Christmas at Timberwoods - Fern Michaels [85]
It didn’t matter which one, he thought, just so long as she thought she was getting the best. That was an ironclad rule of retailing. He listened impatiently to another minute of prattle from her.
“Come in the employees’ entrance and go straight to the Toyland display. I’ll take care of the rest. You did say your little girl’s name is Maria?”
“Yes. Thank you, Mr. Richards, thank you,” Carol Andretti said humbly.
“No need to thank me, Mrs. Andretti. This is why I’m here,” Richards said magnanimously.
Chapter 14
Charlie Roman, his body one massive ache, parted the curtains and looked outside—the last time he would look out of this dirty window at the world. Today was the end of everything, for him and for everyone at the shopping center. His life would cease—all the hurt, the anger, the loneliness.
It was going to snow again. The sky was swollen and gray, the air cold and damp. He could feel it seeping in between the window frame and the sill. Shivering, he put on his robe and slippers and staggered downstairs.
His brain was fuzzy; he couldn’t get it together this morning. “Damn it,” he muttered, “I have to be sharp today or I could ruin everything.”
It took several applications of nasal spray before he could breathe through his nose. His chest felt as though a great weight was leaning on it and his back ached, too. His vision seemed to be blurred. He felt his forehead, shocked at how hot and dry it was. It really didn’t matter whether he was sick or not, he persuaded himself. The only thing that mattered was getting up to the roof during his lunch hour and testing that contraption. That was the only thing that mattered. And then . . .
Charlie prayed for heavy snow while he measured instant coffee into his cup. If it snowed, then Miguel and his men wouldn’t be out working on the roof.
He thought of Angela and her percolator coffee as he added boiling water. In spite of hating her for running out on him, for making a fool out of him, he missed her. The few days they’d had together had been the happiest days of his life. His hands trembled so violently he had to grasp the heavy mug with both hands. He gulped the fiery liquid and swallowed, oblivious to the pain as it scorched his swollen throat.
Even after he’d finished his coffee he didn’t feel much better. Should he have another cup? No, it wouldn’t make any difference. “Ho . . . ho . . . ho,” he croaked. His eyes began to tear and he sneezed four times in rapid succession. He would have to keep quiet when he got to the mall, stop himself from sneezing. If anyone heard him they might send him home. And he couldn’t afford for that to happen. It had to be today. Everything was set for today.
Felex Lassiter held the door open for Charlie Roman. “How goes it, Roman?” he asked, not really caring about the answer. “What’s with the Santa suit?”
Charlie shrugged, not wanting to open his mouth. Close up, he got recognized by people who knew him. In a crowd, not.
“Guess you got the holiday spirit, huh? Looks like one of our costumes, am I right?”
Still no answer.
“What’s the matter, elf got your tongue?”
Charlie didn’t laugh.
Felex eyed his stolid face. “Okay, maybe it wasn’t funny. But we could use another roving Santa. I think there are more kids in this mall than ever before. What do you think, Charlie?”
Charlie shrugged again. Christ, wasn’t the man ever going to shut up? If Lassiter kept it up, he’d have to respond sooner or later and that could trigger a fit of coughing.
Lex looked at Charlie suspiciously. “You’ll get overtime, if that’s what’s bugging you. And keep in mind that other mall employees are looking for extra work during the holidays. So if you want to be a Santa, the number one rule is be courteous. Got it? When someone speaks to you, you answer nicely every time. I’d better not get any negative feedback from the moms, Roman.”
Make an