Susan Meier - A Diamond For Christmas

“So what are you going to do, Shannon, if the store sells?”

That question came from Julie Hughes, a woman in her twenties who gazed at Shannon with stars in her eyes, as if she were the epitome of everything Julie wanted to be when she got a little older.

“I’m not sure.” Shannon smiled, casually leaned her hip on the corner of Julie’s desk, clearly comfortable with her staff. “This is only Mr. Wallace’s first day here. He may look around and decide he doesn’t want to buy us.”

“He’d be crazy,” Fred Cummings said, leaning back in his chair. “We make a ton of money.” He pointed at Shannon. “Due in no small part to changes this woman made after her dad let go of the reins.”

Shannon laughed. “I did a few things. They’ve only been up and running a few months.”

Fred said, “Right.”

But Rory got the message. Fred wouldn’t push anymore because he wouldn’t insult the last company president, Shannon’s dad, in front of Shannon. But it was clear things hadn’t always gone so smoothly at Raleigh’s Department Store.

Heading back to the administrative officer, he said, “This is some place.”

Though she’d downplayed her efforts in front of her staff, in the hall, away from anyone who could see, her face blossomed with pride. “Thank you.”

“But I do have one really big question.”

“Fire away. There’s no question too sacred.”

“Why are you selling Raleigh’s? It’s clear you love this store. You’re also very good at what you do. Why would you want to give it up?”

“My parents need the money from the sale to fund their retirement.”

“Right. I get that. But you love it.” He paused, then asked the question that had been bothering him for the past few hours. “Why don’t you buy it?”

She stopped. Faced him. “I tried. I couldn’t get financing.”

“Oh. Did you try finding a partner?”

“Are you offering?”

He winced. “My family doesn’t partner. We either buy outright or nothing at all.”

“I didn’t think so.”

But Rory wasn’t so easily put off. “You said I’m the first person you approached. Surely there are others, investors who might consider a partnership—”

She laughed slightly. “Rory. Are you trying to talk me out of selling to you?”

“No. It’s just that it’s obvious to me that you’re going to miss the store.” He paused. When she didn’t reply, he said, “There’s more to this story. I need to hear it.”

For a few seconds it looked like she wouldn’t reply. Finally she said, “I’ve actually only been working at the store a year. My husband had unceremoniously dumped me and I was devastated. So I came home. I expected to sleep away the next few months, but my dad wouldn’t let me.” She smiled, as if remembering. “Anyway, he got me working in the store, and when he retired a few months ago, he made me company president. Nobody expected that I’d blossom the way I did. I like the work enough that I could have stayed here the rest of my life.” She shrugged. “But my parents need the money, so I have to move on. But, on the bright side, at least now I know what I want to do with my life.”

“Run another store?”

“Maybe. Or maybe just head up the buyers.” She smiled. “Or the advertising department, public relations…”

He laughed. “You won’t be happy unless you can have your finger in every pot.”

But even as he laughed, an uncomfortable lump formed in his stomach. “I feel like I’m taking away your dream.”

She shook her head. “Running my parents’ store is not my dream. It’s just a really great job.”

“So what is your dream?”

She started walking again, but he’d seen the sadness that shadowed her face.

If he wasn’t taking away her dream by buying the store, something was up with her. He considered that maybe she couldn’t handle another change in her life only one year after her divorce. But she was a strong, competent woman. He believed her when she said she was over her ex and the accompanying sadness from her divorce.

So what was it?

Why did he know, deep in his gut, that something serious haunted her and somehow, some way, he contributed to it?

He caught her arm and stopped her.

When he didn’t say anything, she said, “Question?”

He stared into her pretty blue eyes. All the physical reactions he’d held at bay all weekend came flooding back. Only now they were combined with emotions. He cared about her. He cared about her a lot. He didn’t want to take away her dreams. He liked her.

The urge to kiss her itched through him again and he was growing tired of fighting it. Tired of fighting the first good thing that had happened to him in two long years.

When his head lowed toward hers, he didn’t try to stop himself. For the first time since his divorce, he wasn’t just physically attracted to a woman. He liked her.

Their lips met tentatively, just a quick brush. But response shivered through him. Attraction. Arousal. Wonderful forgotten sensations that he’d avoided, ignored or smothered over the past two years.

He deepened the kiss, pressing his mouth against hers and though he felt her hesitate, she pressed back.

She liked him.

Just when he would have deepen the kiss, made it a real kiss, she pulled away.

Smoothing her hand along her cascade of dark curls, she turned and started up the hall again. “We should get back to Finley.”

AT SIX O’CLOCK that night Rory and Finley stepped into a very comfortable hotel room. A double bed sat in the middle of the room, and, as he’d requested when he made his reservation, a cot for Finley sat beside the bed. As he tossed their suitcases into the closet and slid his briefcase onto the desk, the feelings from the kiss he’d shared with Shannon that afternoon still vibrated through him. Unfortunately, all those wonderful sensations were mitigated by the awkwardness afterward. Worse, he couldn’t stop thinking about Shannon herself. Her future. What would she do without the store?

He might not be taking away her “dream” but he was taking away her job. And maybe her home. With only one department store in her small city, there was no other store in town for her to manage. She’d definitely have to move away.

They’d been so busy all afternoon that she’d easily avoided talking abut her life and that kiss. But he had to talk to her again. He couldn’t sit here in a hotel all night and wonder. Plus, he’d finally figured out she probably didn’t want to talk about her decisions in the hallway of an office where she could be overheard.

Finley shrugged out of her jacket, but he pushed it up her arms again.

“Hey!”

He stooped down in front of her. “I have a favor to ask.”

She blinked.

“You know how Shannon took us in this weekend?”

She nodded.

“Well, she did us a favor.”

She tilted her head in question. “Uh-huh.”

“So now we have to return the favor.”

“We do?”

“Yes.” He pulled in a breath. It wasn’t a fabulous plan, but it was the only plan he could come up with, so he was running with it. “Shannon was supposed to decorate her house for Christmas over the weekend.”