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Authors: Debbie Macomber

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary

Call Me Mrs. Miracle (7 page)

BOOK: Call Me Mrs. Miracle
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Eight

Aspire to inspire before you expire.

—Mrs. Miracle

Holly felt as if she was walking on air the rest of the way into the office. It didn’t matter how rotten her day turned out to be; no one was going to ruin it after her conversation with Jake.

She’d spent a miserable Sunday and had worked herself into a state after she’d discovered Jake’s position with the department store. Son and heir. Now, having talked to him, she realized her concerns were irrelevant. Okay, so his family was rich and influential; that didn’t define him or say anything about the person he really was.

The question that, inevitably, kept going around and around in her mind was why someone like Jake Finley would be interested in
her.
The reality was that he could have his pick of women. To further complicate the situation, she was taking care of Gabe. Lots of men would see her nephew as an encumbrance. Apparently not Jake.

Holly was happy they’d gotten this settled. She felt reassured about his interest—and about the fact that he’d promised not to purchase the robot for her. Mickey had offered, too, but she knew he was financially strapped. Besides, getting Gabe this toy for Christmas—as
her
gift to him—was important to Holly.

She couldn’t entirely explain why. Maybe because of Bill’s implication that she wasn’t good with kids. She had something to prove—if not to Bill or Mickey or even Jake, she had to prove it to herself. Nothing was going to keep her from making this the best possible Christmas for Gabe.

Holly entered her cubicle outside Lindy Lee’s office and hung up her coat. She’d been surprised to find her boss in the office on Saturday afternoon and had tried to keep Gabe occupied so he wouldn’t pester her. Unfortunately, Holly’s efforts hadn’t worked. She’d caught Gabe with Lindy Lee twice. One look made her suspect Lindy didn’t really appreciate the intrusion. As soon as they’d finished putting up the decorations, Holly had dragged Gabe out with her.
But this morning, as she looked around the office, she was pleased with her work. The bright red bulbs that hung outside her cubicle created an air of festivity. She couldn’t help it—she started singing “Jingle Bells.”

“Where is that file?” Lindy Lee shouted. She was obviously in her usual Monday-morning bad mood. Her employer was sorting through her in-basket, cursing impatiently under her breath.

Of course, Lindy Lee didn’t mention
which
file she needed. But deciphering vague demands was all part and parcel of Holly’s job. And fortunately she had a pretty good idea which one her boss required.

Walking into Lindy Lee’s office, Holly reached across the top of the desk, picked up a file and handed it to her.

Lindy Lee growled something back, opened the file and then smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Holly said cheerfully.

The designer eyed her suspiciously. “What are
you
so happy about?” she asked.

“Nothing…I met up with a friend this morning, that’s all.”

“I take it this
friend
is a man.”

Holly nodded. “A very special man.”

“Honey, don’t believe it.” She laughed as though to say
Holly had a lot to learn about the opposite sex. “Men will break your heart before breakfast and flush it down the toilet just for fun.”

Holly didn’t bother to explain about Jake. Lindy Lee’s experience with men might be far more extensive than her own, but it was obviously different. Jake would never do anything to hurt her; she was sure of it. Besides, Lindy Lee socialized in different circles—Jake’s circles, she realized with a start. Still, Holly couldn’t make herself believe Jake was the kind of man who’d mislead her. Even though they’d known each other so briefly, every instinct she had told her she could trust him, and she did.

No irrational demand or bad temper was going to spoil her day, Holly decided. Because that evening she was seeing Jake.

Holly guessed wrong. Her day was ruined.

Early that afternoon she slipped back into her cubicle after delivering Lindy Lee’s latest sketches to the tech department, where they’d be translated into patterns, which would then be sewn up as samples. Lindy was talking to the bookkeeper and apparently neither one noticed that she’d returned.

Holly hadn’t intended to listen in on the conversation, but it would’ve been impossible not to with Lindy Lee’s
office door wide open. In Holly’s opinion, if Lindy wanted to keep the conversation private, then it was up to her to close the door.

“Christmas bonuses are due this Friday,” Marsha, the bookkeeper, reminded their boss.

“Due.”
Lindy Lee pounced on the word. “Since when is a bonus
due?
It’s my understanding that a bonus is exactly that—a bonus—an extra that’s distributed at my discretion.”

