He’d always been focused on his profit margin. “A better life for your employees! What about yourself? You’re one of the lowest paid employees in the store.” He’d been surprised that she only took a minimum hourly wage.
“I’m a TFB,” she said.
“And that is?” She had acronyms for everything.
“A trust fund baby. I don’t need my salary to live on. My grandfather and my father invested in a lot of businesses in this city and I own a little chunk of them now, too.” She took a bite of her roll and smiled. “Let me tell you a little story. Twenty years ago my grandfather gave a job to a woman to cook in the cafeteria. One day he took a bite of her meat loaf, fired her and helped her start her own restaurant.” She held her arms out. “Welcome to my grandfather’s and Nancie’s vision. And to this day I still own a little piece of this chain. I’m a 5 percent owner. You’re right, I don’t need Bennett’s financially. Emotionally, that’s a different story.”
Eli didn’t feel the same way about Dollar Bin. He didn’t need it emotionally. He could be making any widget in the world and have no emotional investment. Seeing the love in Darcy’s eyes when she was dealing with even the smallest problem was an emotion so strange to him, he didn’t know what to say. “Bennett’s is just a store. People shop, spend some money and go home.”
He knew he’d said the wrong thing from the look of anger that washed over her face and he suddenly felt ashamed.
“Granted,” she said, “but it’s a great place to shop. Bennett’s is an experience.” She bit the side of her lip. “Bennett’s was never supposed to make tons of money. My grandfather just wanted to provide for his family. But once he got started, and saw the impact of the store, Bennett’s became something greater than itself.” She rested her hands on the table. “You’ve been talking about profit margin since you walked in the door. Why?”
“It’s not making the kind of profit it could.”
“How much money do you need to live on?” she queried.
“That’s an odd question coming from a girl who’s always been rich.”
“I give a lot of money away to different charities. What do you do with your money?”
“I reinvest it.” He never wanted to be poor again, or beholden to others. He didn’t like not having money, of not having control of his destiny. He didn’t want to be afraid, to be dependent on others. “I want my daughter to have the freedom to make the choices I never had.”
“What choices?” She sounded sincere.
For a second he thought about his dream. He wasn’t certain he wanted to tell her. He’d said something to his mother once, and she’d told him how impractical it was. “I wanted to be a high school history teacher.”
She stared at him. “Really? History? I hated history.”
How could she hate history? Eli loved it from the most ancient of civilizations to the present. “Because your teachers couldn’t make it come alive for you.” He remembered his own history teacher, Mrs. Yancy. Mrs. Yancy had changed his perception of the past. She’d made it alive, and he’d fallen in love with what everyone else thought was a dry, useless topic.
She studied him, her face suddenly sad. “In other words, you sucked it up.”
“Excuse me? Sucked what up!”
“You took over the family business before you were ready, didn’t you?”
He’d put aside his dream for reality, but the memory never went away. “I had just turned twenty-one a month before I should’ve been graduating from college.” He’d already had a job lined up and was impatient for the summer to end so he could start his life, the life he wanted, had prepared for. The pain of giving up his dreams was still deeply embedded inside him.
“You gave up your dream.”
“I did what had to be done.” Even he heard the slight bitterness in his voice. He’d never gone back to finish his degree and he regretted it. Somehow, the need to be financially independent had become an obsession with him.
“What’s stopping you now from going back to school?”
“Must be because I have a daughter to raise and a company to run.” He sounded bitter again.
“You can hire people to do that.”
“I don’t trust other people.”
“You’re wealthy. What do you think will happen if you take a few years off to do what you want do? Dollar Bin won’t fall on its face. Bennett’s won’t, either. Your daughter will probably be delighted to have more of you to herself instead of all the nannies you can’t seem to keep.”
He stared at her. “You work like a demon.” Like he could do less. He realized he was measuring himself against her, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“I work like a demon because I love it. I love Bennett’s. I love making a difference in other people’s lives.”
He studied her. Her face came alive when she talked about Bennett’s and the lure of her magnetism deepened. “Don’t make me one of your charities.”
She glanced around. “Wasn’t thinking about it.”
“Make sure you don’t start thinking about it,” he admonished, resisting the desire to shake a finger at her. She was an interfering, meddling Pollyanna. Dammit. He liked her. He liked her way too much and he didn’t want to like her.
Their food finally came and as he dug into the most heavenly meat loaf he’d ever eaten he couldn’t help staring at Darcy. She stared back with the most innocent look on her face.
Chapter 8
Darcy watched him dig in to his meal as though he’d been starving for months. She repressed a smile. She would have to tell Nancie she had a new convert to her meat loaf. Nancie would be surprised, since she had reported to Darcy, after working with Mr. Eli Austin, she didn’t think he had much use for non–haute cuisine food.
