Читать книгу Christmas Trio B - Debbie Macomber - Страница 43

May you live all the days of your life. —Mrs. Miracle

Emily Merkle smiled to herself. This latest assignment was going well. She enjoyed the ones that took place during the Christmas season most of all. She hadn’t expected the romance between Jake and Holly to develop quite this quickly, so that was a bonus. Those two were very good together—and good for each other.

She attached her name badge to her sweater and hung her purse in the employee locker, then headed up to the toy department. She’d grown fond of Jake Finley. He was a kindhearted young man, a bit reserved, to be sure, but willing to take a risk he believed in. The robots were one example of that, his pursuit of Holly another.

Walking toward the elevator, she saw J. R. Finley, who’d just come into the hallway. He stopped, and his eyes automatically went to her badge.

“Mrs. Miracle,” he said thoughtfully. He seemed to be mulling over where he’d heard it before.

“Mr. Finley,” she said in the same thoughtful tone.

“To the best of my recollection, we don’t have an employee here at Finley’s named Miracle.”

Emily was about to identify herself, but before she could, J. R. continued.

“I pride myself on knowing the name of every employee at the Thirty-fourth Street Finley’s. Including seasonal staff.” He narrowed his eyes. “Just a minute. I remember my son mentioning you earlier.”

“The name is Merkle,” Emily told him. “Emily Merkle.”

Finley shook his head. “Can’t say I’m familiar with that name, either.”

“If you check with HR, I’m sure—”

“You’re working with my son in the toy department, aren’t you?” he said abruptly.

Emily frowned. “Are you always this rude, or are you making an exception in my case?”

He blinked twice.

He was used to everyone kowtowing to him. Well, she wouldn’t do it.

“I beg your pardon?”

Emily met his look boldly. “I was saying something, young man.”

J. R.’s head reared back and he released a howl of laughter. “Young man? My dear woman, it’s been a long time since anyone referred to me as young.”

Compared to her, he was practically in diapers. “That’s beside the point.”

He seemed confused.

“As I was saying,” Emily continued politely, “if you care to check with HR, you’ll find that I was hired last week as seasonal help.”

“Only last week?” J. R. smiled at her. “That explains it, then.”

“It does, indeed.” She started down the hallway and was surprised when J. R. kept pace with her.

“You are working with my son, correct?”

“Yes. The toy department is extremely busy this time of year, as you well know.” She glanced pointedly at her watch, wanting him to realize she should be on the floor that very moment.

“My son made a huge error in judgment by ordering five hundred of those expensive robots.”

She was puzzled by his willingness to discuss business—and family—matters with a short-term employee. But she couldn’t let his comment go unchallenged. “You think so, do you?” she asked mildly.

He gave her a startled look, as if no one had dared question his opinion before. “I know so,” he insisted.

Emily was curious as to why he felt Jake was wrong and he was right. “Please tell me why you’re so convinced your son’s about to fail.” “Good grief, woman—”

“Call me Mrs. Miracle.”

“Fine, Mrs. Miracle. Do you realize exactly how many of these … Intellytromps he needs to sell by Christmas? That’s less than two weeks from now. It’ll never happen.”

“They’re Intellytrows.”

“Tromps, trons, whatever. They won’t sell. Mark my words. It would take a miracle.” He grinned broadly, obviously thinking himself very clever.

“You called?” she said, and laughed.

J. R. apparently didn’t like the fact that she’d responded to his joke with one of her own. Instead of laughing, he scowled.

“Never mind,” she said with a sigh. “I just wish you had more faith in your son.”

He quickly took offense. “My son is my concern.”

“He is your concern,” she agreed. “And your future. So, it’s time you trusted his judgment.”

She’d really ruffled his feathers now. He grew red in the face and puffed up like an angry rooster, his chest expanding. “Now listen here. I won’t have an employee talking to me as if I’m some messenger boy.”

Emily stood her ground. “Someone needs to tell you the truth and it might as well be me.”

“Is that so?”

He sounded like a third-grader exchanging insults on the playground.

“You need to give your son a bit of leeway to make his own mistakes instead of second-guessing all his decisions.”

He opened and closed his mouth as if he couldn’t speak fast enough to say what was on his mind. He thrust out one hand. “Your badge.”

So he intended to fire her. “You don’t want to do that,” she told him calmly.

“I will not have an insubordinate employee working in my store!”

“I’m temporary help,” she reminded him. “I’ll be gone soon enough.”

“I expect you gone today.”

“Sorry, I’m afraid that would be impossible. You’ll need to reconsider.”

Once again he couldn’t seem to speak. “Are … are you refusing to leave the premises?” he finally managed to sputter.

“Jacob Robert, settle down. You’ve always had a problem with your temper, haven’t you? Now, take a deep breath and listen to me. You do not want to fire me this close to Christmas.”

“Are you threatening me?” he growled. “And how do you know my middle name?”

“Not in the least,” she said, answering his first question and ignoring his second.

“I’m calling Security and having you escorted from the building. Your check will be mailed to you.”

“Security?” The image of two beefy security guards lifting her by the arms and marching her outside was so comical it made Emily laugh.

That seemed to infuriate him even more. “Do you find this humorous?”

“Frankly, yes.” She wouldn’t lie; the man was insufferable. Oh, heavens, she did have her work cut out for her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, your son needs my help.”

His jaw sagged as she scurried past him and walked quickly to the elevator.

