Heather Graham - A Season of Miracles

“We like to get our tax breaks in before New Year’s,” Griff muttered.

“If we didn’t make a fortune, we wouldn’t be able to give away big bucks,” Theo snapped. “Get on with it, both of you.”

He walked out of the room.

Griff grinned at Eileen. “Get on with it, huh?”

“Get out of here, Griff.”

He left, and Eileen sat down, drumming her beautifully manicured nails on her desk. How dare they accuse her of jealousy? She loved Jillian, who was the closest thing to a sister she had. She made a face and mimicked Theo’s tone. “Get on with it. I’m not a servant, Theo. Get on with it?”

She was silent for a minute, then she said softly, “Oh, I’ll be getting on with it, all right.”

She picked up a cookie with pumpkin-orange icing and little black chocolate-drop eyes. She took a bite—a savage bite—glad she made the cute little cookie snap.

Then she set the cookie down, stared at the tea service.

“Oh, yeah. I’ll get on with it, all right.”

Jillian swept past Daniel’s secretary with a quick smile and knocked on his door.

“Yes?” he said sharply from behind the wood.

“It’s Jillian.”

“Get in here.”

She froze for a moment, disturbed by his tone. Then she gritted her teeth and walked in, closing the door behind her. He was behind his desk, writing, and he didn’t look up. She stood before his desk, feeling like an errant school child. Then she grew angry and impatient.

“Daniel, you asked to see me,” she reminded him.

He looked up at last, staring at her as he recapped his pen. “Yes, quite some time ago,” he told her.

Like his brothers, Daniel was an attractive man. He liked clothing and appearances, and dressed well. His eyes were a deep brown, a true deep brown that could appear black. His gaze was always fathomless. Many times, when she’d been young, Daniel had been her protector. Ten years her senior, he had often taken her to and from school. In those days, he had been like a big wolf between her and any danger—be it real or imagined. She had loved him deeply; he had been her favorite relative.

But that had been a long time ago.

In the past several years, with her grandfather handing out more and more responsibility, things had changed.

Daniel had held the reins of power for a long time.

The fact that she was a direct descendant seemed to be raising a barrier between them—though he didn’t seem to show the same reserve to Eileen. Maybe it was all in Jillian’s mind. And maybe she had been so involved with the details of her work—and the death of her husband—that she had built her own walls between them.

“Sorry,” she said briefly. She decided not to mention the fact that Griff had forgotten to tell her that she was supposed to come here. “Really.”

“I thought you were trying to get out of here today?”

“I am. But I gave Connie the day off—” She broke off at his frown. “Daniel, she never misses work. She had some things to finish for the kids.”

“And the two of you are off together this afternoon. I’m not so sure it’s a good thing to have your best friend as your assistant,” he told her.

“Daniel, we don’t miss a beat as far as work is concerned. You know that. Joe works for you, and he’s a great employee.”

“Sit down,” he told her, indicating one of the chairs in front of his desk.

She sighed and did so. He heard her sigh, and looked at her sharply. “Daniel, no one puts more time into this company than I do,” she reminded him.

“Oh, I agree,” he murmured. “It’s as if you’re married to it.”

There was a note of bitterness in his tone. Did he think she was trying to make herself the indispensable one?

“Daniel—”

“Never mind,” he said curtly. He thrust his copy of her design for the new cross toward her. “What is this?”

She inhaled, staring at him. “A cross.”

“Yes. It’s supposed to be a contemporary design, Jillian. Sharp, hot, contemporary. A look to the future.”

“Yes,” she said, and faltered. “I know.”

“So?”

“I don’t know what happened. But—”

“It’s a great design. Beautiful. But not contemporary.”

He was right. Definitely right. They’d all been in the meeting, and it had been Douglas Llewellyn himself who had stressed the need to look to the new millennium.

She seldom failed, but she had failed this time. Her voice wavered as she told him, “Well, we can use this in the general line, and I’ll just start over.”

“No.”

“No?”

“We don’t have time, and this…it’s not what we planned, but we can go in another direction. You know. Something like, ‘As we enter the first decade of a new millennium, we welcome the new—and cherish the beauty of our past.’ I’m not sure if that’s quite right, but something like it. I haven’t talked with the old boy yet, but I’m sure he’ll go with it.” He was quiet for a minute. “Especially since it’s you who designed the cross.”

“Daniel—”

“I just wanted to let you know that we would go with it,” he said, interrupting her. “I’m sure you were aware yourself that it doesn’t fit the original concept.”

“Of course.”

He lifted his hands in dismissal. She met his eyes, feeling that she needed to apologize for something. She hadn’t done anything, she reminded herself. The design was different from what they had planned, but…

It was also very good.

“Daniel—” She broke off.

His secretary had tapped on the door and now hesitantly stuck her head in. She was a capable young woman, but to Jillian, Gracie Janner had always given the impression of being a doe caught in the headlights of an eighteen-wheeler. She had frizzy dirty-blond hair that seemed like a puffy halo around her head, and huge hazel eyes. Jillian was as nice and soft-spoken as she could be to the woman, but Gracie always seemed to be on edge. Nervous.

Afraid.

“Cookies and tea, Mr. Llewellyn,” Gracie said. “Jillian, I believe your tray has been sent to your office, but I can run down and get it—oh, my God, I called you Jillian. I should have called you Miss Llewellyn. Or are you still going by your married name? Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Jillian is just fine, Gracie. I’ve told you, please, my first name is just fine.”

“Cookies and tea?” Daniel said impatiently. “You brought me cookies and tea?”

“From the Great Pumpkin above,” Gracie said, trying to joke. She was as slim as a saluki, and appeared frazzled. Joking wasn’t her forte. Maybe she was perfect for Daniel. He didn’t seem to know how to joke anymore, either.

“Thanks, Gracie, but we’re finished here. I’ll just run back to my own office,” Jillian said. “Happy Halloween to you both,” she murmured as she got up and moved toward the door.

“Um, happy Halloween,” Daniel said. Then, to her surprise, he called her back.

She paused in his doorway.

His voice was slightly gruff when he spoke again. “Go out and have a great night. And remember, it’s only Halloween. You and Connie leave some Christmas stuff out there for the rest of humanity, hmm?”

“Will do,” she promised. Her voice was light. But tight, as well.

She was sorry about whatever it was that lay so strongly wedged between the two of them, but for the moment, there was nothing she could do about it.

She had been dismissed.

She hurried back into her own office.

Her tray of cookies and tea had been left on her desk. With a few things to clear up, she poured herself tea. She usually liked milk in her tea, but it had gotten cold, so she just shrugged and sipped it black as she started clearing her desk. She picked up one of the cookies, then put it back down, drawn again to her design for this year’s Christmas cross.