“This is good. Better than my mother’s and she’s a pretty decent cook,” Eli said as he scooped up the last of the gravy with a roll.
“I’m sure Nancie would appreciate hearing that.” Darcy pushed her empty plate away.
Eli Austin was a study in contradictions. But then again, Darcy always felt most men were. Hard-
hitting businessmen during the day, and softies at night. She knew he was a softie because of his love for Sophia.
“Sophia had fun today,” Darcy said, remembering how Sophia had taken charge of a small group of toddlers, under the supervision of one of the day care workers, and played games with them.
“Sophia has changed,” Eli said finally, finished with his food. He gestured at the waitress for more coffee. “I haven’t seen her this content since before her mother died.”
“She’s very helpful at the day care center, too. And I think she has a project.”
“What do you mean she has a project?” Eli said with a frown.
“She doesn’t spend a lot of time with kids her age. She seems to spend more time with the little ones. She’s turned into a little mother hen according to Jill.”
“You mean people report to you about my daughter’s activities?”
“I ask,” Darcy said. The waitress brought the dessert menu and she perused it. “Red velvet cake,” she said. Eli waved the menu away.
He looked surprised. “Why do you ask about Sophia’s activities? Or any of the children’s activities?”
She tilted her head to study him, wondering how to say what she wanted to say without looking like she was prying. “Children are a great barometer of their home life. If there’s a problem, the children are the first to show the stress. And if I can step in, those problems don’t come to my store.”
“My store,” he said.
“Fine, your store.”
The waitress brought her dessert and refilled her water glass. “So are you planning on letting me go after Christmas?”
“You’re the heart, the lynchpin
of Bennett’s. I’ve been here nearly a week and I’ve already learned we’re going to butt heads a lot, you and I, but I’d be a fool to get rid of you.”
“There’s hope for you, yet,” she said with a sly smile as she took a bite of her red velvet cake with cream-cheese icing and just a touch of chocolate. Nancie only baked red velvet cake at Christmas.
“That doesn’t mean I’m giving up. We’re going to battle, and I’m looking forward to it.”
She wasn’t certain how to respond to that. Even though they would never see eye to eye on how Bennett’s was run, she couldn’t help thinking Eli was the kind of man she could fall in love with. She was annoyed with herself because they weren’t on the same page about the most important thing in her life.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” she asked, a forkful of cake halfway to her mouth.
“You have this distasteful look on your face.”
“I had a bad thought.”
“How bad could it be?”
“Bad enough,” she said and forked the cake into her mouth, letting the rich taste roll over her tongue. If her mouth was full she wouldn’t have to answer the question. The fact that she liked him so totally surprised her. She wanted to go home, crawl into bed and just think about this. Something that wouldn’t happen since her mother had moved into the guest room and didn’t look like she was leaving anytime soon. If she confided in her mother, she could just imagine what Marilyn would say.
His phone rang and he answered. “What’s up, Roo?”
Darcy leaned back against the bench and forced her thoughts away from him.
He listened to his daughter and then said goodbye. He glanced up at the waitress. “Check, please.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. Sophia’s ready for bed and she wants her good-night kiss.”
Darcy laughed. “A wise man does not have unhappy women living in his house.”
Eli laughed and Darcy saw the stress drain from his face and she realized she’d never really heard him laugh. Her heart did a little lurch as she reached for her coat and purse as Eli took a credit card out and handed it to the waitress.
After paying, he guided her out to the car. “I’ll take you home.”
“You don’t need to, I can get a taxi.”
“No,” he said, and opened the door.
She brushed past him and got in. He closed the door and she buckled up.
The drive home was silent. As he parked in front of her apartment, she started to let herself out. When she came around the car, she found him standing next to the open door.
“Darcy,” he said. “I would never have thought you’d live here. It’s so…so Bohemian.”
She paused and eyed him curiously. “Deep down inside, underneath my high fashion attire, I’m a little on the Bohemian side. Besides, I just like it here in the center of the arts district. It’s so alive and I get some of my best ideas just sitting here watching people. Thank you for dinner.”
She started to turn, and he laid a hand on her arm. She glanced up at him and his slipped around her and he kissed her, his lips warm on hers.
Sensation exploded inside of her and his firm lips moved over hers. Her brain had gone into total meltdown. For a second she was confused, but she felt her arms slip around her broad shoulders and pull him closer.
Dear God, he was addictive. His lips moved over hers slowly, as if he were savoring her feel. Her entire body was on fire. She heard him moan, or maybe it was her. In her passion-fogged brain she wasn’t sure.
“Darcy.”
The way he whispered her name against her lips made her want more. “Yes.”
His lips stopped. And for a brief second she was suspended on a cloud of desire for him that was so totally unexpected, she didn’t know what to think.
