Hawk approached the fountain at the statue’s base and slipped into his overcoat. He was more than eager to keep this particular coffee date. It was with a woman he’d loved for as long as he could remember. A woman who’d been a part of his life even longer than he could remember.
Faye stood beside the fountain in the center of the lobby, running her fingers through the chlorinated water as though she was considering reaching for some of the loose change floating around in the bottom level of the pool. Hawk wouldn’t put it past her, he thought with a smile. His godmother had always had a childish quirk about her. He often saw her doing things normal people either didn’t think to do or had outgrown after the age of twelve.
“Faye,” he said, causing her to stiffen and let her hand hang over the water. Small beads of water dripped from her wrinkled fingers.
Her face bloomed into a lined smile that had always made him squirm a little inside.
“How’s my favorite godson?” she said in her tired but good-natured voice, turning to him.
“Aren’t I your only godson?”
“So far,” she said with a shrug.
“You sound like you’re expecting to be asked for the honor again sometime soon.”
“Anything can happen,” she said. “Are you ready? It’s cold outside. I need my coffee.”
He acquiesced. “Where’s it going to be today?” She slipped her gnarled hand onto his elbow, and he deliberately slowed his pace so she could keep up. “Debbie’s?”
“We go there every time.”
“When we meet for breakfast, I suppose,” Hawk said. “Though we’ve mostly been meeting for lunches lately.” Today was a special occasion for Faye. One of her grandkids had a birthday party later that afternoon. Hawk suggested breakfast, and here they were.
“Then we’d better stop in at Debbie’s,” Faye said. “Don’t want them to forget us.”
“We definitely wouldn’t want that,” Hawk said with a chuckle as he held the door open for her. A brush of frigid air greeted him, along with flurries of snow. The sky was gray, the perfect shade for sleigh bells and snowball fights.
“You know, you’re the highlight of my week,” Faye said. “Might as well be everyone else’s.”
“You’re mine too, Faye,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean everyone remembers us when we go into their establishments.”
“Oh, you might be surprised.” She tucked her chin into her purple coat. Hawk stroked her hand, wishing he could help her stay warm. Faye always insisted they walk to their destinations since his office was central to several restaurant options and she wanted her exercise. Maybe he should get her a pair of gloves for Christmas this year.
She claimed staying fit was harder to do at her age. Hawk wasn’t sure what that number was, exactly. He valued his hide far too much to ask outright, so he figured indulging her request to walk was the best option.
Today, Hawk would have loved to drive her somewhere. The hazy fog made a lace skirt on the street. Snow spun around them, chilling his nostrils and ears. He shivered.
“Hey, how about La Comida Buena for one of their breakfast burritos?” Hawk suggested. “It’s closer.”
He expected her to protest, but instead, she agreed. “Let’s do it.”
Guiding her across the crosswalk, which was hidden somewhere beneath the slush, he knew he wasn’t alone in being relieved to pass the handful of shops and step into La Comida Buena’s heated serving area. A glass pane displaying the company’s logo and backed by colored lights and bubbles welcomed them. Hawk knew the menu by heart, and he suspected Faye did too by now.
She let go of him and hobbled across the black mat, which was collecting the snow from their shoes, and toward the line of people waiting to order. Christmas music played overhead.
Hawk trudged along behind her. After watching employees assemble their burrito and prepare their coffee, he paid for their breakfast.
“How have things been?” Hawk set the tray of food on the rack in front of the drink dispensers.
“I’m getting by,” Faye said, “though I have to say, Social Security isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.”
He retrieved a few napkins and placed them on the tray.
“What’s happening?” He picked up the tray and led the way to the nearest vacant table. “I thought you said things were going well financially.”
Faye unbuttoned her coat and placed it on the back of the chair before sitting. Once the tray was before her, she busied herself assembling her silver foil bowl and his, along with their utensils. The smell of eggs, sausage, and cheese drifted straight to his stomach. Hawk was eager to dig in.
