And here's the first installment in this continuing story, Third Times the Charm:
Snow whispered from the blank chalkboard sky to land on her red-and-white
striped tights, coating her knees and the curled tips of her green elf boots in
flakes of dusty white. She sighed and plucked at her stockings. The little
jingle bells tacked to her toes tinkled a cheery song as she tapped the sides
of her feet together.
Maybe she should have just listened to her mother and kept her big
mouth shut. Lord knew she’d had dates with a long string of men that had been
nowhere near as comfortable as the platonic, stuck-in-limbo relationship she’d
shared with Daniel. If nothing else, biting her tongue would at least given her
a shot at a date for New Year’s Eve.
So what if Daniel had gotten jealous over the kiss she’d exchanged
with Walter from the mailroom during the employee Christmas party? Wasn’t a reaction
from him what she’d been hoping for in the first place? Hadn’t her plan been to
get Daniel’s attention and motivate him to make a decision about where they
were headed?
Too bad life never worked out the way it did in the movies, and
her mistake had rebounded like a swift kick in the pants. With his broad shoulders
and the way his dark mop of wavy hair always seemed to fall at just the right
angle across his blueberry eyes, Daniel’s arrival at Brigg’s Department store
had turned the heads of every female associate in their employ. And when the
first rumors had ground through the mill Brigg’s newest inventory manager had
the hots for her, Charlotte had to admit, she’d been more than a little bit thrilled.
Unfortunately, that’s where things between her and Daniel had both
started and ended. She picked a few stray cat hairs off her coat and tossed
them aside. Sure, she’d been happily surprised the first time they’d run into
each other at the movie theatre. Even more so when the following two months had
lead them to a standing date every Friday to see the latest blockbuster. But
since when did the sitting in a darkened theatre for two hours without
exchanging a word of conversation constitute a relationship? For God’s sake,
they hadn’t even held hands, much less kissed.
Apparently, none of those things mattered to Daniel, even though
she’d yet to receive an explanation for his actions. The minute he’d spied her
and Walter swapping some holiday cheer beneath the mistletoe, he’d cornered
their co-worker and stated she was officially “off limits” before storming out
of the employee lounge.
Shock had been her initial reaction and, though she was loath to
admit it, maybe a smidgen of “serves him right” had kept her from chasing after
him. Add a few hot toddies on an empty stomach and, half an hour later, anger
had kicked her surprise to the curb. Not that Daniel’s claim would have
necessarily ticked her off if his
statement had been anywhere near true. She clenched her jaw, knees bouncing, pony
tail whispering along the back of her shoulders as she shook her head. Yet, for
him to insinuate they shared anything past friendship without even discussing
it with her had crossed a line…and put her in a terrible spot where she’d been
left no option but to set the record straight.
Marching directly back to the loading dock, she’d stormed up to
where he’d been tinkering with a faux fireplace and promptly stomped out
whatever sparks had been smoldering between them. Until she said otherwise, they
were friends and nothing more. Acquaintances who worked at Brigg’s Department store,
shared a love of action flicks and the occasional box of Raisinets. Whoever she
dated and when was her business, not
his, and if he’d gotten off his butt and made a move while he’d had the chance
maybe he wouldn’t have been threatened by someone as harmless as Walter Stout
from the mailroom. God!
The minute the words had left her mouth, hurt and confusion had
slammed into Daniel’s beautiful blue eyes. He’d turned and disappeared between
a row of metal shelves stacked with inventory in the loading dock. Ever since
then, during the two-week countdown to Christmas Eve, a wall of tension had
been building between them, brick by solid, square brick.
Yep, ‘naughty’ definitely defined her December. She’d be lucky to
find a lump of coal in her stocking this year.
“Whoo hoo!” A fur-festooned woman staggered toward the stop,
flapping a gloved hand in the air. Her orthopedic shoes slid precariously over
the ice-slicked sidewalk, the gift-wrapped bundles in her arms adding to the
topsy-turvy pitch of her gait. “Give an old woman a hand, will you, dearie?”
Charlotte rolled her eyes, but left the bench to clasp the matron’s
forearms and lead her safely toward the seat. Boxes tumbled and smacked the wet
concrete, and she quickly rescued them before the snow could damage the paper or
bows.
