by Leah Atwood
“So, what are you going to do?”
She shrugged. “I’ve had it.” Lifting her chin, she consulted the clock on the wall. “There’s a four o’clock bus. I think I’ll just head on home.”
“You’re giving up?”
Shelby stood. “I prefer to think of it as letting go. I’ve been trying too hard. I’ve got to admit that it just wasn’t meant to be.”
Chapter Ten
A few minutes later, Shelby stepped outside and started walking the half block up Sixth to her bus stop. She pulled up her hood, blinking the wetness from her eyes. No one around her seemed to be having as hard a time as she was, and only a few umbrellas bobbed in the crowd. Were Seattleites just used to walking underwater?
As she approached the yellow and white sign with the Metro icon on it, she leaned out past the curb and saw her bus a couple of blocks down. Since there was no shelter at this stop, she walked over to the indented alcove leading to the doorway of the office building across from it, so she could at least take a stab at staying dry.
Having nothing else to do while she waited, besides feeling sorry for herself, she looked through the elaborate brass-framed glass doors, admiring the design of the small lobby. Even though this building was next door to the one she worked in, she really hadn’t looked at it closely. She loved the old buildings in this area that had—so far, anyway—survived Seattle’s love affair with demolition.
She moved closer, studying the two ornate elevator doors inside that were like architectural works of art. She caught her bus at this stop every day. Why had she never even noticed them before?
As she looked at the polished brass set against the sleek marble wall, something between the two elevators caught her eye. The building directory was posted there, with each business listed on its own individual nameplate.
She squinted. There on the bottom corner was a familiar-looking logo. Three circles with three symbols. Just like the logo on the maroon jacket. Just…like it.
She frowned. It couldn’t be…could it?
Comprehension rattled her brain. It would totally make sense that someone working in this building would walk the half block down to Streebecks. After all, that would be the closest of the roughly one hundred and thirty-three coffee options in the downtown area.
A roaring sound snapped her attention to the sidewalk’s edge as her bus pulled up to the curb, reminding her why she was standing there. People started to get off and others got on. She hesitated, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. What should she do? Get on the bus and spend another lonely evening wondering what might have been? Or take a chance that this new lead might actually take her to the green-eyed stranger? What would Nancy Drew do?
She looked up. Jesus, what would You do?
And the bigger question…. What do You want me to do?
Why did finding him still seem so important? Cynthia had told her that the guy was buying the bells for his ‘someone special.’ But now that she really thought about it, that could mean anything. Not necessarily ‘special’ in a romantic sense. Besides, she was under a moral obligation to do everything she could to return the bells to the person who had lost them.
As the last people stepped up into the bus, Shelby made her decision. What did she have to lose? She yanked open the weighty glass door and marched straight up to the business directory.
Yes! She’d been right. The three circles held a cross, a dove, and a heart, and it was the logo for a business called Impact Ministries, which sounded vaguely familiar. She thought for a moment. Was that the name on the bottom of the Giving Tree tags?
She stood there, letting that thought roll through her mind. Did her guy actually work for the same company that ran the shelter after all? Maybe she hadn’t made as much of a fool of herself as she’d thought.
With renewed hope, she looked at the directory and saw that their offices occupied the entire eighth floor of this building.
She hit the elevator button and said another prayer.
A minute later, she stepped out onto floor eight, clutching the small bag between her fingers. As she moved toward a glass door with the name Impact Ministries painted on it, a wave of self-consciousness hit her. What did she think she was going to do, barge in and demand to see the gorgeous guy with dark hair and green eyes? Well, that wouldn’t be a whole lot crazier than anything she’d done on this mission so far. She might as well go for it.
As she stepped into the warm, comfortable waiting area, the receptionist looked up. “Can I help you?” Her greeting was pleasant but held an undertone of anxiety.
Shelby moved fully into the office, and held up the bag. “I…I was just looking for someone. I don’t know his name, but I think he might have left this behind where I work.”
“Uh huh.” The woman shoved a clipboard and an empty doughnut box aside so she had a clearer view across the counter between them. “And you work where?”
“Streebecks Coffee.” Feeling suddenly ridiculous, she handed the bag to the woman. “I know it’s a longshot. The guy probably doesn’t—”
“Kim, I…” A man with light brown hair stepped out of the office to the left of the receptionist desk. He stopped talking when he saw Shelby. “Oh, sorry to interrupt.”
“That’s okay.” Feeling like a fool for interfering with their workday, Shelby reached out to take the bag back, but the receptionist opened it with interest.
“She says someone from here left this at her store.” She held it open for the man to see. “You didn’t lose this, did you, Jake?”
The man—Jake—shook his head. “What is it?”
Shelby pointed to the small white boxes. “They’re Christmas bells. Hand painted. Like ornaments.”
Jake let out a laugh. “Let me guess.” He poked a finger into the bag. “There are five of them, right?”
Startled by this unanticipated response, Shelby nodded. “That’s right.”
With a confident cluck of his tongue, Jake rolled up the top of the bag and gripped it with his fist. “Chris will be thrilled to have these back.”
