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A Fool's Gold Christmas

Page 16

   


“This is the one, isn’t it?” Tammy asked. “You said Alexander, but sometimes people get names mixed up.”
“This is him.”
Evie walked over to the cat and held out her fingers for him to sniff. “Hi, big guy. How are you doing?”
His green eyes narrowed slightly. He took an obligatory sniff, then turned away.
“Does he hate me?” Evie asked, not sure what his actions meant in the cat world. If she were on a blind date, she would know exactly what he was thinking and it wouldn’t be flattering.
“He’s making you work for it,” Tammy told her. “Keep talking to him and then pet him. He’s going to make you earn his trust.”
“I can respect that,” she said, keeping her voice quiet. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be very trusting, either.”
She lightly touched his back. While he didn’t flinch, he wasn’t relaxed, either. His shoulders got a little hunchy. She continued to stroke him, moving slowly and gently, not making sudden moves.
The phone rang.
“I need to get that,” Tammy told her. “I’ll be right back.”
Evie nodded and kept her attention on the cat. She lengthened the strokes so she was petting him from shoulder to tail. After a couple of minutes, he relaxed. By the time Tammy returned, he was actually glancing at her with something slightly warmer than disdain.
“I like him,” Evie said. “I need to make sure I’m ready for a cat, but I’m leaning in that direction for sure. Has anyone else said they’re interested in him?”
“No. He’s not a kitten, which makes his adoption more challenging. But I can let you know if we get any calls before the event.”
“That would be great.” Evie glanced at her watch. “I have to run. Thanks for this, Tammy.”
“No problem. I hope you take him. He’s a great guy.”
“Bye, Alexander.”
The cat looked at her. His eyes narrowed slightly as if he realized she was leaving. Then he turned away. Evie wanted to tell him that she might be giving him a forever home, but stopped herself. Until she was sure, it wouldn’t be right to allow him to hope. Unfortunately, explaining to herself that Alexander didn’t speak English didn’t make her feel any less awful about leaving without him.
* * *
EVIE WAS ALREADY LATE. She hurried through town on her way to Ronan’s Lodge, glancing at her watch as she went. Thoughts of Dante and her family and the production had kept her tossing and turning much of the night. Now she had to face a morning of book wrapping. She hoped there was an instructional session first.
She glanced longingly at the Starbucks as she passed, but there was no time. As she waited to cross at the light, three teenaged girls came out of the coffee place and spotted her.
“OMG! That’s her!” A tall blonde in skinny jeans and a heavy down coat raced toward her. “Ms. Stryker? Could you wait a second?”
The other two girls with her were both brunettes with big eyes and wide smiles. All three of them were clutching to-go drink containers.
The blonde spoke first. “You’re Evie Stryker, right?”
Evie nodded slowly.
“This is so cool. I’m Viv and these are my friends Tai and Wendy. We’re cheerleaders.” Viv’s grin broadened. “I’m actually team captain this year.”
“Congratulations,” Evie said, hoping the uneasy feeling she had in her stomach was uncalled for and that the girls were just being extra Fool’s Gold friendly.
Viv held her drink in both hands. “Every year we do a fundraiser for the squad. We save money to go to cheerleading camp in the summer.”
“Okay,” Evie said slowly, the unease turning to sinking. “What kind of fundraiser?”
“We do a Pom-Pom-A-Thon,” Tai, or maybe Wendy, said. “People hire us to go to someone’s house and do cheers, only they’re Christmas related.”
The three of them glanced at each other, then shouted together, “Hey, hey, ho, ho. Merry Christmas and away we go.”
Viv laughed. “They’re not all that lame, I promise. We were thinking that we’re not as good as we could be. So we’ve got some friends in the creative writing club helping us with new cheers. We were wondering if you could help us with some moves. After all, you were a professional cheerleader, right?”
Evie winced. Her short-lived career as an L.A. Stallions cheerleader had ended badly and wasn’t anything she wanted to talk about.
“The Stallions’ squad was more about dance than cheering,” she said.
The three teens looked at each other, then back at her. “That’s what we want,” Viv said. “Some ideas to add a little fun to our routines. It would only take a couple of hours. Please.”
Evie thought about the book wrapping and the performance, the students she had to work with privately, her volunteering for the pet adoption and how she couldn’t seem to take a step without running into someone from her family. This was not the time to take on one more project.
But as she looked at the girls, she couldn’t seem to summon the word no. She sighed. “Sure. I can help. I have to help wrap books right now and then maybe after that?”
“You’re working with Annabelle?” Viv asked. “With the book drive? We’re going there, too.” She turned to her friends. “We need to work really hard so Evie can have more time with us.”
Which would be great for Annabelle and less thrilling for herself, Evie thought, knowing she might as well simply give in to the inevitable.
The four of them made their way to the hotel. Signs directed them to the ballroom. As Evie stepped through the open double doors, she realized she hadn’t known what to expect. A few boxes of books and some tables, maybe. It was that times a thousand.
There were at least forty tables set up. On each one was a box, a roll of gift wrap, tape and a sheet of colored stickers. A small crowd was clustered together near the front of the room. Evie and the cheerleaders joined them.
Heidi was there, along with Patience and Charlie. Jo, from the bar where they’d all had brunch on Thanksgiving. She recognized a few other people from town, along with a few of her students’ moms. Annabelle checked her watch, then waved to get everyone’s attention.
“Thank you for coming,” she said. “I’m hoping this won’t take very long. I know the season is busy and I appreciate the time and effort you’re offering.”
Evie felt a warm hand settle on the small of her back. She turned and saw Dante standing next to her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in a whisper.
