Page 9 of Santa Baby Maybe
“Let’s hopeyournumbers add up and subtract accurately,” I said.
Then I took my seat at the table. Cheryl lowered the lights and Joy began to present her new line of high-end ornaments.
It galled me, but by the end of it I was utterly…impressed.
* * *
The elevator doorsslid open on the main floor and I stepped out. Of course I came through the building’s main entrance every day. From the lobby I could see the stations of artists, although I’d never really paid much attention to their work. My only sense of it was that the downstairs always smelled of fire and fresh paint. No, when I entered the building I kept my head down, my briefcase in hand, and I focused on getting to my office quickly so I could get to work.
I never looked at what as being created.
I also didn’t look to the back of the floor where there was a slightly elevated stage area that I knew Joy used as her perch to oversee her domain. I certainly didn’t take notice of what flowy outfit she was wearing that day or pay attention to how she’d arranged her hair. Up in a ponytail when it was hot during the summer, or now, as temperatures started to cool, down loose around her shoulders.
Don’t look. Never look. You don’t care what she’s laughing about.Because when I crossed through the space from the entrance to the elevator, the sound of her laughter was not uncommon.
There were times I wondered if she was laughing at me. But of course that was ridiculous. I’d never done anything to warrant someone making me the butt of a joke.
Today the place was busy. People were firing up the glass—blowing it, shaping it in the molds that were laid out. Joy had gotten approval for five new sophisticated and complicated molds. They were doing a retelling of the five golden rings from “The Twelve Days of Christmas.”
Five magical golden rings turned into art that they planned to sell for fifty dollars an ornament. Shaking my head, I still couldn’t believe it was going to work, but I also knew it had been the best idea so far.
I had wanted to sell the building. The company owned it, and the real-estate market right now was crazy for any property in LoDo. Kane Co. could make a killing if they relocated the office space to somewhere cheaper, but Wes had been reluctant to part with his last solid asset until other avenues had been explored.
Two weeks ago Joy had accused me of never leaving my office, and something about that had struck me. I’d been putting in twelve-hour days to figure out where else we could cut corners, save money, turn around cash flow, and yet she had come up with a whole new line of ornaments.
We weren’t in competition. I knew that. But instinctively I felt like I was losing, so on a whim, I had come down here to check out my opponent. I had no idea what I was looking for or what I would find, but at least she couldn’t accuse me of hiding in my office.
“Mr. Darling, are you lost?” I turned at the voice and saw Cheryl approaching me, holding a glass cylinder in her hand.
“No. I know where I am.”
“Okay. Sure. It’s not weird at all that you’re here. Are you looking for Joy? She stepped out to make a call, but she’ll be back in a second.”
“Yes. Thank you.” It made more sense that I would be looking for Joy to discuss something work related. As opposed to just stopping by to take a look at the operation.
I wandered back to the end of the room and stepped up onto the stage. That’s when I noticed all the people on the other side of the wall-to-wall windows to the street watching what was happening inside the building. There had to be twenty or so people peeking through the glass to watch the ornaments being made.
“If only I could sell tickets,” I muttered.
“Tickets to what?”
I startled as Joy stepped up into what amounted to her office.
Why did she have to look like that? Soft brown hair that draped over her shoulders. Hazel eyes that changed color depending on what she was wearing. It had become something of a game to me. Noting the color of her shirt and then thinking about how that would change the color of her eyes.
She was lovely. Not a traditional beauty, but there was a softness to her features that made looking at her easy. Comfortable. And she was so open. When I looked at her it was like she didn’t have a single secret she’d ever kept.
“Tickets to the show,” I answered, pointing at the crowd gathered outside the windows.
“It’s like they’re peeking into Santa’s workshop.” She smiled. “You know, it’s not a bad idea. We could do events. Let people see the process up close. Maybe even craft their own ornaments. We would have to get people to commit to maybe Saturday or Sunday morning hours, but that might bring in some money.”
“Not a bad idea. You’ll get the numbers for me. Overtime work like that could add up. We would have to make it profitable.”
“Got it, Chief. Is that why you came down to the floor?”
“No, I…” I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to say, when a black cat hopped up onto the desk in front of me and started growling at me like an angry dog. “Joy, get back.”
I put my arm out to keep her behind me. Obviously this feral animal had somehow gotten inside the building. Maybe from the shipping area, on the other side of the wall. And based on the nature of his growls, he sounded like he might bite. “Call animal control. Do we have a towel? I could trap it.”
