than anything around here.”
“Easy enough.”
“I just hope it works.”
Anna came in with an old-school vintage plaid thermos. The tall one with the cup attached to the top. “Here you go, girls. Good luck.”
“Thank you.” Vanessa put on her coat and Anna tossed a knitted scarf her way.
Vanessa caught the toffee-brown scarf in midair. “Where’d this come from?”
“Just a little something I worked on while watching television the other night.”
“I love the leather button accents,” Vanessa said.
Anna beamed. “I knew you would.”
“You made this?” Misty reached over and ran her hands across the stitching. “This is beautiful. It’s so soft, and not too frilly-looking.”
“That’s a simple checkerboard pattern. I’ll make you one. I brought yarn with me. I can’t stand to not have anything to do with my hands. I have red, black, a pretty cocoa color, and—”
“Red! Really? You’ll make me one too?”
“Absolutely. I’ll work on it today.” She leaned in sweetly. “It’ll give me an excuse to take a lazy day in front of the fire.”
“Merry Christmas to me.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” Anna said. “When you find that puppy, I’ll make him a bright red sweater so he can’t hide so easy!”
“That’s seriously a good idea.”
Vanessa agreed. “We’re off! Love you, Anna.”
“Love you too. Good luck.” Anna stood waving from the front porch.
Vanessa followed Misty around the corner to her truck. Misty hopped right in, while Vanessa fumbled with the running board to get a good solid step, then grabbed the handle and pulled herself up and buckled in.
After a quick stop at the office, Misty was on her way to get the word out.
“Are you sure you don’t need my help putting up the posters or anything?”
“I’m sure,” Misty said. “Thanks for helping me, though. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. Keep me posted.”
Misty rushed out the door and Vanessa stood there holding her hand to her heart. “Here’s hoping you find that little guy.”
* * *
At the end of the day, Misty knocked on Vanessa’s door. “I’m headed out. No calls on the puppy.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I wanted to thank you for your help. I mean, that has nothing to do with work. I really shouldn’t have burdened you with it. It wasn’t very professional of me.”
“You didn’t burden me. I was glad to help. I love that little guy too. He and I bonded during his visit.”
“I can give you a ride back to the carriage house if you’re ready to leave. Just thought I’d offer.”
She glanced across her desk. She still had some things she wanted to work on, but most of it could be done from the house, and the fireplace did sound inviting. “That would be great. I’ll ride with you to check for Scooter again if you want to take me the long way home.”
“Sounds good. We’ll stop at my house first, then the warehouse and over to Buck’s.”
“Before we go, I need Lilene to schedule something for me. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Vanessa gathered her things, then stopped at Lilene’s desk, where she sat singing along with a Christmas song on the radio as she checked time cards. “Lilene, I need you to schedule a meeting for tomorrow night.”
She laid down her pencil. “For everyone?” Her nostrils flared as she sucked in a slow breath and leaned back, a deep crease forming over her brow. “Is this from the call earlier today with corporate?”
“It is, but it’s not bad news. I just need to update everyone.”
She let out the breath. “I’ll call and schedule the elementary school. What time, six?”
“Let’s make it immediately following shift, so about five fifteen.” Vanessa started to walk off. “You know, let’s not do that. Instead, have everyone gather here at Porter’s.”
“Where will they sit?”
“They’ll stand. It won’t take long.”
“What about customers?”
“They’ll be mostly locals anyway. No secrets. Let’s keep it low-key. It’s winter. It’ll be a little cozy, but I think the holiday decorations will be nice, and if I speak from the third or fourth stairstep I’ll be able to see everyone just fine. Could you buy some of those cookies you had in the red tin in my basket?”
“The Retrops?”
“I don’t know. They were in ornament shapes and drizzled in chocolate.”
“I made those.”
“You did? Why do you call them Retrops?”
“‘Porter’ spelled backwards. I use the not-quite-right Porter’s cakes that they are going to throw away. Usually they are just a little too done on top. I add a few little things to it, roll them out, rebake them, and decorate them. I named them Retrops