“Well, yes, but you’ve given us one every year since you went out on your own.”

“That’s because I could afford to.”

“You’ve had a decent year,” Marsha said calmly.

Holly wanted to stand and cheer. Marsha was right; profits were steady despite the economy. The staff had worked hard, although their employer took them for granted. Lindy Lee didn’t appear to notice or value the team who backed her both personally and professionally. More times than she cared to count, Holly had dropped off and picked up Lindy’s dry cleaning or run errands for her. She often went above and beyond anything listed in her job description.

Not once had she complained. The way Holly figured it, her main task was to give Lindy Lee the freedom to be creative and do what she did best and that was design clothes.

“A
decent
year, perhaps,” Lindy Lee repeated. “But not a stellar one.”

“True,” Marsha agreed. “But you’re holding your own in a terrible economy.”

“All right, I’ll reconsider.” Lindy Lee walked over to the window, her back to Holly. Not wanting to be caught listening, Holly quietly stood. There was plenty to do away from her desk—like filing. Clutching a sheaf of documents, she held her breath as she waited for Lindy’s decision.

“Everyone gets the same bonus as last year,” Lindy Lee said with a beleaguered sigh.

Holly released her breath.

“Everyone except Holly Larson.”

Her heart seemed to stop.

“Why not Holly?” Marsha asked.

“She doesn’t deserve it,” Lindy Lee said flippantly. “She’s out of the office at the stroke of five and she’s been late for work a number of mornings, as well.”

The bookkeeper was quick to defend Holly. “Yes, but she’s looking after her nephew while her brother’s in Afghanistan. This hasn’t been easy for her, you know.”

Lindy Lee whirled around and Holly moved from her line of vision in the nick of time. She flattened herself against the wall and continued to listen.

“Yes, yes, I met the boy this weekend. She brought him on Saturday when she came in to decorate.”

“On her own time,” Marsha said pointedly.

“True, but if she managed her time better, Holly could’ve done it earlier. As it is, the decorations are up much later than in previous years. If I was giving out bleeding-heart awards this Christmas, I’d make sure Holly got one. No, I won’t change my mind,” she snapped as Marsha began to protest. “A bonus is a bonus, and as far as I’m concerned Holly doesn’t deserve one. It’s about merit, you know, and going the extra mile, and she hasn’t done that.”

Holly gasped.

“But—”

“I’ve made my decision.”

Marsha didn’t argue further.

Holly didn’t blame her. The bookkeeper had tried. Holly felt tears well up but blinked them away. She was a good employee; she worked hard. While Lindy Lee was correct—these days she
did
leave the office on time—there’d been many a night earlier in the year when she’d stayed late without being asked. She’d often gone that extra mile for her employer. Yet all Lindy seemed to remember was the past three months.

She felt sick to her stomach. So there’d be no bonus for
her. Although the amount of money wasn’t substantial—maybe five hundred dollars—it would’ve made all the difference. But somehow, she promised herself, she’d find a way to buy Gabe his special Christmas toy.

 

Even though she was distracted by her financial worries, Holly managed to enjoy dinner with Jake and Gabe that evening. Jake brought chopsticks along with their take-out Chinese—an order large enough to feed a family of eight. Several of the dishes were new to Holly. He’d chosen moo shu pork and shrimp in lobster sauce, plus barbecue pork, egg rolls, fried rice and almond fried chicken.

Gabe loved every minute of their time with Jake. As he so eloquently said, “It’s nice being around a guy.”

“I don’t know,” Jake commented as he slipped his arm around Holly’s waist. “Women aren’t so bad.”

Gabe considered his comment carefully. “Aunt Holly’s okay, I guess.”

“You
guess,
” she sputtered. Using her chopsticks she removed the last bit of almond fried chicken from her nephew’s plate.

“Hey, that was mine,” Gabe cried.

“That’s what you get for criticizing women,” Holly told him, and then, to prove her point, she reached for his fried
dumpling, too. In retaliation, Gabe reached across for her egg roll, dropping it on the table.

Jake immediately retrieved it and stuck one end in his mouth. “Five-second rule,” he said just before he bit down.

When they’d finished, they cleared the table and settled down in front of the television.

As Jake flipped through the channels, Gabe asked, “When are we gonna put up the Christmas tree?”

