Christmas Elopement

“As soon as I get someone to clean it up—”

“Oh, I can do that.” Carrie jumped off the stool and threw her arms around Gus’s neck.”You’re a lifesaver, Gus McGee.”

He patted her on the back and chuckled. As she pulled away and planted a kiss on his forehead, he asked,”When do you wanna start work?”

“Tonight, if you need me.”

“Go home and pack your stuff, Carrie girl, and I’ll have someone clean upstairs.” She started to argue but Gus cut her off.”When ya get settled in, we’ll talk about your work schedule, okay?”

She held up her index finger.”One condition.”

Gus narrowed his gaze.”And what might that be, lassie?”

“That you apply my wages toward rent.”

“I’ll do nothing of the kind. How will you live?”

“If I’m any good at my job, hopefully I’ll get tips.” Gus was shaking his head vigorously, but she persisted. “Besides, this is only temporary. I’ll be getting an office job soon enough. Then I’ll pay you rent like a normal person.”

Carrie stilled his head between her fingers and stopped his protest.”Gus…I’m a big girl now, and I’ve got my pride. Please?”

He took her hands in his once again.”You’re just as pigheaded as your pop, lassie.” He smoothed a stray lock of hair from her cheek and smiled.”And just as beautiful as your mama, God rest her soul.” He stood at last, pulling her into a gentle embrace before returning to his post behind the bar.

“Well?” he said, after a moment.”What are ya doin’ sittin’ around here lookin’ all misty-eyed? Don’t ya have boxes to pack?”

Sunday afternoon Carrie darted in front of the big screen, trying not to obstruct the game behind her. M. M. Day’s was filled to capacity with San Francisco 49ers fans cheering or booing each play of the game. The team was beating the Detroit Lions handily, which meant the crowd was in a good mood. Beer and tips flowed freely. She’d only been patted on the backside once so far.

Funny how the only accident she’d had was in that guy’s lap.

Well, it’d been a long time since she’d carried such a heavy tray, Gus explained to the irate patron as he left for home in search of dry clothes. Gus returned to the bar and Carrie placed another order, busying herself with cherries, olives and the like, ignoring Gus’s probing stare.

“So, lass…is that how you’ll handle anyone who gets too friendly?”

She grabbed a handful of cocktail napkins and kept her eyes cast down.”Probably,” she said, knowing full well she would.

Gus lifted her chin with his finger and looked at her sternly.”Do you suppose when the next accident happens you could have just one or two drinks on the tray and no food?”

A laugh burst from Carrie’s lips.”I suppose that could be arranged.”

He dropped his hand from her face and chuckled.”That geezer’s been a thorn in my backside for years. Don’t know why I never did that myself.”

His gaze left hers and she turned to see what had caught his attention. A young, prissy-looking man in a Brooks Brothers suit had settled into the corner booth by the window, far from the game and the men in jeans.

“Do you know that man?” Carrie asked.

“Afraid so. Comes in fairly regular. Orders salads and Perrier, which is fine with me. But he likes to talk. Gossips about everything and everyone and expects me to sit down and visit.” Gus looked back at Carrie and grinned.”Gee, the boys watchin’ the game are motionin’ for me, lass. Why don’t you go introduce yourself to Dwayne over there. Take a break. Talk to him about opera or somethin’. That’ll make him happy.” Gus patted Carrie on the shoulder as he passed, seeming pleased that he’d dodged the bullet.

Carrie watched the little man in the corner with a critical eye. He seemed harmless enough. Kind of reminded her of Dr. Niles Crane on the sitcom”Frasier.” She couldn’t help but wonder what brought him here. He looked as out of place as Rush Limbaugh at a Democratic fund raiser. Curiosity piqued, she strolled over.

“Can I get you something?” she started, taking a closer look at his precisely cut blond hair and deep-set brown eyes.

He lifted his chin and managed to talk down at her, even from his lower position.”I think I’ll do something daring and have a cup of clam chowder.”

