothing fancy. But doing well.
Nicole slowed down to check the street signs, making a left turn into a neighborhood of one-and two-story houses on wide lawns, set back from the curb. There were kids riding bikes on the uncrowded sidewalks and some adults out walking dogs.
“Are we still in New York City?” Sam asked in disbelief.
“Yes, we are. Queens isn’t much like Manhattan, though. This part of it is really suburban.”
She looked ahead to the far end of the street. “We’re almost there.”
Sam had almost forgotten about the warehouses. “You’re kidding me.” He didn’t see anything but one nice house after another.
“Nope.” She turned right at the corner and then sharply left. A low warehouse ran for what seemed to be blocks. Nicole turned into a loading bay and pulled into the parking spaces to the side. Several large trucks were backed into the bay, dropping off items or picking them up, Sam couldn’t quite tell.
She switched off the ignition and got out, waving to the men working on the bay.
“Okay if we go in this way and skip the showroom?” she asked.
“Sure, Nicole.” The men looked curiously at Sam, who tipped his Stetson to them.
“They probably think you’re an actor,” she said out of the side of her mouth. “You may get asked for an autograph.”
“Yeah, right.”
She clomped up an open metal staircase, followed by Sam.
The interior of the warehouse was drafty and dim, crammed with all kinds of stuff. There were rows of chairs, some in sets, some different, as well as every other kind of furniture. On top of the bigger pieces were one-of-a-kind items.
Sam didn’t see a sphinx or a seven-foot banana, but they had to be around here someplace. He passed under a white metal palm tree hung with metal coconuts.
“Check out the moose head to your right,” Nicole said. “I rented that once. The eyes move and so do the antlers. There’s a battery-powered motor inside.”
Sam found himself face-to-face with it. He hadn’t expected the huge head to be hung so low. The glass eyes glittered, but he guessed the battery had died. He was thankful for that. “Does it talk?” he asked.
BOOK: A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree
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