Christmas with Her Millionaire Boss

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Christmas with Her Millionaire Boss Page 7

by Barbara Wallace


  In fact, heaven help her, it didn’t upset her at all.

  * * *

  James was disappointed when the barbed comment he’d been expecting didn’t come. Instead, he found himself standing by the fire while Noelle went to tell Belinda he’d changed his plans. Again. Oh, well, what good was flying your own plane if you couldn’t control your flight schedule, right?

  He twirled his smartphone between his fingers. Christmas Kickoff, he thought with a snort. He’d go, but there was no way he’d change his thoughts on the holiday. The Hammond dysfunction was far too ingrained.

  Turning his attention from the now empty doorway and back to his phone, James tried to settle the disquiet that was suddenly rolling in his stomach. He wished he could blame the sensation on being stuck in Christmas Land, but his phone screen told the truth. The conditions weren’t that bad in Boston; he’d flown in worse dozens of times.

  He’d used the wind as an excuse. To hang around.

  He didn’t rearrange his schedule on a whim for anyone, let alone a woman, and yet here he was making up reasons to spend additional time with Noelle Fryberg, a woman he was sure wasn’t one hundred percent happy about the decision. He was breaking his own number one rule and staying where he might not be wanted. All because she made him feel energized and connected in a way no one ever had.

  No wonder his stomach felt like it was on a bungee.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SOMEONE HAD SHOT off a Christmas bomb. How else could he explain it? Overnight, fall had disappeared and been replaced by poinsettias and tiny white lights. There were wreaths and red bows on doorways and evergreen garlands draped the fascia of every downtown building. It was even snowing, for crying out loud! Big, fluffy flakes straight out of central casting. An inch of the white stuff already coated the ground.

  “What the heck?” he said as he looked out the passenger window of Noelle’s SUV. “Did you drag a snow machine over from one of the ski resorts?”

  “Nope. A happy coincidence is all,” Noelle replied. “Makes a nice touch for the start of the Christmas season, doesn’t it? Snow always puts people in the Christmas spirit.”

  “Keeps people off the roads too. People hate driving in snowstorms.”

  “Maybe back in Boston, but in this town, we deal perfectly fine with snowstorms.”

  “Residents maybe, but what about all those out-of-town shoppers?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about them,” she replied.

  They turned onto the main drag, where the bulk of the shops and restaurants were located. First thing James noticed was the steady flow of people looking into windows.

  “See? The town will do very well economically over the next few weeks, weather or no weather.”

  “Yeah, but will they drive from downtown to the toy store?” That was the real issue. No one minded walking a few blocks; it was risking the roads that made people balk. Today, Black Friday, was the day retailers counted on to jumpstart their yearly profits. A healthy turnout was vital. “Conditions like this are one of the reasons why I want to push the online business,” he said. “Bad weather encourages people to stay inside and shop online.” Where there was a lot more competition for their attention.

  Not surprisingly, she ignored his comment. “I wouldn’t worry too much. We’ve got things under control.”

  She pointed ahead to where a bus stop had been decorated with a big gold sign that read Trolley to Christmas Castle Every Fifteen Minutes. “Like I said, we’re used to snow. There’s already a line too. Everyone loves to visit Santa’s workshop.”

  The smugness in her voice begged to be challenged. “Crowds don’t necessarily equal sales. Half the people coming to see the foolish window displays at the Boston store never buy a thing. Not a very good return considering how much we spend on them every year.”

  She gave him a long look. “If that’s how you feel, then why continue having them? Why not scale back?”

  “Because...”

  James frowned. Why did he continue doing the windows on such a grand scale? Not even his own father wanted to continue the tradition. Yet, every year, he saw the numbers, and then turned around and approved something equally lavish for the following December. It was the one budget item where he deviated from his own rules of business and he didn’t have a decent explanation.

  “People have come to expect them,” he replied. That was the reason. He was preserving Hammonds’ reputation with the public. “Those window displays are part of the Hammond brand.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t figured out a way to support the brand in a less expensive way. Building brand new, custom animatronic exhibits every year is expensive.”

  Tell me about it, he thought. “Cutting back would send a negative message to the public. They might equate it with financial difficulties that don’t exist.” James could imagine how the business press might speculate.

  “In other words, it’s not always a good idea to mess with tradition.”

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “You mean like Fryer and the Santa’s reindeer corral at the castle.”

  Damn. She’d boxed him in. Quite neatly too.

  Shifting in his chair, he tipped an imaginary hat. “Well played, Mrs. Fryberg. I see your point.”

  “I thought you might, Mr. Hammond,” she said, nodding her head in return.

  Neatly playing him, however, did not mean she was getting all her own way. “You still can’t have people leaving Santa’s workshop, and not reentering the store. The idea is to keep them around the toys as long and as much as possible.”

  He waited for a response, half expecting another argument. Instead, she daintily flicked the turn signal handle with her fingers. “Fair enough. What about Fryer?”

  “Fryer?” Parts of the other day were still a bit fuzzy. James had to think a moment about whom she was talking about. Finally, he remembered. “You’re talking about the giant stuffed moose eating up space at the rear of the store.”