Carrie bit the inside of her cheek.”And to drink?”

“Oh, some of that wonderfully flavored iced tea of yours, I think. Yes, yes. Bring me a tall frosted glass of it, please.” He closed his menu and handed it to her, cocking his head to one side.”You’re new here, aren’t you?”

“Yes. As of this weekend. It’s temporary, though…till I find something in my field.” His snobbishness had drawn the same from her. She scribbled his order and started to leave.

“Wait!”

She turned back and saw a rectangular smile of perfect teeth. With long, deliberate fingers he withdrew a gold case from his breast pocket, removed a business card and presented it to her with great flair.

She read it and said,”Ahhh…a headhunter.”

His back straightened.”I prefer to think of myself as a management placement professional.”

She was sure he did. She shot him a phony smile.”I’ll get your order.”

When she returned with the soup and tea she noticed a legal pad in front of Dwayne, a Waterman rollerball pen poised between his fingers. He nodded to the seat across from him. With only the slightest hesitation, she obliged. Why not? Maybe he could find her something similar to the opening at Cunningham Construction. She thought about telling dandy Dwayne what had happened last Friday, but decided against it.

Monday morning Peggy peered around the corner and Cash motioned her in.”I’m afraid to ask…Anything?”

Peggy wrinkled her nose and tossed her short blond hair from side to side.”Sorry, boss…but I did as you suggested. Dwayne Flutie is on line two.”

Cash looked at the ceiling and blew out a stream of hot air. The last time he used the guy it had cost the company over twenty grand in finder’s fees. However, he had located a good project manager—one who was still around and was a hell of a worker.”Okay, Peg. Thanks.”

Cash watched her scurry away before he picked up the phone.

Ten minutes later he hung up, stunned by the speed and efficiency with which Flutie had handled him. He had actually agreed to join the guy for dinner at some pub in Carmel. How was it he’d put it?

Oh, yes—”to meet just the woman you need.”

At 7:25 Cash parked his loaner a block past M. M. Day’s and slammed the door. He shook his head at its garish red color and made a mental note to call the garage in the morning. Hopefully the parts were readily available and he’d have his own wheels sometime soon. He strode the short distance to the entrance and found Flutie in a booth by the window. He half stood and held out his hand as Cash slid in across from him.

“Kind of you to join me on such short notice, Cash,” he said over a limp shake, then sat down and got right to business.”I have a résumé here that I’m sure you’ll find very impressive.” He slid it in front of Cash and leaned back, chin high, shoulders too straight.

Cash forced his gaze away from this strange little character to the paper in front of him. He’d read so many résumés the past few weeks that they all looked the same. Skipping the top portion, he went right to the experience section. He was prepared for a nice, neat format, good grammar and no substance. What he saw was fifteen years at a construction company—a woman who had worked her way from the bottom to management in nice steady steps. He even recognized the name of one of her references—a well-respected developer he’d done business with a few years back. As much as he hated to admit it, Flutie might have something here.

“Well, Dwayne,” he said,”when do I get to meet her?”

Three (#ulink_a086377b-8045-558d-b4ac-ef9f2f573798)

Carrie flew down the back inside stairway, then stopped at the connecting door. She inhaled and exhaled three deep breaths, then yanked the handle inward. Gus gave her a low whistle as she paused at the bar.

“You look terrific, lass. If your resume hasn’t already sold the guy, how can he resist the prettiest gal in Carmel?”

Carrie emitted a not too convinced chuckle.”I think your opinion is a tad biased, Gus McGee,” she said, as she eyed the front booth. She wished she’d allowed herself extra time to prepare. She felt more tense than usual, and there was also the fact that the only unpacked, unwrinkled outfit was the same one she’d worn last Friday. Adjusting the scarf at her neck, she questioned just how lucky it truly was. It hadn’t worked Friday. Why did she think it would now?