Angels at Christmas - By Debbie Macomber Page 0,28

her even if he did object. "All right, paint your angels. I'll have the windows cleaned."

Her appreciative sigh came over the telephone line. "Thank you, Roy. I'll be there Wednesday."

"Fine."

"I'm not going to bother you," she assured him. "You won't even know I'm there."

This seemed to be his day for dealing with irrational women. He could hear the determination in his mother's voice. For whatever reason, she felt it was important to paint a Christmas scene, and not just any scene, either. But if painting angels on his windows made her happy, then he guessed there was no harm in it.

"Fine, Mother, come and do as you wish."

"I promise you're going to love my Christmas angels."

Roy rolled his eyes. "I'm sure I will, Mother."

She seemed to be in a chatty mood and went on about dinner with her college friend. "I'm not keeping you from anything, am I?" she asked after talking nonstop for several minutes. "I know how busy you are."

For the first time in a very long while, Roy found he actually liked speaking to his mother - as much as he was capable of liking anything other than business. "It's fine, Mom."

For some reason, she seemed to get choked up over that and quickly ended the conversation. He replaced the receiver and stared down at his phone, hardly knowing what to make of his mother. Women. He'd never understand them.

Roy worked for another half hour and then realized he wasn't in the mood. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do, but he was leaving the office. Any file he needed could be accessed from the computer at his condo - a sprawling five-thousand-square-foot penthouse suite overlooking Lake Washington.

As Roy left the elevator and walked into the lobby, he saw a truck towing a vehicle away from the handicapped parking slot.

Jason, the security guard, wore a satisfied grin. "Ms. Wilcoff's car," he said, answering Roy's unspoken question. "In her rush to get in to see you, she parked illegally. Her father wasn't willing to make allowances."

He was enjoying this more all the time. "Where is she?"

"Her father said she could either take the bus or wait until he was available to give her a ride. She decided to walk."

That was exactly what Roy would have expected. "Any idea how much of a hike that is?" he asked.

Jason nodded. Grinning, he glanced down at the polished marble floor. "I think it's about ten miles."

A smile tempted Roy. "I see."

"You can rest assured she won't make it past me a second time, Mr. Fletcher. Her father's banned her from the building, too, so you don't have anything to worry about."

"I appreciate that," Roy said, pushing through the glass doors, but as he walked out of the building, he realized that wasn't true. Despite everything, he'd enjoyed his encounter with Julie, reveled in it. He felt alive in ways he'd forgotten.

Roy turned back. "Do you know which direction she was headed?" he asked the guard.

Jason looked surprised. "North, I'd guess."

"Thanks." Roy was going south himself, but a small detour wouldn't be amiss. He didn't think she'd accept a ride, but he'd ask. Perhaps a brisk walk would help her vent her anger and make her a little more amenable to reaching some kind of agreement.

Roy drove a black Lincoln Continental with tinted glass. He could see out but no one could see in, which was precisely the way he wanted it. He exited onto the main street heading north and stayed in the right-hand lane. He drove a couple of miles, mildly impressed by how far she'd gotten. She'd made good time. Perhaps she'd grown tired and taken a bus. Or perhaps she'd hailed a taxi.

Then he saw her, walking at a quick pace, arms swinging at her sides. Roy reduced his speed to a crawl as he approached her. Traffic wove around him, some cars honking with irritation, but he ignored them and pulled up alongside Julie. With the touch of a button, the passenger-side window glided down.

She glanced in his direction and her eyes widened when she recognized him.

"Get in," he said.

"Why should I?"

Time to play nice, he figured. "Please."

She hesitated, then walked to the curb and leaned down to talk to him. "Give me one reason I should do anything you say."

"I'll drive you home."

That didn't appear to influence her. "I'm halfway there already."

Horns blared behind him. "If you don't hurry up and decide, I'll get a traffic ticket."

"Good. It's what you deserve."

"Julie, come on, be reasonable.