“It’s got to be this dadgum Christmas season,” Faye said, cutting into her breakfast burrito. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the lights and music and celebration as much as anyone else. But things get tight when you’ve got higher heating bills and more presents to buy than usual.”
Faye had thirteen grandchildren, some adults, some teenagers, and one toddler, all of whom she loved to spoil. Hawk knew her retirement was spent divvying her time up between them and himself and that nothing made her happier.
“You don’t have to spend a lot on them,” he said, taking a bite of his overstuffed burrito. “And don’t bother getting me anything.”
“Are you kidding? They’re my grandbabies. I’ve got to get them something. And as for you, even billionaires need Christmas presents.”
A blush hit his cheeks. He glanced around, hoping no one heard her reference to his financial status.
“It isn’t that, Faye.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t want you putting yourself out for my sake.”
“I’m not,” she said. “I’m doing it for mine. I’m the grandma and the godmother. It’s part of the job description.” She gave him a wrinkly smile.
“Not for me it isn’t,” he argued. “You know your grandkids also love you with or without gifts.”
A shrug. “Even so, Hawkie boy, it’s Christmas.”
He stared at his food. “That it is. Seems like someone is reminding me of that every hour.”
She lowered her utensils and speared him with an unswerving glare. “What’s happening with you?”
“Too much. I don’t want to bore you.”
Faye’s pointed look deepened.
Hawk laughed. Fighting her was no use, though he decided not to mention the recent theft. Knowing Faye, she’d try to track the culprit down herself and demand the stolen items be returned that instant. “It’s nothing. Typical work stuff. Then the elevator getting stuck—”
“The elevator got stuck? With you on it? When did this happen?”
“Just before I met up with you, actually. And the woman I was on it with—”
Faye perked up. If she wasn’t interested before, she undoubtedly was now. She’d been egging him on for months to start dating again after ending things with Amelia Solace.
Faye scooted her chair closer to him.
“You were stuck on it with a woman? Tell me everything.”
There was that pesky blush again, heating his cheeks with unwanted vigor. He was a grown man, for goodness’ sake. If Faye hoped for a story of some romantic escapade with the beautiful stranger, she’d be mistaken. Maybe if he hadn’t lost total control of his senses something like that could have happened.
The woman had said throwing herself at him again was intriguing. His mind began to fill with all kinds of possible meanings of that particular word.
“There’s nothing to tell,” he said, digging into his burrito, “unless you count my slight panic attack and her sweet attempts to help me stay calm.”
“Hmm. Yes, you always did have a time with tight spaces.”
Hawk thought about his back surgery a few years ago. He’d had an incredibly difficult time just getting the MRI. Logically, he knew nothing would happen to him while in the machine. But his brain didn’t seem to grasp as much when the walls were too close.
“So who was she?” Faye aske
d, scooping a forkful of rice into her mouth.
“An employee in my building, that’s all I know,” he said. “Though she mentioned having to work on Christmas.”
“But you’re not open on Christmas,” Faye argued.
“I know. In any case, I’ve invited most of the departments to my annual Christmas Eve ball. Maybe she’ll be there.”
He secretly hoped she would. He took another bite of his burrito. The blend of sausage, egg, and cheese melted across his tongue.
“Most of your departments?” Faye said. “That staff of yours works hard. I keep telling you to include them all.”
Clary had insisted on the same thing, but he’d gone back and forth with her on it dozens of times.
He pitched the same argument to Faye. “Inviting all my staff is a nice gesture, but do you know how many people that is?”
He'd already invited several out-of-town friends to visit and attend the ball. Hawk made a mental note to check with Adrian about that. It'd been a few months since they talked about Adrian and his wife, Gabby, joining in. That was only a few extras, though. Faye was talking more in the hundreds-extra range.
Last year the ball was crowded as it was, and they’d only invited half the departments. He supposed they could change the location to accommodate more people. He pulled out his phone and shot a text to Clary.