“That’s a love, dearie. I’m sorry I’m late. Christmas is always my
busiest time of year.” The woman wiggled her fingers and sat, leaving Charlotte
to rescue the last two gifts before they had the misfortune to slip into the
street.
Fabulous. Why did she always attract the wackos? Late for what,
exactly? The cocktails and hors d’oeuvres Charlotte was about to bust out of
her purse? Not that the ridiculous elf costume she’d been ordered to wear in
place of her white smock helped the case for reality. No doubt the woman
thought Charlotte was one of Santa’s helpers instead of a single girl working a
double to earn a little extra cash for some Christmas shopping of her own.
She stacked the sparkly red-and-green gifts beside the woman on
the bench, carefully steadying them with her hands. Most of them were so light,
they seemed to contain nothing but air. Then again, why would anyone wrap a
bunch of empty boxes and decide to go gallivanting through downtown Chicago on
Christmas Eve? Especially at five o’clock, the stores crowded with last-minute
shoppers in their mad rush to finish their lists.
“Lovely weather we’re having, don’t you think?” The woman adjusted
the holiday charms on her bracelet before folding her hands on her lap. Flakes
wafted down to catch in her false eyelashes, melting to droplets on her bright
red lipstick and the plastic glittery poinsettia pinned to her lapel. “I’ve
decided to give you three.”
Charlotte darted a frown around the glass enclosure of the bus
stop. Again, with the obscure references. Three what? Presents? Yep, the poor old
goose definitely had a screw loose. Maybe she believed she was some sort of do-good
Christmas fairy.
“Oh, that’s okay. I’m sure you have those gifts tagged for someone
else.” A slight tip forward, and Charlotte checked the oncoming traffic down
the street. Relief warmed her insides as she read the lighted marquee on the
approaching bus. She pressed her ear muffs tighter to her head and smoothed
back a few loose strands from her ponytail, crammed her hands between her
thighs and shivered. Even though she’d only been waiting a few minutes, her
feet were like two blocks of ice.
“Well, here’s my ride.” She stood and faced the lady as the bus
whined to a halt at the corner, its diesel exhaust quickly whisked away by the
bitter breeze streaming in off the lake. “Merry Christmas.”
The mysterious twinkle in the woman’s gray eyes put the white
lights strung on the trees along the boulevard to shame. “Oh, I’ll be waiting
here to find out.”
Alarm jabbed the pit of Charlotte’s stomach and she stutter
stepped forward, the bells ringing like reindeer games from her feet. Didn’t
the old woman have anywhere to go? God, she couldn’t sit out in this weather. She’d
be a brown, furry popsicle by morning. “Wait, are you sure you’re all right? Do
you want me to call someone to pick you up?”
A clever chuckle bounced through her generous bosom. “No need to
butter me up, dearie. I already told you, I’m only giving you three.” She
jerked her chin toward the bus and her snow globe earrings swung back and forth
above her collar. “Go along now. You’ve got work to do.”
“Okay…” The bus horn beeped the driver’s impatience and Charlotte
backed toward the open door, tugging her transit pass from the slash pocket of
her woolen pea coat. “If you’re sure you don’t need some help.”
“Help,
indeed.” The woman shook her head. “Just try not to dally. I’ve several stops
before midnight.”
Oh,
good. Hopefully one of them was the nearest psychiatric ward to have her meds
checked. Charlotte smiled with a nod, climbed aboard the bus and bumped down
the packed aisle toward the back door. A small wave through the window, and she
grabbed the hand rail as the bus lurched and chugged down the street.
* * *
“Charlotte,
a customer is asking for three of those Christmas tree candy dishes. Can you check
with Daniel and see if we’ve got any more in stock?”
Oh, God no.
Charlotte
jerked her head up from where she’d knelt beside an aisle kiosk to re-fold the
holiday place mats, only to meet the wide-eyed blink of the housewares floor
manager. Fiona crossed her arms, one of her finely-plucked eyebrows hiking
toward her bouffant hairline. “Is there a problem?”
“No,
no problem.” Charlotte offered a weak smile, while inside her stomach twisted
in knots. She pushed to her feet and nodded. “Be right back.” …from a living nightmare. From facing Daniel
for the first time in weeks.
The
door to the loading dock was the one barrier she’d not breached since the night
of the Christmas party. In fact, going anywhere near it made her throat close
and the edges of her vision flicker like she was about to faint. Avoiding
Daniel had become an exercise she practiced with increasing dexterity, even
lingering near the employee lockers long after her shift ended so she wouldn’t
accidently run into him clocking out.