As she suspected, the toy department was in chaos. Poor Jake was run ragged—thanks, in part, to his father, who’d taken too much pleasure in making her late for her shift. That man was about to meet his match. Emily Merkle was not going to let one overstuffed, pigheaded man stand in the way of her mission.

She’d been on the floor for thirty minutes or so when J. R. unexpectedly showed up. When he saw how busy the department was, he did a double take.

“Don’t stand there gawking,” Emily said as she marched past him, leading a customer to the cash register. Brenda and Karen, also on duty, were bustling around, answering questions, ringing up sales, demonstrating toys.

He stared at her blankly.

“Help,” she told him. “We could use an extra pair of hands, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Ah …” He froze, as if he didn’t know where to start.

“That couple over there,” Emily said, pointing in the direction of the board games. “They have a three-year-old and a six-year-old and they’re looking for suggestions. Give them a few.” “Ah …”

“Don’t just stand there with your mouth hanging open,” she ordered. “Get to work!”

To his credit, J. R. rolled up his sleeves and dug in. J. R. Finley might know the name of every employee in his store—with minor exceptions, of course—but he was in way over his head when it came to recommending board games. To her credit, Emily kept her mouth shut.

At four o’clock there was a slight lull. “Dad,” Jake greeted his father. “What brings you down here?”

J. R. squinted at Emily but didn’t answer.

“Whatever it was, I’m grateful.” He turned to Emily. “How many Intellytrons did we sell this afternoon?”

“Sixteen.”

“Fabulous!” Jake couldn’t conceal his excitement.

His father, however, looked as though he needed to sit down, put up his feet and have a cup of hot tea. In Emily’s view, it would do the man good to work the floor once in a while. He might actually learn something that way.

“I came to talk to you about this woman.” J. R. stabbed a menacing finger at Emily.

“Ah, you mean Mrs. Miracle,” Jake said fondly. “She’s a wonder, isn’t she?”

“She’s a nuisance,” J. R. snapped. “I want her fired.”

Jake laughed, which was clearly the opposite reaction of what his father expected.

“This is not a joke.”

“Yes, it is,” Jake insisted. “Didn’t you see what a madhouse this place was? It’s like that every day now. I can’t afford to lose Mrs. Miracle.”

Emily sauntered over to J. R.’s side and whispered saucily, “Told you so.”

He shook his finger. “I don’t care if I have to work this department on my own,” he yelled, “I will not tolerate insubordination.”

“Excuse me, Dad, I’ve got another customer.”

“I do, too,” Emily said. “But you can keep standing there for a while. You make a nice fixture.”

A kid of about five stepped in front of J.R. and stared up at him. “Is that a trick, mister?”

J.R. lowered his arms. “What, son?”

The boy was completely enthralled. “The way you get your cheeks to puff out like that.”

Difficult though it was, Emily managed not to laugh. The boy was quite observant. J.R. had the puffing of cheeks down to an art form.

Jake finished with his customer and hurried back to his father. “Dad, I am not firing Mrs. Miracle.”

“No, you’re not. I am,” J.R. said. “It will give me great pleasure to make sure she never works in this store again.”

“What did she do that was so terrible?” Jake demanded.

“She insulted me and meddled in my personal affairs,” his father burst out.

“How?” Jake asked, calm and collected. He was the perfect contrast to his father, who waved both arms wildly and spoke loudly enough to attract attention from every corner of the third floor.

When J.R. didn’t answer, Jake shrugged and said, “Sorry, Dad, I need her.”

Emily smiled ever so sweetly.

“She’s out of here,” J.R. roared, making a chopping motion with his arm. She thought he resembled an umpire signaling a strikeout.

Jake shook his head. “She’s our best sales associate by a mile, so if she goes, we might as well close down the entire department. You wouldn’t want that, would you, Dad?”

J.R. hesitated.

“And if we close the department, you won’t have a chance to prove how wrong I was by ordering five hundred Intellytrons,” he said, as if that should be sufficient inducement to keep her on staff.

Emily suspected J.R. wanted Jake to fall flat on his face over this robot. He’d pay a high price for being right—and, as a matter of fact, he was dead wrong. She’d seen for herself how popular the toy was. She’d hoped it would be and had done her best to sell it. However, after the past twenty-four hours, she didn’t need to try very hard; the toy sold itself. Apparently, its sudden popularity had begun like so many trends, on the West Coast. Now, the moment someone heard that Finley’s still had robots in stock, they dashed over. Then they couldn’t whip out their credit cards fast enough.

“I’d better stay,” Emily murmured to Jake. “As much as I’d like to walk away right now, I wouldn’t give your father the satisfaction.”

J.R. stomped his foot.

“Are you having a temper tantrum?” she asked sweetly.

Jake only laughed. “Dad, I think it might be best if you went back to your office now. Or you could go home.”

“This is my store and I’ll stay anywhere I darn well please.”

Jake leaned closer to his father and whispered, “You’re scaring off my customers.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“We want customers, don’t we, Dad? Isn’t that the whole idea?”

“Don’t get smart with me,” J.R. muttered.

“Yes, Dad.” Jake winked at Emily, who winked back.

J.R. must have caught sight of what they were doing. “What’s that about?”

“What?” Emily asked, again the picture of politeness.

“What?” Jake echoed.

Seeing that he’d forfeited even the pretense of control, J.R. sighed. “Forget it.”

“I can stay on, then?” Emily asked the store owner.

“Why ask me? I seem to have lost complete control of this company to a man I no longer recognize—my son.” With that he marched toward the elevator that would deliver him to his private office on the fourteenth floor.