“How do you decide, then?” Faye asked. “Do you rotate, to make sure they all feel appreciated?”
Hawk thought it over as he chewed and swallowed another bite. “I suppose it would be a good thing, to invite the entirety of my staff.”
“All departments.” Faye tapped her fork in the air. “Just so you make sure you see this mystery girl of yours again.”
“All departments,” he agreed aloud, texting the same information to Clary.
Make sure they’re all invited, please, and find a larger location. Hawk felt a little guilty for asking this of her so late in the game, but if anyone could handle the change in locale, it was Clary. She could probably organize it right here at Corporate, maybe in the conference rooms below.
You got it, boss, she replied.
“What about you?” Hawk asked. He returned his phone to his jacket pocket. “What can I do to help you?”
Faye’s features narrowed with suspicion. “You know not to go there, Hawkie boy. No offering me money.”
He lifted his hands. “I know. I wasn’t going to. But is there anything else I can do? Offer you a position, maybe? I know you’re retired, but my candy shop in downtown Westville could use a festive holiday greeter.”
She straightened, which for her was saying something. “A greeter, you say?”
“Sure. You’d probably get your fair share of samples as well, by offering them to holiday shoppers.”
“Well now.” Her rosy smile rounded her face that much more. “If you’re sure.”
Hawk sniggered inside. He knew he could convince her with candy. “I’m sure. Won’t be a problem. And it’ll be a part-time position that will end at the end of the holidays. I’ll get in touch with the store’s manager.”
She patted his hand and took a bite of her rice. “That’s mighty sweet of you, Hawkie boy. Mighty sweet.”
“Anything for my Faye girl,” he said, going back to the cutesy names they’d used for each other since he was a boy. Faye had been his mother’s best friend. The two had met during a European choir tour years ago, and his parents had insisted she take the role of his godmother when he was born. Even now, Faye still busied herself with gossip and greeting cards at every family event, from his birthday to holidays to his mother’s monthly book club. It was almost as though he had two mothers, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Hence the reason he’d kept the mention of the theft to himself.
Faye had enough on her mind, with her own financial situation. Now all he needed was for Clary to get back to him regarding the list of invited staff. He had to make sure the mysterious woman from the elevator received an invitation.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ella lined up the pinned fabric with the three-quarter marking on her sewing machine, pushed the pedal with her foot, and fed the material through as the needle began inching up and down, up and down. Beside her, her roommate, Chloe, worked at her own machine. Its whirring thrum added white noise in their momentary silence. Their friend, Brandy, had also come over to help. They still had several pillowcases left to make before Ella’s too-early bedtime.
Ella had founded Stitches for Sierra three years ago when Sierra, a little girl in her apartment complex, was dying of leukemia. Ella rounded up as many women with even the tiniest sewing ability to help assemble a quilt in record time for Sierra before she passed away.
Brandy and Chloe had been the only two to continue the organization with her, eager for new ways to help people in need. Their projects mainly benefitted kids at Harmony Children’s, though occasionally a neighbor or a different need surfaced, and the crew of ladies worked together to create whatever was needed.
Ella’s mom had made all of Ella’s clothes while she was growing up. Sewing had been a staple at the Embers household. Quilts for cousins, new dresses for Easter; there was something about the way Eileen Embers did things that felt old-fashioned and yet so perfect all at the same time.
Ella missed her mom, and so she’d kept up with Stitches for Sierra, not only to help kids in need but to honor her mother, too. This Christmas, their project was Christmas pillowcases for all the kids in Harmony Children’s. Ella had relished perusing bolt after bolt of colorful, festive fabrics—vibrant reds and greens covered with elves, reindeer, or Santa Claus, sparkling blues and purples with glittering snowflakes. There was something about coordinating colors together that was more satisfying than getting the last piece of pie.