Then he pulled away. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw the look of utter shock on his face. He stepped back. His mouth moved. “Forgive me,” he said, then walked away from her, leaving her openmouthed and confused.
Darcy’s hands trembled as she put her key in the lock and opened the door. As she closed it, he drove away, leaving her in an emotional turmoil so strong she could barely walk up the stairs.
Darcy bypassed her apartment and walked up to James’s. She banged on the door. When James opened it looking rumpled and tired, she barged in.
“Darcy,” he asked in alarm.
“Eli kissed me,” she snarled, stalking toward the living room.
James’s apartment was similar in layout to hers except his had a huge north-facing studio at the end of the living room. His furniture was more for comfort than style and Darcy always felt more at ease here than in her own apartment. Not that her apartment was uncomfortable, she just liked James’s casualness. Even when they were married he’d never asked her for money, paying for his own possessions from the sales of his painting. The paintings that had once gone for a few hundred here and there and now went for tens of thousands.
“I’ll get some wine. Come on in and make yourself comfortable.” He disappeared toward the galley kitchen.
She whirled and looked him up and down. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” She realized he could have had a friend with him. She knew he was dating one of the women in the accounts payable department.
“I got back from New York an hour ago. I’m actually too excited to sleep. The gallery is going to take some of my paintings.”
“That’s terrific, James.” She sat down on the sofa.
James returned with a bottle of chardonnay and two glasses. “So tell me about the kiss?”
The kiss, she thought. Why did Eli have to kiss her? Suddenly everything between them had changed. “Everything was going fine. We went to dinner and talked about the store, the job fair and then he brought me home. He didn’t even say anything to me. A girl has to be prepared for a kiss.” A kiss that literally rocked her to her core and tilted her world on a crazy axis. She could still feel the warmth of his lips on hers. Her mind replayed the kiss over and over.
“You like surprises.”
“You’re not helping, James.” She took the glass of wine from him. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
James laughed. “I’m on your side.”
Darcy just sighed. “I liked the kiss. I like him. That’s not good.”
“Darcy, you’re not a nun. You’re a beautiful woman and men are attracted to you.”
“Most of the time, they’re just attracted to the money. Like Simon.” In her mind she called her stepfather “what’s his name.” She knew he’d married her mother for her money, not for love. “Except for you. That’s why I married you.”
James just grinned. “You married me to mess with your mother’s head.”
“I did not. I married you because you still wear your dad’s Timex watch.”
He looked confused. “What does my Timex have to do with why you married me?”
She took a sip of the wine. “Nothing, really. But once we were married you didn’t throw it away and buy a Rolex.”
“I didn’t want a Rolex.” He glanced fondly at the watch on his wrist. “This watch reminds me of what I have to live up to. When my life gets crazy I have a little reminder.”
His father had been a cop killed on the job. Darcy remembered reading about it. The uproar in Atlanta hadn’t been about the loss of a good cop, but that he was black and the white administration wasn’t moving too quickly on the investigation.
Darcy leaned back against the sofa.
“Let’s get back to you,” James said. “About that kiss.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She jumped to her feet and started pacing the living room.
“Sure you don’t. Who was the last guy to k
iss you?”
She stopped in the middle of a turn and glared at him. “You.”
“We’ve been divorced almost five years.” James stared at her incredulously. “Have you even had a date in all that time?”
“You live upstairs from me, what do you think?” She didn’t want to admit she hadn’t had a date. “I’ve been busy.”
“For five years!”
“Just because you’ve been nominated as one of the top ten bachelors in Atlanta doesn’t give you any reason to judge.”
He shook his head. “I know you’re not pining for me. Because you know I have moved on.”
“And so have I.”
“With no dates. The only thing you’re dating is the store.”
“You and my mother. She told me she allowed the sale to save my life. I’m too involved and she thinks our marriage ended because of that.”
“Your mother married a doofus because she was afraid of being alone. She’s the last person in the world to judge you. Your dad loved the store and his love didn’t wreck his marriage with your mom. They adored each other until the day he passed away. I don’t understand why she feels that way.”
“Mom felt my dad was a little too involved also, but he was a man and men can get away with being obsessed with their careers. Women can’t. They are held to a totally different standard and my mother is doing exactly that.” She ran her fingers across her brow. “Other women have careers and families and manage to balance them. I don’t understand why Mom feels I can’t do the same.”
“You know your mother better than she does. Your mother was raised to be a wife, mother and hostess. She was supposed to have children, get a nanny, arrange flowers and plan her husband’s social schedule. That’s how she wanted you to be raised, but your dad decided otherwise. And you’re an only child. Make no mistake, your mom loves you, but you’re just not the daughter she envisioned. She wanted a little clone like her. Don’t think badly of her, she wasn’t given the same tools you were given.”
My Only Christmas Wish Page 9