Her
hand trembled as she pushed against the swinging door, but she filled her lungs
and pressed on. There was no need to bring up a moment she was fairly certain
they both regretted. Regardless of the way she missed his smile, the excitement
in her belly each time she left her apartment for the theatre or her
anticipation over finding him waiting outside, what was done, was done. She
would act professional, get the candy dishes and vamoose…and then seriously consider
finding a new job as soon as the holiday madness was over.
The
mellow illumination of the emergency overhead lights seemed strange in
comparison to the stark halogens that usually washed row after row of shelves
in the loading dock to a brightness which rivaled the sun. Charlotte frowned at
the closed bay door, glanced left and right at the abandoned forklifts and
darkened window of Daniel’s office. An eerie silence tickled the little hairs
on the back of her neck. Where was everyone? In the past, these last few hours
before the store closed on Christmas Eve were usually as frantic as the North
Pole.
A
metallic clank was accompanied by a soft curse, and she followed the noise
around the last grouping of metal shelves to the product assembly area.
Her
feet froze to the wooden floor…an exact match to the motionless air in her
lungs.
Daniel
knelt before a faux fireplace, a tool belt buckled around the navy Dockers
stretched along his thighs, dark hair hanging in his eyes as he cranked a
wrench near the grate. Not that his doing so was by any means bizarre. She’d
found him putting all sorts of items together in the loading dock several
times.
The
angle of his shoulders is what put her off, the slouch of his open collar and
the way he’d rolled the cuffs of his soft blue dress shirt to just above his
elbows. Usually, Daniel was a worn jeans and t-shirt kind of guy. His job was
too physical for much else.
There’d
been only one other time she’d seen him wearing something so nice, kneeling
before a fireplace like he was now. The night of the Christmas party, when she
stormed out to the loading dock and ranted at him like a drunken lunatic.
She
darted a glance around the huge, dimly lit space. In fact, everything was like the night of the Christmas party. Her brows
shot heavenward and she slapped a hand to her chest. Her flirty red cocktail
dress, her peep-toe heels… Even the life-sized Santa that had once waved a
greeting to customers and spouted a mechanical “ho, ho, ho” was back in the
corner, before she’d told Daniel how much it creeped her out and he’d stashed
it somewhere out of sight.
Smoothing
her hand down the back of her head, she brought the curled ends of her auburn
hair around her cheek. What had happened to her pony tail?
“Hold
up a second.” She slashed her hand across the space in front of her and
tentatively advanced, her entire body buzzing like she’d been jolted by an
exposed wire. “What’s going on?”
“I
could just as easily ask you the same thing.” Daniel dropped the wrench and
shoved his hand up inside the firebox. He frowned and placed a palm on the fake
slate exterior beside the grizzled five o’clock shadow darkening his jaw. “’Cause
I sure hell hope you’re not expecting me to ask if Walter’s a good kisser.”
What? She slumped, her
jaw dropping the same distance as her shoulders. “Just wait a second.” She
flapped her hands to cool off her warm cheeks, clamped them on top of her head and
then flapped them again like she was preparing to take flight. This couldn’t be
happening. Daniel acted as if he’d just left the party. Like they were back at
the moment when she’d stormed onto the loading dock and read him the riot act.
“I
don’t understand what’s happening. How’d I get here?” She pointed at the ground,
stumbling forward a few more steps. “Have I already yelled at you? And, if so,
what did I say?”
He
sat back from the fireplace, his shirt sleeve pulling taut across one tightly
toned bicep as he raked his heavy hair away from his brow, and scowled at her
like she’d lost her damn mind. And maybe she had. “Exactly how many hot toddies
did you drink? We were at the Christmas party, remember? Not thirty minutes
ago? We planned to meet there and I walked in to find you kissing Walter…remember?”
Right!
Except that didn’t explain the missing two weeks, and it nowhere near explained
where her elf costume had gone off to or all the hours she’d lain awake in bed
wishing she could re-do this very moment. What…had all those sleepless nights
been a dream? Or maybe the more obvious choice—exhaustion had finally caught up
with her, she’d fallen asleep on the bus and this was the dream.
“Ah,
okay.” She nodded. “I get it. I just need to wake up and this will all go away.”