“That should do it,” she said, snipping through the thread on her machine. She then turned the fabric right-side out, pleased to find the rectangular edging blending perfectly with the pink pillowcase body, which was covered with gingerbread men.
“Some little girl is going to freak out over that one,” said Brandy, pausing over her own machine on the opposite end of Ella’s kitchen table. Brandy called herself “huggable,” with dark skin and hair, and the most gorgeous eyelashes Ella had ever seen.
“I know, right? I wish I could see their faces when their pillows are brought in that morning and they’re not covered in boring white fabric, but spangled in Christmas perfection.”
The plan was to deliver them a day or two before, so the staff had time to prepare a pillow for each child.
“It really is a great idea,” Chloe added, speaking from over her shoulder. Her blue train-and-wreath-covered pillowcase fabric hung from the edge of the desk near the window. Chloe was of Asian descent, with dark hair, slanted eyes, and stunning cheekbones.
“Giving is something my mom always did for people.” Ella shrugged off their praise. Admiration wasn’t why she did this. Having had an incredibly disheartening experience at the hospital with her own mother before she’d died, Ella knew how lonely hours at a hospital could be. Especially during the holidays.
While the last ten years without her mom had been a struggle, Ella always found it hardest at Christmastime. Stina could be cordial enough on the surface, but deep down Ella knew the woman disliked her. Her stepmother had been over the moon when Ella had graduated from high school and finally moved out. At Stina’s request.
If Ella told the truth, she’d been relieved at the separation too.
At least her dad was happy with Stina. That was what mattered, she told herself. What did she care that he’d gradually allowed Stina to push Ella out of his life? At least she still had her health. Ella was nothing if not optimistic in the face of opposition.
A pinging email alert sounded from her cell. Ella rifled through piles of fabric. She lifted the precut stacks and the scraps she’d just received from Samantha at Ever After Sweet Shoppe, as well as those fresh from the store, before finally locating her pho
ne below a red and black combination. She swiped to see a little number on the icon.
The email’s sender was Ever After Sweet Shoppe. Unlike the other emails she occasionally got, announcing promotions or discounts in their boutique shops, this was from Corporate.
“That’s weird,” Ella muttered.
Brandy spoke without looking up from her sewing machine. “What?”
“I don’t usually get emails from Corporate Ever After. Usually, they’re from Stina or just ads.”
“Must be pretty important then,” said Brandy. The whir of her machine began again.
The subject line read, An Invitation Especially for You. Curious, Ella tapped on the email and read:
Dear Ms. Embers,
Christmas is a wonderful season of celebration, and one of the best ways we honor this beloved holiday here at Ever After Sweet Shoppe is by hosting an annual Christmas Ball. We delight in gathering our employees who work so hard the rest of the year together for one harmonious celebration, to thank them for all they do to keep Ever After Sweet Shoppe thriving all year round.
As a member of Ever After Sweet Shoppe’s exclusive custodial staff via Malus Custodial Management, you often slip through unseen. We at Human Resources believe your contribution is as vital as anyone else’s in the company and are pleased to extend an invitation to you to attend Mr. Danielson’s Honorary Christmas Ball to thank you for your hours of quiet, consistent service.
It will be held on Christmas Eve, December 24, from eight pm to midnight, at Ever After’s corporate office. As this is a formal event, come ready to paint the night in your finest, formal attire. Refreshments will be served during the event. Please feel free to bring a single guest with you.
We hope to see you at the ball!
Sincerely,
Deanna Hunt, Human Resource Manager
One phrase stuck out more than any other as Ella finished reading the email aloud: Mr. Danielson’s Honorary Christmas Ball.
He’d held this ball for years now. She knew it—good grief, she’d had to clean up after it. In all that time, the custodial staff had never once been included. They didn’t do enough, not like his other departments. Or that was always Stina’s argument whenever a complaint was voiced from one of her crew members.
Ella And The Billionaire's Ball (Once Upon A Billionaire Book 2) Page 3