  “Elk,” she corrected.

  “What?”

  “Fryer. He’s an elk, and people love taking selfies with him. In fact, customers have been known to bring friends specifically to see him. Much like your window displays.”

  So it was the moo—elk she wanted to save. Strange item to draw a line over. Then again, she did mention something about Ned Fryberg using the creature in his early ads and as he’d learned yesterday, his hostess had a very strong attachment to Fryberg history.

  “Fine,” he said. “The elk can stay. But only until I get a good look at the profit per square foot. If we need to redesign the floor plan, I make no promises.”

  “But he stays for now?”

  “Yes,” James replied, his sigh sounding more exasperated than he truly felt. “He can stay.”

  She turned and smiled. “Thank you.”

  That made twice in three days that she’d managed to convince him to bend on a decision. Granted, neither were major sticking points. Still, she had a better record than most of the experienced negotiators he’d faced.

  Beginner’s luck, he told himself. It definitely didn’t have anything to do with how her eyes got bluer when she smiled.

  He continued studying her after she’d turned her eyes back to the road. Today she was dressed for the holidays in a red sweater and a brightly colored scarf. Candy cane stripes, naturally. A matching knit cap sat on her head. The outfit made her look like a tiny character from Where’s Waldo, only she’d stand out in any crowd, regardless of her size.

  A blush worked its way into her cheeks as she sensed him studying her. “How’s your head this morning?” she asked. “You never said.”

  “Better,” he replied. Better than better actually. The spot around his stitches was still tender, but the dull ache had disappeared and he could ben
d and turn his head without the room spinning. “Being able to shower this morning helped.” Nothing like being able to stick your head under a stream of water to erase the cobwebs. “Having a bed helped too. No offense to your sofa.”

  “I’m glad you were awake enough to climb the stairs this time,” she replied. “I was thinking that considering how tired you were last night, it was a good thing you couldn’t fly home after all.”

  “Yeah, a good thing.” James forced his expression to stay blank. When they’d returned from Belinda’s, he’d gone straight to the bedroom, telling Noelle he was too tired for conversation. In reality, he wanted the solitude so he could process his decision to stay. He wanted to say it boiled down to attraction. Noelle wasn’t stereotypically beautiful—more cute really—but the more he studied her eyes, the more he found her gaze hypnotically compelling. If that was even a thing. And her curves...he did love those curves, no doubt about it.

  Problem was, attraction didn’t seem like a complete enough answer. It wasn’t the challenge either, even though she clearly challenged him. He was drawn to her in a way that went beyond attraction. What that meant, he didn’t have a clue, other than knowing he liked her in a way that was different from other women he’d known. Whatever the reason, he didn’t like feeling this way. He didn’t want someone getting under his skin. Didn’t want the awkwardness when things inevitably blew up.

  Why break his cardinal rule then by sticking around last night? To spend time with a widow devoted to her late husband and his family, no less?

  Hell. Maybe he did want the awkwardness. Maybe he had some subconscious desire to punish himself.

  Certainly would explain a lot of things.

  A flash of color caught his eye. They were passing an open-air market of some kind, the perimeter of which was marked off by a banner of rainbow-colored flags.

  “That’s the Christkindlmarkt,” Noelle said. “It’s German for Christmas market.”

  “Yes, I know. I’ve seen them in Europe.”

  “Really? Only other one I’ve seen is in Chicago. Ned and Belinda told me about the one they visited in Berlin. Sounded wonderful.”

  James watched as they passed a woman moving her collection of knit scarves out of the snow. “If you like flea markets,” he said.

  “It’s a lot more than a flea market,” Noelle replied. Even with his head turned to the window, he could feel her giving him the side-eye. It made his stitches tingle. “We hold the market every year. There are crafts, baked goods. Did you even spend time at the market in Europe? Or were you too busy studying the traffic patterns?”

  “Contrary to what you might think, I don’t analyze every retail establishment I visit. And no, I didn’t have time to visit the market in Germany. My car drove past on the way to a meeting.”

  “No wonder you are being so derisive!” she said. “We’ll visit this one on our way back from the store. Besides the castle, it’s the linchpin of our Christmas Kickoff festival. One of the vendors, Heineman’s Chocolatiers, has the most amazing hot chocolate you’ve ever tasted. Kevin and I made a point of visiting his stall first thing every festival. Mr. Heineman would never forgive me if I skipped it.”

  “God forbid you break tradition,” James replied. The strangest flash of emotion passed through him when she mentioned Kevin. Not jealousy—he hadn’t known Noelle long enough to feel possessive—but the sensation had the same sharp kind of pang. Like a tear in the center of his chest.

  He’d been feeling a lot of odd things these past two days. Maybe that drone had jarred something loose when it struck him.

  All he knew was the idea of Noelle and her beloved late husband strolling through the Christmas fair made his sternum ache.

  * * *

  “I owe you an apology. That was the most organized chaos I’ve ever seen.”

