SUSAN MEIER - Bride Under the Mistletoe - The Magic of a Family Christmas

“Maybe. But you can’t explain away the fact that we haven’t gotten a raise since his mom retired. No raises usually means things aren’t going well. Now that the Barringtons are in Miami, they don’t care about us. They could close this factory—” she snapped her fingers “—like that.”

“No. Stop!” Wendy held up her hand. Patty was interpreting the facts all wrong, but Wendy couldn’t talk about what she knew from typing confidential financial statements. With everything going on in her life, she also didn’t have the quickness of mind to make up an alternative story. “I don’t have the brain power to think about this right now. Even if I would date him to spy for you guys, I can’t. My plate is full with Harry—”

Patty put her elbow on the table and her chin on her fist. “Really? There’s a good chance they’ll find his dad tomorrow and Harry won’t be an issue.”

Only Emma or Patty could be this brutally honest with her, and though right at this minute she wished they couldn’t, she also saw Patty’s point.

“I just don’t want to see you lose a good opportunity,” Patty said. “Guys like Cullen Barrington only come along once in a lifetime. If you’re not following up on your attraction because of Harry, you could be making a big mistake.”

She shook her head. “There’s no point to following up when we don’t want the same things.”

“How do you know you don’t want the same things?”

Wendy glanced over at Patty. Damn the woman was quick. But Wendy was quicker.

“Did you look at him? His clothes scream designer names. My clothes are from a discount department store. I don’t fit into his world. That is, if he’d even want to make room in his world.”

Emma sighed. “You’re a pessimist.”

Wendy took a bite of her sandwich, chewed and swallowed then said, “I’m a realist.” She glanced around to make sure no one else was paying attention then she added, “You guys know what happened with Greg. I let him make all the decisions because he was so sure of where he wanted to go and it cost me the opportunity to have a child.”

Emma frowned. Patty rolled her eyes. “So don’t let this one make all the decisions.”

Wendy toyed with her sandwich. “Not all men are like Greg, but Cul—Mr. Barrington is. Just from the way he works, I can tell he’s a man accustomed to giving orders and getting his own way.” She wouldn’t tell them about his investment-counseling business, about being able to arrange his life any way he wanted, that would prove they’d had a private conversation. As much as she loved Emma and Patty, the gossip would spread like wildfire and Cullen’s stay would be hell for both of them. “I want a man who wants a partner, not arm candy.”

“Arm candy.” Both Emma and Patty grinned.

Emma said, “How appropriate for a guy who owns a candy factory.”

“You guys are hopeless.” She pulled in a breath and changed the subject. “Things went very well with Harry this weekend.”

Emma grinned. “So how does it feel to be a mom?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m not letting myself feel too much. Just as you said, they could find Harry’s dad tomorrow.”

The buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the lunch break, and Wendy made her way back to her desk and resumed her typical Monday chores. Around two o’clock, Cullen stepped out of his office and handed her some notes he wanted typed. When he returned to his office, he left the door open.

Wendy immediately went to work on the notes. She typed them quickly, e-mailed them to his computer, printed them and slid the hard copy onto his desk.

Without looking up, Cullen said, “Thanks.”

Happy that they were behaving like a typical boss and assistant, she returned to her desk and went back to work.

On Tuesday everybody still gossiped about why the Cullen Barrington would stand in for the plant manager. Finishing up the Christmas rush might be the reason. But that only spurred more questions that rumbled through the workers on the plant floor. Why had Mr. McCoy taken a vacation during their busiest time of the year? Had he been fired? Was the plant about to close?

Wednesday at lunch, Patty and Emma speculated that Cullen had asked Mr. McCoy to take a vacation and was there as a spy of some sort. That made Wendy laugh. “I can understand you wanting to spy on him. But why would he spy on us? What could he possibly be looking for?”

That stopped Patty cold and made Emma frown in consternation.

At lunch on Thursday they decided he was looking for ways to make his father and himself more money from the factory, and that, Wendy had to concede, made at least a bit of sense.

It actually calmed the gossip, until Emma said, “And if he doesn’t, we’re history.” Then that rumor caught fire and spread throughout the factory.

On Friday the conversation mercifully turned to everybody’s plans for the weekend. Patty had a date. Emma was taking her kids for pictures on Santa’s lap. Wendy’s heart stuttered with joy at just the thought of getting Harry’s picture taken on Santa’s lap. Also, involving Harry with other kids, especially for a holiday reason, was a good idea.

“Can Harry and I meet you at the mall at about one o’clock?”

Patty rose from the lunch table. “Sounds great. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“You’ll love him.”

Wendy made her way back to the office amazed that within six short days she’d not only gotten the hang of thinking of Harry first, but also that the rumors of the plant closing seemed to have died down, if only for the weekend.

At about a quarter to three she heard a noise, looked up and saw Randy Zamias walking into her office.

She pulled in a breath. “Mr. Zamias.”

Tall and thin, wearing a neat-as-a-pin brown-tweed suit, Harry’s case worker took the remaining steps to her desk. “Ms. Winston.”

Because she didn’t have a seat in her office to offer him, she rose. “How can I help you?”

“I’m afraid I have some unfortunate news.”

“News?”

“Yes, we’ve located Harry’s father.”

Her heart stopped. She told herself that Harry would be better off with his biological father, but Harry didn’t remember his father. Fear coursed through her. “You have?”

Randy cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, he’s dead.”

This time the world spun. “That’s…” She swallowed, as mixed feelings danced around inside her. Even as her heart swelled at the prospect of getting Harry, it also broke for the little boy who now had no parents. “That’s sad for Harry.”

Randy pushed his glasses up his long, thin nose. He pulled in a breath. “He was killed in a fight in the prison yard three years ago.”

Right about when Harry said he’d last seen his dad. Wendy fell to her seat. “Oh, my God.”

Randy sighed heavily. “Betsy had been informed, but by that time she’d divorced him.” He shook his head. “There’s a lot Betsy didn’t tell us when we visited her.”

Wendy could only stare at him. The knowledge that Harry’s dad was dead was difficult, but she understood Betsy’s reasons for not being forthcoming with Mr. Zamias. She had been ill and protecting her child.

Cullen stepped out of his office. He looked from Randy to Wendy and back to Randy again. His eyes narrowed. “Can I help you?”

Wendy quickly said, “This is Mr. Zamias. He’s Harry’s case worker from social services.” She motioned toward Cullen. “And this is Cullen Barrington.”

Randy’s entire demeanor changed. He went from being a stiff and formal prude, to being awestruck in the blink of an eye. He stuck out his hand to shake Cullen’s. “Mr. Barrington! Such a pleasure to have you back in town.”