My Only Christmas Wish. J.M. Jeffries

when I was four.”

      “Don’t these people know who you are?” He’d always thought spanking was a barbaric practice.

      “I don’t think they cared. These people are my village.”

      Confused, he could only stare at her.

      “You know,” Darcy said almost impatiently, “it takes a village to raise a child. And when I get around to having children, I want this—” she spread her hands to encompass the cafeteria “—and the rest of the store to be their village. And feeling the business end of Mabel’s palm didn’t do me any harm, in fact, it probably did a lot of good. And I hope she gets the opportunity to do the same for my children.”

      He finished the line and looked around for a place to sit down. “Where’s the private dining room?”

      “A private dining room!” she said in amazement. “We don’t have one, we’ll have to mingle with the ordinary folks.”

      He gazed down at her, his lips puckered in disapproval.

      “You really think you are lord and master of all you survey, don’t you?” she said in an exasperated tone. “Have fun trying to get Mabel to bow to you, she’ll take her spoon to your back end and she doesn’t care how old you are.”

      “I’ve done my time in the trenches,” he replied, thinking of the one summer he’d interned in the mail room. That had been enough manual labor for him for the rest of his life. “And I’ll let the police handle any attempt to smack me with a spoon.”

      Darcy’s mouth twitched. “Good luck with that. I’m sure her son, who is head of the detective division, will probably have something to say about that. If he lets that fly, then her daughter who is a district attorney will. Mabel spanked them, too.”

      She gestured him to sit at a table in a corner. He sat stunned. He hadn’t bought a department store, he was in the loony bin. What had he gotten himself into? Every step he’d taken to take charge had been derailed by this woman.

      “If you’re thinking you can fire anybody because they aren’t subservient enough for you, think again. If I can beat the unions and keep them out, trust me, I’m not afraid of you.”

      “I should think you’d be pro union.”

      “I let the union come in and allowed them to do their song and dance, but when we started comparing figures, my employees found out they would have to take a two-dollar decrease in pay to support their union dues and our insurance package was better than the minimum standards set by the union. Trust me, when it came to a vote, there were only two yes votes, and one of those was mine. I think the other yes vote was my stepfather.”

      “But,” he said, looking around at the cloth-covered tables, “there are so many things you could do to trim the fat and increase the profit margin.”

      “Number one, you’re talking about your profit margin. And number two, what you call fat, I call flavor.”

      She drizzled maple syrup over her waffles, cut them and dug in. He watched her eat. “But with the economy in the shape it’s in, you…”

      “Listen,” she interrupted, an impatient tone in her voice, “yeah, the economy has made a dent in our sales margin, but we have incredibly loyal customers who know that Bennett’s will do everything possible to stay open, and if that means less profit margin, then that’s how it will be. I will not allow Bennett’s to compromise on quality.”

      “You don’t own Bennett’s anymore.”

      She stopped eating and simply studied him. “I can go to a banker whose wife is a long-time customer of mine and get financing to open another store. And if I do, I can guarantee you will not have only some stiff competition, but every employee in this store will go with me. You’ll have to immediately train 450 people to replace those who will desert you to go with me.”

      Okay, he thought. The gauntlet had been thrown, and this was war. “When I walked in this morning, I saw this delicate creature who I thought I could just run roughshod over, and now I find you have a spine of titanium. That surprised me and nothing surprises me anymore.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “Ms. Bennett, be prepared. I’m unleashing my dogs of war.” The thought excited him. He hadn’t had a good battle with a worthy opponent in a long, long time.

      He stood, turned around and walked away.

      Chapter 2

      Before he’d gone two feet, he bumped into Mabel. She glared at him. He glanced back at Darcy who had an innocent look on her lovely face. His dramatic exit had been ruined.

      Mabel stood with one hand on her ample hip with her wooden spoon shaking in his face. “You better sit down and eat my waffles.”

      For a second he felt five years old and in trouble again. Before he could analyze why he felt a little afraid of this woman, his cell phone rang. The ring tone was Sophia’s favorite tune from How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

      “Daddy,” Sophia said.

      He couldn’t help smiling. “Roo, what’s going on?” Just the sound of his seven-year-old daughter’s voice gave him such joy. Sometimes he looked at her and couldn’t believe she was his daughter. In his own way, he was building her future with the purchase of Bennett’s.

      His daughter sighed, an almost resigned tone. “Ms. Battles just left with her suitcase. She said she was just going to the grocery store, but I don’t think she needs a suitcase for shopping, does she?”

      “Where is Mrs. Emery?” Mrs. Emery was his housekeeper and had worked for him since Angela’s death.

      “She’s gone. You gave her the weekend off.”

      “What about Judy?” Judy was his personal assistant and was the most reliable employee he had.

      “Judy tried to call you, but couldn’t get through. There’s a big accident on the highway and she’s stuck and doesn’t know when she’ll be back.” Roo sounded more than scared, she sounded panicked.

      “I’ll be home in thirty minutes,” he said. “Make sure all the doors are locked and go up to your room and stay there.”

      He took a step forward and Mabel stopped him with a hand planted in the center of his chest. “Wait.”

      “What?” he said.

      “Don’t hang up yet.” She whipped her phone out of her pocket and dialed. “Lamont,” she said, “this is your mama. I need you to send a cruiser to—” she looked at Eli “—what’s your address?”

      “1120 Parkwood.”

      “1120 Parkwood,” Mabel said into the phone. She listened for a moment, and then explained the problem. “What’s your daughter’s name?”

      “Sophia, but I call her Roo.”

      She repeated that, and then closed the phone. “My son will have a cruiser at your address as soon as possible. You tell her a policeman is coming to sit with her until you get home.”

      He looked at Mabel in total surprise. He passed the info on to his daughter and she sounded relieved. He put the phone in his pocket. “Why are you doing this?”

      “You’re family now. Though the jury is still out, you’re one of us.” She glanced around Eli, then at Darcy who sat poised on the edge of her chair, a slight frown marring her features. “Ms. Darcy will drive you home.”

      “I don’t need anyone to drive me home,” he said, annoyed that an employee had just issued him an order.

      “Ms. Darcy will drive you home,” Mabel said, and turned away as though she’d won the argument.

      Darcy jumped up and grabbed him by the arm. “Come on.” She half dragged him toward her office where he’d left his coat.