Sleigh Bells - Fern Michaels Page 0,4
I told him if he paid me, I would. It was a standoff. I have an idea. Want to hear it?”
Eva smiled at the excitement in her daughter’s voice. She leaned forward to hear what she just knew was going to be a smashing idea. “What’s he doing now?”
“Watching us. I am going to decorate the shop like a fairy land. Gossamer, angels, Santas, sleighs, Santa sacks. I’m going to gift wrap Santa sacks for the kids. I already ordered the red and green burlap. Colored raffia ties for around the sacks. I’m going to suspend some reindeer from the ceiling with wires. Bess said her husband will make us a wooden sled and paint it. The best part is the room is big enough to do all this. We’ll get some publicity with the local paper. Parents will bring their kids to see it and, hopefully, shop. Extra business for Eagle’s, but Josh won’t see it that way, would be my guess. This is the part you might have a problem with, Mom, but hear me out, okay? I’m going to, for a price, agree to wrap purchases from other stores. On a drop-off, pick-up-later basis. I’ll hire a few extra people, and we’ll do it after hours, when the store is closed. Josh won’t have a comeback because I pay my own utilities.”
“Can you do that, Angie?”
“My lawyer said I could, so that’s good enough for me. Josh will fight me, but that’s publicity for me. I’m looking at it as win-win. You look worried, Mom. Are you seeing something I’m not seeing?”
“Well…You know me, I’m just a born worrier. If your lawyer says it’s okay, then I guess it’s okay.”
Angie frowned. What was wrong with her mother? Normally, she’d be up for anything to make the shop prosper. She risked a glance in the direction of Angus Eagle. Caught staring, she offered up a wide smile. To her delight, Angus winked at her. Now that’s something I’ll have to think about later.
“How’s that new company doing with your special order?” Eva asked.
“Mom, you won’t believe it, but they came through royally, and the price is unbelievable. One-of-a-kind baubles, artificial greenery that looks better than the real stuff, and it’s been sprayed, so it even has a balsam scent. I ordered tons of stuff. Their ribbon is satin. Real satin, all widths. Our Christmas packages are going to be over the moon. And it’s just a little cottage industry in a small town called Hastings, in Pennsylvania. They’re going to start shipping the merchandise to the house next week.”
Mother and daughter spent the next hour discussing a real tree versus artificial, paper wrap versus foil wrap, and other unusual ways to wrap gifts.
A bell sounded in the hallway. Betsy appeared to take away the frozen peas. She chatted for a moment, asked Eva if she wanted to return to her room or stay to watch television. “Five minutes, ladies.”
“I guess I better get going, Mom. I’ll be back in the morning with the order from Dunkin’ Donuts. Two dozen donuts, right? Same number on the coffees?”
Eva smiled. “Plus one more for Angus.”
Angie picked up her jacket and purse before she hugged and kissed her mother good night. She was almost to the door when she saw Josh Eagle standing in the doorway staring at her. She was about to move past him when a devil perched itself on her shoulder. “Spying on me, Mr. Eagle? Or are you stalking me? Shame on you!” She said it loud enough so everyone in the room could hear.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Ms. Bradford. I’m here to see my father.”
Angie whirled around and pointed to the clock. “Well, that figures! You have three minutes to visit. Oh, is that a gift for your father? A Hershey’s bar! How kind of you. Money-hungry jerk,” she hissed, before she sailed through the doorway and down the hall.
“Witch!” Josh hissed back, but loud enough to be heard by the patients. “Hey, wait a minute, you forgot your broom!”
Angie stopped in her tracks and turned around. “What did you just call me, you pompous, money-hungry, no-good pissant?” Venom dripped from Angie’s lips as sparks flew from her eyes.
Josh Eagle immediately regretted his words, but he couldn’t back down now. “I called you a witch and said you forgot your broom. You called me a money-hungry jerk. So now I’m a pissant. Well, it takes a pissant to know a pissant.”
The captive audience gasped as they watched the