Christmas Elopement

“I’ll get right on it.”

Cash eyed the blueprint in front of him, then checked his watch. If he left now, he could visit at least one job site and still make it to the pub on time. He rolled up the blueprint, shoved it into its labeled tube and grabbed his briefcase.

As he passed Peg’s desk, he called over his shoulder,”Flutie’s going to be calling me back. Catch me on the mobile with his answer. I’ll be back after two, Peg.”

Peg waved an acknowledgment and picked up the next call.

Carrie replaced the receiver and met Gus’s curious gaze.

“Cunningham wants to talk with me…here at eleven.”

“How ‘bout that! He’s not as pigheaded as I thought he was,” Gus said with a devilish twinkle in his eye. “I think you have a new job, lass.”

A part of her said Gus was right. Another part left her breathless and worried. But there wasn’t time to analyze why. Tables needed setup and the bar needed restocking. She pulled a couple of fifths from the crate, wiped them with a damp cloth and found empty spaces behind Gus. “Even if he makes an offer—which isn’t at all a sure thing-I’ll still give you two weeks’ notice.”

Gus stopped wiping the counter and faced her.”You’ll do no such thing, Carrie Sargent. If he wants you to start tomorrow, you go.”

“But you’ve already scheduled—”

He gripped her by the shoulders and finished her sentence.”I’ve already scheduled you for more hours than two of my regulars…which means they’re grousing among themselves when they know I’m listening. So it’s settled, lass.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Gus?” She’d half suspected as much from her lukewarm treatment by the other waitresses, but she’d hoped it was just because she was new and had to prove herself.

“Because I knew you’d find something soon and they’d get over it. Besides, the same ones complain when I don’t give ‘em enough time off. So now, Carrie darlin’, do we have a deal?”

She pulled him into a bear hug.”You’re not the crusty old goat you pretend to be, Gus McGee,” she said, a sheen settling over her eyes.

He thumped her on the back and returned to his chores, disguising his own emotions with a gruff response.”Well, we’ll see about that. If ya don’t get those tables ready before I open the door, I might have to fire ya before ya ever set eyes on that Mr. Cunningham.”

She threw a stack of napkins atop a tray of silverware and rushed around the end of the bar, doing her best to feign fear at his idle threat.

Her tasks were barely complete when Gus unlocked the door at 10:30 and a stream of patrons rushed in. Carrie greeted them all with a smile, calling the regulars by name as she ushered them to a booth or table. It was nearly eleven before more help arrived and the customers’ needs were all attended to. She’d intentionally left the front booth by the window unoccupied. Now she noticed the lone figure there. He’d seated himself and was patiently waiting, watching her every move. Dark hair and blue eyes faced her whenever she stole a peek.

Finally Gus took her tray and whispered hear her ear,”What are you waiting for? Christmas? Go talk to the man, lass. We got things covered.”

Carrie wiped her hands on her apron and tucked unruly curls behind each ear, exhaled a long breath and walked to the corner booth. She slid in opposite him, noticing her shortness of breath—which seemed to be a recurring problem whenever she was near this man. Was she intimidated or bedazzled? Either way, she didn’t like it, and she fought for a measure of control.

“Would you like some coffee?” Way to go. Start off subservient. That strengthens your position.

“No, thanks. I’ve had my fill for the day.” His planner was open to blank note pages, with his pen resting on top.”Are you sure you can spare the time now? I don’t want to cause you trouble on the job.”

Well, I’ll be! Sensitivity. Maybe she’d misjudged him.”It’s okay. I told Gus you were coming and he said to take whatever time we need.”

Cash picked up his pen and rolled it in those long, elegant fingers of his—fingers she could picture on a keyboard, rather than a high beam on a construction site. Slow, methodical fingers. She forced her gaze away from his hands. It wasn’t calming her nerves in the least. He raised his head and eyed her, seeming to weigh his words carefully before he spoke.

“Your résumé is impressive and your references think highly of you.”

But? She could feel his hesitation.

“Are you interested in the job?”

She blinked twice, trying not to let her mouth fall open.”Well…yes, I am.” She straightened in her seat.”Is this the time to discuss terms?”

He smiled, then thumbed through his planner for a page of prepared figures, which he tore out and placed on the table. Slowly he turned the page around and slid it closer to her, nodding for her to read.

After one full year—insurance and one week’s vacation. He had to be kidding. She glanced up, hoping to find a teasing smile, but was met by a poker face. She looked back to the paper and skimmed to the last line—compensation.

That did it!

“You can’t be serious?” She shoved the paper back in his direction.

His jaw muscles tightened.”You don’t like the terms?”

“Terms?” She tried to control her temper, but felt it slipping by degrees.”Those aren’t terms.”

“And what would you call them?” His anger flared as easily as hers.

“I’d call them a cash-and-carry discount plan! That’s what I’d call them.”

His anger disappeared, replaced by an amused smirk.”Cash and Carrie.” He paused a moment, considering her words, then laughed a low laugh and shook his head.”We’re bound to be the brunt of a few jokes around the office. Never thought of that before.” Then he met her gaze again.”Okay. I give, Carrie.” He leaned on her name.”What do you think would be fair?”

Carrie relaxed a little, encouraged by his reaction. Anyone with a sense of humor couldn’t be all bad.”First tell me what your policy manual says about insurance and vacation. You can’t very well give me something contrary to the manual.”

Cash closed his planner, leaned back and crossed his arms. His gaze drifted around the room before settling on hers.

“You don’t have a policy manual?” she asked incredulously.

“Have you ever written one?”

“Yes.”

“Then maybe that should be your first task. Are you up to the challenge?” He shot her a coy look, and she picked up his pen.

Retrieving the paper, she scribbled new terms next to his, then slid it back to him.”Are you up to these?” He drummed his fingers in silence, and she thought she’d pushed too far.

Finally he folded the paper, stuffed it in the back pocket of his planner and slid from the booth. Carrie sat looking up at him, her stomach in her throat once again.

“Do you have to give notice?”

She exhaled softly.”No.”

“Will eight tomorrow morning work for you?”

She slid from the booth, her feet now inches from his. She put on her best piece-of-cake smile and pretended not to notice his baby blues gazing down at her.”Eight tomorrow it is.”

Four (#ulink_1c9ecd6e-ec95-5f2a-9e6d-5c554db831dc)

Early Wednesday morning Gus pulled up at the front door. Carrie yawned, then stretched across the car’s console, planting a kiss on his unshaved cheek.”What would I do without you, Gus McGee?”