Page 57 of Scrooge

“I think he would be very proud of you, Alex. I am.” Her gentle smile warms me from deep within. It means a lot to hear her say that. Like she can see the deepest parts of me. The fact that she is proud of me makes me feel like a fucking king, and I realize that I never want to let this woman down. I swallow another sip of red, needing the time to center myself.

“What about you? What are the plans for Tucker Toys?” I ask. She is a smart woman; I’m sure she has some plans, and I want her to share her visions with me.

“Well, if the local billionaire would get off our case and leave us alone, we plan to have an amazing holiday season, and then my parents are retiring.”

I tilt my head and smile. She is teasing me, but her words have remorse settling in my stomach. It puts all my business dealings into perspective, seeing how Tucker Toys is now struggling due to me putting up their rent to market rates. I don’t often think of my actions in this way, but I want her to succeed, in everything she does.

“Retiring?” I ask, as both her parents seem pretty young, so I am surprised.

“My dad had a mini stroke a few months ago. I guess they decided they wanted a life to enjoy, rather than be tied down to the shop. They have managed it for a few decades now and need a break.”

Retirement or slowing down was never something my father spoke about. It wasn’t part of his DNA.

“So you and Jillian will keep it going?” I ask.

“We want to. Business is slowing, I can feel it. The toy market isn’t what it used to be; we can all see that with kids on their phones a lot more. But it still brings so many people joy. I just don’t know what the evolution is, you know? I mean, most businesses can pivot, moving into a different stream or alternative space. I’m not tied to toys, even though the store has been in our family for years. I know Dad might be disappointed if we did something different, but I also know that he would just want my sister and me to be happy and successful.” She looks unsure, but it’s clear she has given this some thought.

“Does it bring you joy?” I have a feeling she’s working in the store because that’s the expectation, not something she wants.

“Yes. But… it’s all I have ever known,” she says as she takes a sip of wine, and I watch her swallow, following the movement down her throat before I look back at her.

“Sometimes, doing something for so long just because our parents did it, doesn’t always resonate for our success,” I say, thinking about the words as I say them, feeling the truth of them myself as well.

“I know.” She sighs, pursing her lips. Running her hand up and down the stem of the wineglass, she looks up at me. I lean over and grab her hand, entwining her fingers with mine. Rubbing my thumb over her knuckles, it’s a silent move to tell her she isn’t alone. She smiles at me, her glow brightening my whole world even more.

“What about your paintings?” I ask her, because I see how she lights up when talking about her artwork and how she was at the gallery. It really excited her.

“That’s just a hobby…” She brushes me off, but she has talent, even I can see that.

“Maybe it shouldn’t be,” I suggest, and I see her mind ticking over. She takes another sip of wine, not answering me. As her mouth curves around the glass, I shake my head. These thoughts are doing nothing but making me think things I shouldn’t be.

“You need to stop looking at me like that,” she whispers as she lowers her glass, looking at me from under her lashes.

“Like what?” I ask her, my heart thumping harder.

“Like you want to eat me whole. It will give a girl ideas…” she says with a playful lift of her eyebrow, and I smirk.

“Oh, I have had the same ideas for days now, Sunflower,” I tell her honestly, and her eyes widen as my nostrils flare, trying to drag in the air I need.

“Your steak, sir,” the waiter interrupts, delivering our meal, and I sit up straighter, clearing my throat as Haylee grabs her napkin. A cute pink tint colors her cheeks that makes me smile like a damn fool.

“You don’t have much art in your apartment,” she says, getting the topic back to safter ground as we both dig into our amazing meals.

“I don’t really see the point,” I tell her. I live my life simply. Mainly at the office, and I work from home on the weekends. I don’t need all the color and decorations. No one would ever see them. Well, until now.

“It would add some feeling to the space, a little more life,” she adds.

“Maybe. I do have a few pieces in my office.”

“I know, but the rest is empty. I left a pumpkin before Thanksgiving, but…” she trails off, shrugging, like she might think I got rid of it or something.

“The glittery pumpkin that sparkled on my coffee table. It was a nice touch.” Smirking, I think about the pumpkin that now sits on my shelf in my home office, something I didn’t want to throw out, liking having a bit of her in my space. She obviously appreciates my words as she smiles.

“Well, it was Thanksgiving, and you didn’t have anything in the house. Just be grateful that I didn’t bring over the stuffed turkey I have at the shop. That would’ve really delighted you, I’m sure,” she teases, and I laugh. If she brought it over, I would let her put it wherever she wants.

As I take another bite of steak, I see her look over my shoulder, and she pales instantly.

“You alright?” I ask, my stomach clenching, feeling something is amiss as she places her cutlery down on the plate like she’s finished. But she hasn’t; she still has over half her steak left, and I know she was starving when we arrived. I frown, turning to follow her line of sight, seeing a well-dressed man sitting down at a table with some other men. It looks like a business meeting and like they all came up from Wall Street.

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