Chris? Her heart started to pound even faster than it had been already. “So, you know for sure that he’s the one who lost them?”
“He thought he left them at home.” His warm brown eyes sparkled with residual amusement. “Where did you say you work?”
Finding it hard to keep her inner voice in line with her speaking voice, Shelby managed to squeak out, “I…I work at Streebecks.”
“Streebecks Coffee? That’s weird. He never goes there.” He gave Shelby a smile that squelched any doubt she might have had as to his sincerity. “Thanks for returning them. He’ll be really happy to have them tonight.”
Tonight? She nodded. “Well, good.”
Jake turned his attention back to whatever he had come out to discuss with the receptionist, but Shelby didn’t move. Why wasn’t she leaving? She had succeeded in her mission of returning the bells to their owner. Why didn’t she just walk away?
She took in a loud breath, and both Jake and the receptionist looked up at her.
“Um…” Say something, Shelby. “What is it that you…do here?”
The receptionist gave her a practiced smile along with what was probably an equally practiced response. “We’re a nonprofit family of ministries serving Seattle in the areas of education, homelessness, domestic abuse, senior living and healthcare.” She reached forward on her desk, then held up a sheet of folded glossy paper. “Would you like a brochure?”
“Oh, sure.” Shelby took it, and drew her backpack around so she could put the brochure inside to read later. “I’ve been wanting to find a…I mean I would love to get involved with something so meaningful.”
Both Jake and the receptionist nodded, looking at her as if they expected her to continue.
“Um…” A sensation of either gaining her nerve or losing her mind preceded the next question. “I’m just wondering…. Chris. What does he look like?”
“Oh, you know
.” Jake looked a little thrown off by her abrupt change of track. “Dark brown hair…”
“And green eyes?”
Looking down at her desk, the receptionist lifted her hand to her mouth like she was trying to hide a smile.
“Yeah.” Jake smiled again too. “I guess so.”
She nodded. “Is he coming back here today?”
“Nope.” He looked at her like he didn’t quite know how to reassure her more than he already had. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll make sure these get to him in time.” He lifted the bag, then gave a polite bob of his head before turning his attention back to his conversation.
All the emotion that had built up in Shelby over the past couple of hours drained out, leaving an inexplicable emptiness in its place. She had done it. She’d found her guy—Chris. But she hadn’t actually gotten to see him again. And how could she possibly orchestrate another encounter with him? Even if she worked night shifts regularly, he might not ever return to her Streebecks. He never went there. Jake had said as much. She should just forget about him. Him and his perfect eyes that were the color of mistletoe.
She nodded a weak ‘thank you’, swinging her backpack onto her shoulder as she turned to go. Something clattered on the floor at her feet and she realized to her dismay that she had knocked the clipboard off the counter. She huffed out exasperation. Why did she always have to be so clumsy?
As she knelt down to retrieve it, she couldn’t help but read the heading on the colorful piece of paper it held. Christmas Event Sign-up. Her heart skipped a beat. There at the top of the page was Chris’ name. He had signed up to organize a bell choir at the downtown tree lighting.
Adrenaline flooded that space which had only just been vacated by drained emotion. When was it…? Tonight! Jake had said something about Chris needing the bells tonight, and this must have been what he was talking about.
She quickly noted the information. ‘Meet at four thirty at the McDonald’s end of Westlake.’ Westlake…Westlake Center? She had seen the huge tree in the courtyard earlier, so of course that totally made sense.
Standing and replacing the clipboard, she glanced at her phone. Four sixteen.
Her thoughts raced. This was another opportunity. A green light to keep going. If she just happened to run into him at the mall, and recognized him as a customer…well, that kind of thing happened, right?
Besides, it was almost dinner time, and a girl had to eat. What was so weird about grabbing a bite at the mall before watching the Christmas tree lighting?
Gerald. The name sat like an unrelenting bully in Chris’ mind, taunting him. Why couldn’t he clear his head and just move past this?
After making sure the ladies were situated in the curtained-off area that had been assigned to them to use as a dressing room, Chris lugged the two cases full of hand bells out onto the mall’s big balcony. It had been close, but he’d made it on time to meet the shuttle and bring everybody upstairs. In all the time he’d known these people, he’d never seen them so excited about anything. He really wanted this performance to go well for their sakes.
After getting instructions for where to set up, he started unloading, keeping an eye on the security entrance. There was still no sign of either Jake or Tom, and if he didn’t have both of them to help out tonight, he was going to have his hands full.
At least that would help him take his mind off Shelby.
He rolled some of the anxiety out of his shoulders. Maybe he had become what some might think of as borderline obsessive over this girl because it had provided a nice distraction from his concerns about work. That would make sense. But now he really needed to set all of that aside and just focus on making sure the ladies had a good time. They had been working so hard all year for this night, and he didn’t want them to sense his unease.