  Noelle’s chest puffed with pride. Store management had spent years perfecting their Black Friday routine, so she knew James would be impressed. What she hadn’t counted on was how his positive reaction would make her feel. She took his compliments as a personal victory. Unable to contain her smirk, she let the smile spread as she looked to the passenger seat. “I take it you no longer think of the castle as a fading tourist attraction then.”

  “I still think our retailing future lies online,” he replied, “but I’ll concede that you all know what you’re doing here. Those handheld wish list scanners are genius.”

  “Thank you. Ned installed them shortly before he passed away.”

  Borrowed from the supermarket industry, the scanners let kids record items they fell in love with. The lists were downloaded to share with Santa as well as their parents. Moms and dads could purchase the items then and there and have them stored for pickup at a later date.

  “We’ve boosted our Black Friday numbers by thirty percent since installing them,” she told him. “Of course, our numbers drop a little at the back end, but we prefer to start the season high rather then sweat it out at the end of the quarter.”

  “Don’t blame you there.” He smiled again, and this time Noelle got a little flutter in her stomach.

  Her assessment of his smile hadn’t changed in the last twenty-four hours; if anything, she was finding it more magnetic. Especially when he let the sparkle reach his eyes. That didn’t always happen. Noelle found those smiles—the ones with shadows—intriguing too.

  Despite the voice warning her the shadowy smiles were the more dangerous of the two.

  “When I was a kid, the store made paper lists. Kids wrote down ten items and put the letter in a mailbox for Santa. Parents could come by and pick up their child’s list at the front desk.”

  James had taken out his phone and was typing a note. “This is much more efficient,” he said. “I’m sending a message to our logistics department about the scanners right now.”

  “I had a feeling the system would appeal to you. Although, I’ve got to admit...” She paused to back out of her parking space. “There was something special about folding up the letter and dropping it into that big red-and-white mailbox.” Christmas always brought out the nostalgic in her. “Scanning bar codes doesn’t feel the same.”

  “Even Santa’s got to keep up with technology,” James replied.

  “Yes, he does. By the way, did you see how popular Fryer was with the crowd? I had a half dozen people ask me if we were bringing back our stuffed animal version.”

  “So you told me in the store. Twice,” he replied, as he tucked the phone back into his coat. “I take it this is your way of saying ‘I told you so.’”

  “You’ve got to admit. I did tell you.” A chuckle bubbled out of her, cutting off the last word. Didn’t matter. He got the point.

  In the grand scheme of things, Fryer’s continued existence was a small victory, but one that made her happy. She’d saved part of Fryberg’s, which was like saving part of her family.

  “Don’t hurt yourself gloating,” James said.

  His comment only made her chuckle a second time. Heaven help her, but she was starting to enjoy their verbal jousts. “I’m trying, but it’s hard when I was so right. People really love that elk. We should have taken your picture.”

  “Why? For you to hang in your office?”

  “Uh-huh. With a piece of paper underneath that reads The Time I Told James Hammond So.” She waved her hand over the wheel as though painting the words in the air.

  “Oh, well. Guess my memory will have to do.”

  From the corners of her eyes, she saw him shifting his position until he faced her. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re cute when you’re being smug?”

  “No,” Noelle replied.

  The feel of his eyes on her turned her skin warm. It had been a long time since a man had studied her, let alone one with eyes as intense as his. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit she found h
is scrutiny flattering. All morning long, she’d sensed him stealing glances here and there, checking her out as she reached for an item from a shelf or adjusted her rearview mirror. The sensation left goose bumps on her skin, not to mention a warm awareness deep inside her.

  It felt good, being noticed by a man. That was, a man like him. Someone smart and savvy. Who took charge of a space simply by entering it. His scrutiny left her feeling decidedly female.

  Plus, it kept her from feeling guilty about her own stolen glances. She’d been looking his way since their conversation in front of the fire.

  She was stealing a look now.

  “Getting ready to gloat more?” James’s eyes had slid in her direction, catching her. Try as she might to stop them, her cheeks started to burn.

  “No,” she said. “I’m done gloating.”

  “Glad to hear it. Why the look then? You looked like you were about to say something.”

  Had she? “I was looking at your shirt,” she replied. “You...” Her cheeks burned hotter. “You wear plaid well.”

  “Thank you.” The compliment clearly took him by surprise, which was okay, because she was surprised she’d said it out loud. “I’m glad you like it since it’s going to be a wardrobe staple while I’m here.”

  Interestingly, he didn’t say anything about leaving. But then, the snow probably made flying impossible.

  More interesting was how relieved she felt about his staying.

  Again.

  And heaven help her, it wasn’t only the banter she was enjoying. She was enjoying James’s company. A lot. “We can stop at the boutique and grab you a new shirt if you’d like.”

  “Are you saying you don’t like this shirt?” he asked.

  “Not at all. I mean, I like the shirt,” she corrected when his brows lifted. “I told you, you look good in plaid.”

  “Thank you. You look good in...red and white stripes.”

  Sensing that another blush was working its way to the surface, she quickly turned her face to scan the left lane. “Color of the day,” she murmured.

 

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