Page 68 of A Cozy Christmas Blizzard
“Yes, yes, I understand the snow’s a problem on your end as well,” he continued smoothly. “I doubt that I’ll make it in this afternoon. Perhaps we should arrange the meeting for first thing tomorrow morning. Nine o’clock?” Another pause. “Of course I realize it’s the day before Christmas.”
Rummaging in her purse, Shelly managed to dredge up a token for the cable car, a breath mint and a lost button.
Pressing her lips tightly together, she mused about how coldhearted Slade Garner was to insist on a meeting so close to Christmas. Instantly she felt guilty because her thoughts were so judgmental. Of course he would want to keep his appointment. He obviously hadn’t taken this flight for fun. Her second regret was that she realized she had intentionally eavesdropped on his conversation, looking for excuses to justify her dislike of him. Such behavior was hardly in keeping with the Christmas spirit.
Pasting on a pleasant smile, she stepped forward when he replaced the receiver, thinking to claim the working phone, but someone practically knocked her over and got there first.
“Excuse me,” she said politely as Slade turned in her direction. He refused to meet her gaze, and for a second she didn’t think he’d heard her.
“Yes?” He finally looked her way, his expression bored, frustrated.
“Have you got change, by any chance?”
He uninterestedly checked the contents of his pocket, then looked down at the few coins in his palm. “Sorry.” Dispassionately he tucked them back in his pocket and turned away.
She was ready to approach someone else when he turned back to her. His dark brows drew together in a frown, something about her apparently registering in his mind despite his preoccupied thoughts. “You were on the Seattle flight, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Here.” He handed her what change he had.
The corners of her mouth curved up in surprise. “Thanks.” He was already walking briskly away, and she was convinced he hadn’t even heard her. She didn’t know what difference it made that they’d shared the same plane, but without analyzing his generosity any further, she dropped the first coin in the slot, then shifted her weight from one foot to the other while the phone rang, hoping her father—one of the last holdouts against owning a cell—wasn’t already at the airport waiting for her. She was pleased when he answered.
“Dad, I’m so glad I caught you.”
“Merry Christmas, Shortcake.”
Her father had bestowed this affectionate title on her when she was thirteen and her friends had sprouted up around her. To her dismay she had remained at a deplorable five feet until she was seventeen. Then, within six months, she had grown five inches. Her height and other attributes of puberty had been hormonal afterthoughts.
“I’m in Portland.”
“I know. When I phoned the airline they told me you’d been forced to land there. How are you doing?”
“Fine.” She wasn’t about to reveal her fear of flying or howmuch she was dreading getting back on that plane. “I’m sorry about the delay.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“But I hate wasting precious time sitting here when I could be with you.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll have plenty of time together.”
“Have you decorated the tree yet?” Since her mother’s death three years before, she and her father had made a ritual of placing the homemade ornaments on the tree together.
“I haven’t even bought one. I thought we’d do that first thing in the morning.”
She closed her eyes, savoring the warm feeling of love and security that the sound of her father’s voice always gave her. “I’ve got a fantastic surprise for you.”
“What’s that?” he prompted.
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?”
Her father chuckled, and she could visualize him rubbing his finger over his upper lip the way he did when something amused him. They chatted for another minute, and then she realized she should check on the status of her flight.
“I’ve missed you, Dad.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“Take care.”