The door from inside swung open, and a surge of excited, indistinct voices carried out into the air. He looked up to see that the inside area had started to fill with people who were either there to perform or to attend the VIP party that would be going on all evening. His stomach jumped a little when he realized he hadn’t been keeping an eye on the dressing room. It had been his experience that his ladies were prone to wandering, especially if there was something appealing like food or shopping nearby. He’d better go check on them, because when show time came, he could not be short on bell ringers.
“Ladies, it’s Chris.” Standing outside their dressing area, he called through the curtain. “How’s it going? Does anyone need anything?”
His questions were met with a chorus of animated responses, from which he managed to differentiate five distinct voices. After confirming that they were all present and in need of nothing but reassurance, he pulled out his phone to check the time. Four twenty-four. His guys should be there at any minute, and Tom should be letting him know to meet him at security so he could hand him his pass.
Sure enough, a message had just come through from him. Chris clicked on it and read.
Stuck on I-5. Trffix at a standstill.
Chris felt the anxiety he’d just expelled from his shoulders roll right into his chest. How many times had he told Tom that he’d need to be in the downtown area well before their designated meeting time, or the Christmas traffic would swallow him whole.
He rubbed at an ache that had taken up residence in his temple. He’d really been counting on Tom to be there, but if he and Jake had to handle it alone then so be it.
After sending a no-problem-drive-safely response to Tom, he walked back outside. These hand bells were not only extremely valuable, but borrowed, and he couldn’t take any chances that anything might happen to them. His track record with bells this week wasn’t exactly flawless, and he couldn’t afford to pay for any losses.
After assuring himself that they were all sitting there just as he’d left them, he leaned on the railing and looked down at the crowd gathering around the tree.
Couples and families. Guys holding small children on their shoulders. The sight made his heart ache even worse than his head.
Sure, he had special people in his life, but that wasn’t like having a special someone. Was that ever going to happen for him?
The thought seemed to skewer his heart like an arrow. Was that what this moodiness was all about? He was afraid of winding up alone?
Shake it off, Chris.
He heaved a sigh, happy at least that he could stay up there and away from the crowd of people who, unlike him, seemed to be carefree and full of spirit this Christmas season.
Chapter Eleven
Shelby pushed through one set of glass doors then another, pleased that she’d made it to the mall with a few minutes to spare. It was four twenty-five. All she had to do was locate the place where Chris was supposed to meet his people. And how hard could it be to find the McDonald’s?
She scooted around the glass elevator and bumped her way through the crowd of shoppers. Ahead, she saw a big sign that was practically as tall as she was standing in the middle of the walkway. She squinted. It was a giant picture of a pretzel covered in salt crystals that sparkled like diamonds. Next to the pretzel, a cup of cheese sauce the size of a child’s wading pool awaited dipping. Above the picture were the words Get Your Snack Together. Food Court, Third Level.
Bingo. She hurried past the sign and started to climb the escalator, shifting past people and dodging unwieldy shopping bags.
As she hit the second level, the inviting aroma of pizza pulled her like a siren song to the next set of escalators.
At the third floor, she stopped and looked around. From where she stood, she could see a Mrs. Fields Cookies, the pretzel stand, the pizza place, and Asian foods of every imaginable variety, but no McDonald’s.
She bumped her way through the crowd to where a row of kiosks separated the food stands from the seating area, and zeroed in on a teenage girl with a pierced nose, a pierced eyebrow, and fuchsia-colored hair, who stood selling trendy hats and handbags.
“Excuse me.” Aware that t
he minutes were ticking away, and that her window of opportunity was about to slam shut, Shelby tried to sound urgent but not desperate. “Where is the McDonald’s in the mall?”
“In the mall?” As the teen creased her forehead, the ring in her eyebrow shifted in a way that made Shelby suppress a cringe. “The closest Mickey D’s is down on Third.” She tipped her head back at an angle. “But I wouldn’t go there if I were you. Especially not at night.” She leaned in, as if to confide a Seattle secret. “It’s a little…you know…sketchy.”
“Oh…” Shelby stepped back as the girl turned her attention to a woman trying on an orchid-colored hat with a wide, floppy brim.
What now? Did that mean the bell choir was meeting on the end of the mall closest to the McDonald’s that was two blocks away? That would put them near the tree, but it didn’t tell her which level to go to.
In her mind, her green light switched to yellow. Time was wasting.
“There used to be a McDonald’s in the food court.”
Shelby turned to see a frazzled-looking woman with a couple of kids in tow. “Really?”
The woman gave her a weary smile. “It’s been gone for a few years now, but it used to be right down there.” Having neither hand free, she resorted to using her chin as a pointer. “The last food booth on the end.”
Shelby looked past the kiosk to the far end of the mall, where white panels covered a space that had obviously once been a food stand. Next to it, floor-to-ceiling black curtains blocked off that entire end of the food court.
“People still call it ‘the McDonald’s end of the mall’.” The woman shrugged her eyebrows. “Old habits die hard.”
“Thank you so much.”
As Shelby worked her way in that direction, the picture became clear. This was the part of the mall that looked out onto the courtyard, where the tree stood. They must be using the balcony as the performance area, and the curtains must be cordoning off a makeshift backstage. It totally made sense that this would be where Chris would meet his people.