Too
bad, because she really would’ve appreciated this second chance. She would’ve more
carefully considered her words before speaking. Given Daniel a chance to
justify his actions.
Sadness
shimmered through his eyes, at complete odds with the soft laugh that fell from
his kissable lips. “Seems to me, I was the one who needed to wake up.”
Ouch. Charlotte bit
her tongue against laying into him like she had in reality. Apparently, her
subconscious was working overtime to deal with the remorse.
She
smacked a hand against her cheek and waited, but the loading dock stayed firmly
in focus. Dammit, why did that never work? A hard pinch of her arm and Daniel
stood, propping his hands on his hips. “Um, what are you doing?”
“I’m
trying to wake myself up.” She lunged forward, executed a few quick jumping
jacks and hopped around on one foot.
Nothing.
God, she must be nearly catatonic. Bracing her hands on her knees, she leaned
forward to catch her breath. Why couldn’t the bus just hit a nice, big pothole?
That usually jarred her awake.
“Normally,
I find your quirky sense of humor pretty funny.” He crossed his arms, and her
insides melted as the curled tips of his thick lashes drew together in a
squint. “But I gotta tell ya, these gymnastics of yours are a little freaky.
Why don’t you go back to the party? I’m sure Walter is wondering where you
are.”
Another
nice zinger. Geesh, she really had to get a handle on her guilt. Still, the
party did present an interesting idea. Maybe a change of scenery would do the
trick.
She
spun on her heel and headed for the exit, placed her hand on the door and
turned to face Daniel one last time. Fantasy or reality, she could not resist
the temptation to have the last word—another of her eccentricities no one
seemed to appreciate but him. “I don’t want Walter, you big dummy. If that
gorgeous head of yours contained one ounce of sense, you’d know exactly who it
is that I want.”
She
pushed through the doorway and cold air blasted against her cheeks. Tripping
forward, feet slipping and sliding, she pin-wheeled her arms and face planted
right against the glass shelter of the bus stop.
The
old woman turned on the seat, smiled and waved her inside.
What.
The. Hell! On stilted legs, Charlotte
pushed away from the glass, rounded the shelter and sat. A glance over her
shoulder and she blinked at the revolving door of her apartment building,
slowly grinding to a halt. She ran a hand down the back of her head and tugged
on her ponytail, tapped her feet together and the little bells on her toes
jingled a happy tune. There was no way she’d fallen asleep while waiting for
the bus. It was too cold outside to get comfortable.
“Well,
that didn’t go as pleasant as expected.”
Charlotte
slowly turned her head. Somehow, this strange woman had sent her back through
time. Holy hell, maybe she was a
Christmas fairy. “That was no dream, was it? I was really there with Daniel…in
the loading dock.”
“Don’t
be too hard on yourself.” The bracelet on her wrist twinkled like starlight as
the woman lifted her arm and plucked one of the little charms off the chain.
She held it over the pile of gifts and offered it to Charlotte, though, to her,
the stack of brightly wrapped gifts seemed to have shrunken somehow. Almost as
if it had been reduced by half. “Compared to some, you did fairly well. On a
scale of one to ten, I’ll give you a solid four for humor and originality.”
Yay! Go me for
being below average.
Charlotte opened her palm and the woman dropped the charm into her hand. She flipped
the delicate snowflake back and forth with her fingertip, winced as it flared before
a shimmering trail of dust floated skyward and the charm lost its luster. She closed
her fingers and made a tight fist. If she was reading the situation correctly, she
still had two more chances.
“You
may want to consider Daniel’s feelings in this moment. What is the first thing
you would’ve thought, walking into the Christmas party to find him kissing
another girl?”
Charlotte
grimaced. Her heart would have been crushed, regardless of his intentions or the vagueness of their relationship
status.
The
bus screeched to a stop at the corner and her bedazzled fairy nodded toward the
street. “Remember, there are two sides to every story. Perhaps it’s time you
ask Daniel for his.”
Her
mind whirring the same speed as the glistening traffic rushing down the
boulevard, Charlotte rose from the bench and climbed the steps like a robot,
bouncing from one padded shoulder to the next toward the back of the bus. The
old woman smiled and handed a wrapped box to a passerby as the gears lurched and
the bus trundled down the street.
Stay tuned for Part II, coming tomorrow...
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