“This week,” Holly told him. She’d need to budget carefully now that she wasn’t going to get her bonus. The tree—she’d hoped to buy a real one—was an added expense she’d planned to cover with the extra money. This year she’d have to resort to the small artificial tree she’d stuck in the back of her coat closet.

The news that she wouldn’t be receiving the bonus was devastating. Holly’s first instinct had been to strike back. If everyone else was getting a bonus, it didn’t seem fair that she wasn’t. Still, Lindy Lee had a point. Holly hadn’t been as dedicated to her job since Gabe came into her life. She had other responsibilities now.

That afternoon she’d toyed with the idea of looking for a new job. She could walk out—that would show Lindy Lee. Reason quickly asserted itself. She couldn’t leave her job and survive financially. It could take her months to find
a new one. And although this was an entry-level position, the chance to advance in the fashion world was an inducement she simply couldn’t reject that easily. She’d made friends at the office, too. Friends like Marsha, who’d willingly defended her to their employer.

Besides, if she left her job, there’d be dozens who’d leap at the opportunity to take her place. No, Holly would swallow her disappointment and ride this out until Mickey returned. Next Christmas would be different.

“Can Jake help decorate the Christmas tree?” Gabe asked.

Jake was sitting next to her and Holly felt him tense. His face was pale, his expression shocked.

“Jake.” Holly said his name softly and laid her hand on his forearm. “Are you okay?”

“Sure. Sorry, no decorating trees for me this year,” he said in an offhand way.

“Why not?” Gabe pressed. “It’s really fun. Aunt Holly said she’d make popcorn and we’d have cider. She has some ornaments from when she and my dad were kids. She won’t let me see them until we put up the tree. It’ll be lots of fun.” His young face pleaded with Jake to reconsider.

Holly gently placed her hand on her nephew’s shoulder. “Jake said another time,” she reminded him. Jake hadn’t par
ticipated in any of the usual Christmas traditions or activities in more than twenty years, ever since he’d lost his mother and sister.

“But there won’t be another time,” her nephew sulked. “I’ll be with my dad next year.”

“Jake’s busy,” Holly said, offering yet another excuse.

“Sorry to let you down, buddy,” Jake told Gabe. “We’ll do something else, all right?”

Gabe shrugged, his head hanging. “Okay.”

“How about if I take you ice-skating at Rockefeller Center? Would you like that?”

“Wow!” In his excitement, Gabe propelled himself off the sofa and landed with a thud on the living room carpet. “I wanted to go skating last Saturday but Aunt Holly doesn’t know how.”

“She’s a girl,” Jake said in a stage whisper. Then he looked at her and grinned boyishly. “Frankly, I’m glad of it.”

“As you should be,” she returned under her breath.

“When can we go?” Gabe wasn’t letting this opportunity slip through his fingers. He wanted to nail down the date as soon as possible. “I took skating lessons last winter,” he said proudly.

Jake hesitated. “I’ll need to get back to you once I see how everything goes at the store. It’s the Christmas season,
you know, so we might have to wait until the first week of the new year. How about Sunday the second?”

“That
long?

“Yes, but then I’ll have more time to show you some classic moves. Deal?”

Gabe considered this compromise and finally nodded. “Deal.” They clenched their fists and bumped them together to seal the bargain.

The three of them sat side by side and watched a rerun of
Everybody Loves Raymond
for the next half hour. Jake was beside her, his arm around her shoulders. Gabe sat to her left with his feet tucked beneath him.

When the program ended, Gabe turned to Jake. “Do you want me to leave the room so you can kiss my aunt Holly?”

“Gabe!” Holly’s cheeks were warm with embarrassment.

“What makes you suggest that?” Jake asked the boy.

Gabe stood in the center of the room. “My dad emailed and said if you came to the apartment, I should dis-discreetly leave for a few minutes, only I don’t know what that word means. I think it means you want to kiss Aunt Holly without me watching. Right?”

Jake nodded solemnly. “Something like that.”

“I thought so. Okay, I’m going to go and get ready for bed.” He enunciated each word as if reading a line of dialogue from an unfamiliar play.

Jake winked at Holly. “Pucker up, sweetheart,” he said, doing a recognizable imitation of Humphrey Bogart.

Holly rolled her eyes and clasped her hands prayerfully. “Ah, sweet romance.”

BOOK: Call Me Mrs. Miracle
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