Somebody's Santa

Zach, who had worked the cleaning cart into the hallway by now, laughed.

Dora opened her mouth to remind him it wasn’t part of his job description to make assumptions about her or eavesdrop on her and her guests. The squeak, rattle, squeak of the cart told her Zach had already moved on, though. She was alone in her office with Burke Burdett.

But not for long.

She reached out for a button on her phone, hesitated, then raised her eyes to meet those of her visitor.

He had good eyes. Clear and set in a tanned face with just enough lines to make him look thoughtful but still rugged. But if one looked beyond those eyes, those so-called character lines, there was a hard set to his lips and a wariness in his stance.

“Give me one reason not to call security to come up here and escort you out,” she said.

“Well, for starters, I don’t think the poor kid you’ve got posted at the front desk knows how to find the intercom button to hear you, much less where your office is.” He dropped into the leather wingback directly across from her. Years ago an old hand had taught Dora that standing was the best way to keep command of an exchange. Stand. Move. Hold their attention and you hold the reins of the situation.

Burke had just broken that cardinal rule. And made things worse when he stretched his legs out in front of him, crossed his boots at the ankle to create a picture of ease. He scanned the room, saying, “Besides, he was the one who let me in.”

Dora wasn’t the only one who noticed and befriended the people everyone else looked right past. “And what did you use to convince that so-green-he’s-in-danger-of-being-mistaken-for-a-sprig-of-holly security guard to get him to do that?”

“Use? Me? Why, nothing but the power of my dazzling personality and charm.”

“I’ve been on the receiving end of your charm, Mr. Burdett. It’s more drizzle than dazzle.” She’d meant it as a joke. A tease, really. Under other circumstances, with another man, maybe even a flirtation.

Burke clearly knew that. All of it. He responded in kind with the softest and deepest of chuckles.

And Dora found herself charmed indeed.

“So the security kid is already sort of on my side in this deal,” he summed up.

“Deal?” She stood so quickly that her chair went reeling back into the wall behind her desk. She did not acknowledge the clatter it made. “There is no deal. You made that very clear to me when you cut me out of your family’s plans to save the Crumble and get things there back on track.”

Last summer, after working his way quickly up the corporate ladder at Global, Adam Burdett had returned to Mt. Knott with a scheme to buy out Carolina Crumble Pattie and get some satisfaction for all the perceived wrongs done against him by his adoptive father. It had all seemed a bit soap operaish to Dora, but as a good businesswoman she knew those were exactly the elements that put other people at a disadvantage in forging a business contract. Emotions. Family. Old hurts. They could push things either way.

In this case, they had eventually gone against Global’s proposed buyout. And in favor of Adam Burdett, and by extension, Dora. Together they had the wherewithal to save the company and the desire to do so. It wasn’t what either of them had planned, but then love had a way of changing even the most determined minds. Adam’s love for Josie—now his wife—his son, his family. And Dora’s for the town of Mt. Knott, its way of life, the thrill of a new venture based on the same kind of Biblical principles that had once motivated Global a few dozen mergers ago. And her love for Burke.

She hadn’t loved him right away but by the end of the summer, she thought she did love him. And she thought he loved her back.

Only she hadn’t been thinking. She had been feeling and acting on those feelings. Which had brought her full circle, only then she had become the one at a disadvantage in the contract negotiations. Dora was out. Adam was in. Burke had been nowhere to be found.

Burke glanced her way, then went right on surveying their surroundings. “This is a new deal that I’ve come to talk to you about today.”

“New deal? Why would I talk to you about a new deal? Or that old deal? You didn’t talk to me about that then and I don’t want to talk to you about…”

“Look, I’m here now, dazzling or not, with a new deal to discuss. The past is past. I can’t change it. Isn’t there anything more important for us to talk about than that?”

Only about a million things. Yet given the chance to bring up any of them all Dora could come up with was, “I can’t imagine what we’d have to say to one another.”

“I can. At least, I have some things I want to say to you.”

Her whole insides melted. Not defrosted like an icicle, dripping in rivulets until it had dwindled to nothing but a nub, but more like a piece of milk chocolate where the thumb and finger grasp it—just enough to make a mess of everything.

“You have something to say to me?” She bent her knees to sit, realized her chair was a few feet away and moved around the desk instead to lean back against it. “Like what, for instance?”

“Like…” He tilted his head back. He narrowed his eyes at her. He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair.

The leather crunched softly, putting her in mind of a cowboy shifting into readiness in the saddle. Readiness for what, though?

She held her breath.

He leaned forward as if every decision thereafter depended on her answer, asking softly and with the hint of his smile infusing his words, “Like, what do you want for Christmas?”

She almost slid off the edge of the desk. “I…uh…”

What did she want for Christmas? “After six months of not so much as a phone message, you drove all the way from South Carolina to Atlanta to ask me what I want for Christmas?” She stood up to retake control of what was clearly a conversation with no real purpose or direction. “Are you kidding me? Who does that?”

He could not answer her. Or maybe he could answer but didn’t want to. He just sat there.

And sat there.

She could hear him breathing. Slow and steady. See his eyes flicker with some deep emotion but nothing she could define without looking long and hard into them. And she was not likely to do that.

She cleared her throat. She could wait him out. She had waited him out, in fact. He had been the one who had come to her, not the other way around. Even though early on there had been plenty of long, lonely nights when she had wanted nothing more than to hop in her car, or in the company jet or hitch a ride on a passing Carolina Crumble delivery truck to get herself back to South Carolina to confront him. Or kiss him.

Or both.

She wanted to do both. Even now. Which made it imperative that she do something else all together. So she plunked down on the edge of the desk again and said the only thing that made any sense at all to her, given the circumstances. “What I want is for you to go back to Mt. Knott and just leave me in peace.”

“Peace. Yes.” His slow, steady nod gave the impression of a man who longed for the very same gift—but doubted he’d ever find it. “That I can’t promise you. That’s better a request for the One who sent his Son.”

“Nice save,” she whispered, thinking of how deftly he’d avoided her demand for him to leave.

“Best save ever made, if you think about it.”

She looked out into the hallway at the Christmas decorations going up. Global would not have a nativity scene, or any reference to the birth of Christ, and yet they covered the place in greenery, the symbol of life everlasting. All around her this time of year, the world came alive with symbols of hope. They rang in the ears, they delighted the eye, they touched the heart. It was such a special time, a time when one could believe not just in the wonder of God’s Son but also in the possibilities for all people of goodwill.

Maybe even for a person like Burke.

Maybe he had really come here because he wanted to know what she wanted. Maybe he needed to know that she could still want him, to tell her that he had made a mistake, to tell her that she…

He shifted forward again, clasping his hands. “As for me…”

As for me. He had asked what she wanted, ignored her reply and went straight for his real purpose in coming. Me.

Himself.

He didn’t want to know about her, he wanted to ask her to do something for him.

The moment passed and Dora stood again. She had to get him out of here. She had to keep him from saying another word that might endear him to her, that might give her reason to hope….

“As for you, Mr. Burdett.” She moved to the door and made a curt jerk of her thumb to show him the way he should exit. “I don’t really care what you want for Christmas.”