“Rafe was supposed to come, but he’s on a conference call that’s gone long. I offered to represent the company.”
He smiled as he spoke. Evie found herself easing toward him, wanting to press her body against his. Remembering the cheerleaders who were no doubt keeping an eye on her, she forced herself to stand straight and pretend she wasn’t tingling from the light touch on her back.
“Every table has a box of books,” Annabelle was saying. “They are grouped together by age and gender. So please don’t trade books with anyone else. When you’ve wrapped the book, put one of the stickers on the upper right corner. The sticker tells the age range and whether the book is for a boy or a girl. Again, please don’t trade stickers.”
“There are a lot of rules,” Dante whispered into her ear.
Evie fought off a shiver as her body pointed out that every single part of her really liked what this man could do to her and that it had been a while since they’d seen each other na**d.
“Behave,” she said.
“I am.”
She winced, realizing she’d actually been talking to herself rather than him.
Annabelle sent them off to find tables. The cheerleaders took one together and Dante joined Evie.
“Who are your friends?” he asked, motioning to the teens who were taking books out of the box and unrolling the paper.
“They’re on the high school cheerleading squad. I’m going to help them with a fundraiser they’re doing.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“I know, I know.” She kept her voice low. “It shouldn’t take too much of my time.”
“You’re in demand,” he said. “Impressive.”
“Overwhelming.”
“How can I help?”
She laughed. “Unless you have a secret background as a cheerleader, I’m not sure you can.”
“Hmm, there is that year I spent working undercover. Let me see what I can remember.”
She laughed and handed him the first book. “Wrap.”
“How about I cut the paper and put on the stickers, and you wrap.”
“Chicken.”
“These are presents for kids. They should look nice.”
“Fine. I’ll wrap.”
They had picked a table with large picture books. For boys, Evie thought, looking at covers with trucks and bugs and camping raccoons.
“I know most women think about having a little girl,” she said, taking the piece of wrapping paper Dante handed her, along with the book he’d cut it for, “but I’ve always pictured myself with sons. I’m guessing that comes from growing up with three brothers.”
“Boys are less complicated,” Dante agreed. “They want to do things. Girls have feelings.”
She laughed. “Are you saying boys don’t?”
“I’m saying I understand what a boy feels. Can you see me sitting at a little table having pretend tea with a four-year-old and her toy bears?”
Evie studied him, taking in the deep blue eyes, handsome face and, as always, well-cut, killer suit. She could totally see Dante falling for a little girl. He would be a protective father, one who kissed a boo-boo to make it better and slayed dragons, be they real or imagined. And, yes, she could imagine him sitting at a too-small table and having pretend tea.
They’d both grown up without a father figure in their lives, so she would guess they both knew how important a dad could be. While children weren’t on her immediate radar, should that happen, she would prefer to have a man around. She doubted he was the kind of man who would ever consider walking away from his kids.
Under other circumstances he might be someone she wanted to consider hanging on to. Only Dante wasn’t into forever, and she was planning on moving on. Although right now her reasons for wanting to leave Fool’s Gold seemed a little fuzzy.
“You’d be great,” Evie told him and centered the book on the wrapping paper.
* * *
IN LESS TIME THAN Dante would have thought, the books were wrapped. Evie went off with her cheerleader fans and he stayed after to help load the wrapped books into boxes for delivery.
Gideon joined him, loading the boxes onto a cart.
“Do you know if Evie’s gone over my suggestions for the production?” he asked.
Dante straightened slowly and stared at the other man. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m doing the narration for The Dance of the Winter King. Didn’t she tell you?”
“No. She didn’t mention it.”
Gideon was tall and moved like someone who knew his way around a fight. Dante recognized the subtle signs from his own early years. The scar by Gideon’s eyebrow and the tattoo visible under his rolled-up shirtsleeves were also a clue.
“I had some suggestions to make the transitions smoother,” Gideon said. “The premise of the story is interesting. I like the message.”
“There’s a message?”
“Sure. Every child is special. Unique.” He gave a quick smile. “Like a snowflake.”
A snowflake? Dante did his best to reconcile the dark, dangerous man in front of him with a guy who talked about children being special snowflakes.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “I’ll, ah, tell her you’re looking for her.”
Just then they were joined by a well-dressed, white-haired woman in a suit. It took Dante a moment to put the name with the face.
“Mayor Marsha,” he said. “Nice to see you again.”
“You, too.” The older woman smiled at both of them. “I’m happy to see you’re settling in. And you’ve met Gideon.” She turned to the other man. “I’m delighted by the Christmas music. Very eclectic choices. Some traditional songs, of course, but I’m very much enjoying the international selections.”
“I like to mix it up,” Gideon told her, winking as he spoke. “Keep folks guessing.”
The mayor glanced at Dante. “Gideon has recently purchased the two radio stations in town. One AM, one FM. The FM station is playing all Christmas music.”
“I’ll have to tune in,” Dante said politely.
“I’m getting lots of good feedback,” Gideon said. “A few local rockers have been by, requesting something else.”
“There are local rockers in Fool’s Gold?” Dante tried to imagine them being happy in the quiet, family friendly town and couldn’t.
“Young rockers,” Gideon said, then nodded at the cart. “I need to get these out to the truck. Good to see you, Mayor Marsha.”
“You, too.”
Dante expected the old lady to move on, but she waited until Gideon had left, then turned to him.
“You’re settling in well.”
He stared at her, not sure if she was asking a question or making a statement.
“This town is very special,” she continued. “A lot is expected of our citizens, but then people get so much in return. Do you know very much about Gideon?”