Читать книгу Yours for Christmas - Сьюзен Мэллери - Страница 8

CHAPTER THREE

WITH TARYN OUT of town for a month, the responsibility of running the offices of Score fell to Kenny. He didn’t mind picking up the slack. While the day-to-day minutia wasn’t his favorite, he could handle it on a short-term basis. Sam’s department took care of the cash flow and payroll and the vacations were already scheduled so Kenny figured he was in for an easy time.

He looked over the master calendar for their clients. There weren’t any big presentations due in December and all the advertising had already been scheduled. The company would be closed from the Wednesday before Thanksgiving until the Sunday after, then for couple of weekdays before Christmas and New Year’s. Easy duty, he thought, clicking on the partners’ private calendar.

He saw Taryn was out for her honeymoon with Angel. She would miss Thanksgiving but be back before Christmas. Jack and Larissa were heading to Los Angeles for Thanksgiving, to be with Larissa’s family. He frowned as he realized Sam would also be out of town in late November. He and Dellina were going to Lake Tahoe with Dellina’s two sisters and their husbands. Which left Kenny on his own for the holiday.

He leaned back in his chair. His own family was mostly back east. His mom worked for the State Department and was in D.C. His sisters were in New York. He could easily go to either place and be welcome, but wasn’t enthused about the idea. For Christmas they were all flying to Bali. Exotic locations were a family tradition. But for once, he was saying no. He wanted to stick around Fool’s Gold. See the snow and the festivals. Plus he had his responsibilities with the toy drive.

His cell phone rang and he glanced at the screen. Speaking of responsibilities, he thought as Bailey’s name came up.

“Hey.”

“Hi. It’s Bailey. The collection bins have been delivered. I’ve confirmed all the supplies we’re going to need and wondered if you wouldn’t mind picking them up.”

“Not at all. Where are the bins?”

“The convention center. They have some space that isn’t being used, so I parked them there. It will be easy access for our decorating and plenty of parking. We’re at the north entrance. There are signs.” She also told him where to pick up the supplies for sprucing the bins.

“I’m writing it down,” he told her as he typed the information into his calendar. “We’re delivering the decorated containers the Friday after Thanksgiving?”

“That’s the plan. Oh, are you around? I didn’t think to ask if you’d be traveling.”

“I’m not.”

There was a pause, as if she were thinking. “Okay. Great. Because I thought you might be with family. Or, you know, a girlfriend.”

He leaned back in his chair and grinned. A not very subtle attempt to extract information. “There’s no girlfriend. And I’m staying in town for the holiday.”

“Good,” she said. The single word was followed by a quick intake of air. As if she was concerned he would think the “good” referred to his single state.

“I, ah, meant I appreciate your help. With the bins and all. I don’t think I could have fit them in my car or carried them into the different stores. And with Sam and Jack both out of town, I’m not sure who I would have asked....” She paused again. “Kenny, all your friends are going to be gone. Where are you having Thanksgiving dinner?”

The previous topic had been a whole lot more interesting to him. Was it possible he made Bailey nervous? Better and better, he thought, before turning to her question.

“I don’t have any plans.”

“You can’t be alone,” she told him. “You’re welcome to join Chloe and me. We’re planning to go to the parade and then have a pretty traditional dinner. Nothing fancy.”

He wasn’t interested in fancy. It was highly overrated. He thought about the beautiful redhead and her adorable daughter and realized the invitation was something he could put on his list to be thankful for.

“I’d like that a lot,” he told her.

“Really? I mean good. The parade is at noon. We’ll be walking over about eleven-thirty, if you want to join us. Or after.”

He smiled. “I’ll be there at eleven-thirty. I’ll bring pie.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to. I’m looking forward to the day.”

“Me, too.”

* * *

THE FOOL’S GOLD convention center was an older building that lacked much in the way of architectural detail. But it served its purpose and right now that was way more important to Bailey than anything in the way of visual interest.

She had eight Sprouts, eight collection bins, plenty in the way of paint, markers, glitter and glue, and milling adults to corral.

The bins themselves were round, about four feet tall and wide enough to take a tricycle. The outsides were a stiff cardboard. Clean but not very holiday-like. That was going to change.

“Big crowd,” Kenny said as he walked up to her. “I thought we’d get a few parents, but that was it. There have to be at least thirty people here.”

“I put the word out,” she said, trying to appear both pleasant and casual without giving away how her body had gone into hyperalert. He was so tall, she thought dreamily. So handsome. So nice.

The latter was the most dangerous. Because while his physical appeal was exciting, that kind of a crush wouldn’t last. If he’d been a jerk or arrogant or the least bit annoying, she could have dismissed his blue eyes or easy smile. But the niceness was the real problem. The more she got to know Kenny, the more she liked him. He’d been incredibly helpful during the inspection and now he was here to help the Sprouts with their bins. If the man rescued a kitten from a tree, she was going to be a goner.

“People just showed up?” he asked.

“You sound surprised. You’re here.”

He gave her that slow smile of his. “I had no choice. Mayor Marsha terrifies me.”

“I doubt that.” She glanced at her watch. “Time to get serious. You want to take charge or should I?”

The smile widened. “I like a woman in charge. Go for it.”

Bailey told herself not to read too much into his teasing comment as she walked to the front of the large conference room she’d chosen for the decorating.

“Good morning,” she said loudly.

The conversation stilled as everyone turned toward her.

“Thanks so much for coming. Our goal this morning is to decorate our collection bins for the toy drive. There’s one bin for each Sprout. We’d like the bins to reflect the individual Sprout’s personality and family traditions for the holidays.”

She went on to explain about the supplies and then broke everyone into groups. There was a mad rush for paint, glue and glitter. Gideon, a local late night DJ, strolled in with a portable music system.

“Mind if I set up?” he asked.

“I’d love it,” she told him.

Kenny walked up to her. “So what am I supposed to do?” he asked. “I don’t know anything about decorating a collection bin.”

“It’s okay. We’re just here to supervise. Make sure no one goes wild with the glue sticks. Or you can help Chloe.”

She pointed to the small group around her daughter. Madeline, who worked at the town’s bridal boutique, had offered to be Chloe’s substitute mom for the day. Bailey had been concerned that if she was supposed to be running the event, she wouldn’t be able to help Chloe very much. She’d gratefully accepted the offer of help.

Kenny looked around the large open space, then nodded toward Chloe. “I’ll be over there.”

“Hiding out?” she asked, her voice teasing.

“You know it.”

She watched him go. He was a good guy, she thought wistfully. Before she could allow her thoughts to drift to more places they shouldn’t, music filled the room. Gideon had brought a collection of upbeat holiday carols that soon had everyone singing while they worked.

Bailey walked to each of the Sprouts. Allison and her family and friends had come prepared with beautiful printouts of Russian nesting dolls.

“We’re going to decorate the background, then glue on the pictures of the dolls,” Allison told her. “We’ll put clear varnish over the top.”

“I like it,” Bailey said.

She noticed Allison’s mom had on a pretty beaded bracelet. For a second she thought it was an adult version of the bracelets the Sprouts wore—one with beads they earned for various projects.

Allison’s mom saw her studying the piece and held out her wrist. “Isn’t it wonderful? The beads represent all the colors of cancer awareness.” She smiled at her husband. “It was a gift for my birthday.”

The man in question smiled back. “You’d been hinting you wanted it for weeks. Don’t give me too much credit.”

They laughed together.

Bailey nodded and moved to the next group. But before she got there, she glanced back at the couple who had paused for a quick hug.