Page 11 of Scrooge

“Ahhh, you're funny.” I laugh awkwardly, grabbing my earlobe and pulling a bit as my cheeks heat at how close we are standing. He stares down at me, confused.

“What? Never heard a woman laugh before?” I tease, but he remains serious.

“Not genuinely, not in a long time,” he mutters and releases the grip he had on me as his hands fall to his sides.

“Well, I believe that.” Taking in another deep breath, I reach out to grip on to the shelf next to me, steadying myself due to how intoxicatingly amazing his scent is. A very masculine, woodsy cologne. Handsome.Check. Smells good.Check. Personality… Err, not yet there.

“What?” His eyes thin but don’t waver from where they first settled on me.

“You are not exactly…” I stall as I wave my hand up and down him. “Approachable.” It’s the best word I can find that isn’t too insulting. He looks similar as he did the other night. Slacks, dress shirt, and jacket. Like he was working today, even though it is the weekend.

“You sound like Sheridan.”

I assume that is his wife or girlfriend and that thought makes me feel a little bereft.

“Sheridan sounds like a smart lady,” I say, taking a small step away from him, not wanting to be too close, my head suddenly swirling with a mixture of emotions.

“She thinks she is,” he huffs as he looks around. A couple of boys run up to us. I recognize them as they come here every Saturday to play.

“Pew, pew, pew! I got you!” the little boy says, shooting me with a laser tag gun, the sounds and lights making noise. I giggle before I clutch my chest and slump against the shelves, pretending to be injured, and he laughs and runs away.

“You allow them to play with your stock?” he asks, eyebrows raised high in surprise.

“Yeah. We have a display toy room, so they can try before they buy some of the items,” I tell him, smiling. We started it a few years back and kids love it. We then donate those toys to charity.

“Ridiculous.” He shakes his head, and my shoulders tense again.

“Why?” I ask, my hands finding my hips.

“Because you are wasting money. They could break the toys, and then what? Your shrinkage must be insane.” The way he speaks, he doesn’t think I know what I am doing. Sure, he is one of the city's best businessmen, but he has no right to come in here and tell me how I should or shouldn’t be running my business. I am not sure why he even cares; he is about to push us out of here anyway.

“You must be bleeding money,” he says, his eyes back on me like he is waiting for a lie.

“No, actually, we are not. Besides, not everything is about money.”

I already know that he doesn’t understand that concept. He turns to face me fully, his mouth opening, about to tell me something. I steel myself for it, but before he gets a chance, a little girl walks up to us, offering me a fake cup of coffee and interrupting our conversation. With two pigtails and a smile full of gaps in her teeth, it is hard to ignore her, so I take a sip and pass the teacup back, ignoring him instead.

“That was delicious,” I say to her with a smile, and I see him stiffen before she giggles and runs away.

“They don't bite, you know,” I tell him, because he hasn’t moved a muscle, and I have no idea what he even wants or why he’s still here if he’s so uncomfortable.

“Who?”

“The kids. Every time one of them comes past, you almost shudder.”

“I’m not used to kids,” he says, taking a deep breath.

“You don’t have any kids?” I ask, but before he even responds, I know the answer from the deadpan look he gives me.

“No.”

“No nieces or nephews?” I question, his standoffish demeanor now making a little more sense. I bet this guy has no mess in his life. All straight lines and clean and shiny surfaces.

“No,” is all he says again.

“Hmmm. Probably explains a lot,” I tease, looking up at him with a smirk.

His eyebrows pucker, looking either annoyed or curious, I’m not sure. “Your meaning?”

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