A Diamond For Christmas. Susan Meier

the weekend. I’ve even asked for help with Finley. Surely, I should be allowed to say you have a pretty laugh.”

      She stiffened. Then, as if realizing she was making too much out of nothing, she drew in a breath. “Yes. Of course, I’m sorry.”

      “No need to be sorry. Just relax.”

      She smiled. “Okay.”

      “Okay.”

      They spent an hour in human resources and returned to her office to pick up Finley for lunch. In the huge, bustling cafeteria they drank milk shakes and ate French fries. But Finley tossed her head back and covered her ears when “Here Comes Santa Claus” replaced the more sedate Christmas song that had been playing.

      “You know what puzzles me?” Shannon said, tugging one of Finley’s hands away from her ears. “How can you watch cartoons?”

      Finley’s eyes narrowed.

      Shannon picked up a French fry. “I mean, they’re not any more real than Santa. Yet you like cartoons. Wendy told me you did.”

      Finley’s mouth scrunched up.

      Shannon dipped her fry in ketchup. “So why don’t you start thinking of Santa the same way you do a cartoon character?”

      Finley glanced at Rory and he laughed. “It sounds perfectly logical to me.”

      Finley raised her gaze to the ceiling as if she could see the music.

      “Listen to the words and pretend Santa is a cartoon character.”

      Finley’s face contorted with little-girl concentration, then she smiled. “It’s funny.”

      “Of course, it is. That’s why people like to listen. It makes them laugh.”

      As if to prove that, Finley giggled.

      Rory laughed, too. But when he realized he was laughing and Finley was laughing because Shannon had turned Finley’s hatred of Christmas songs into acceptance, his laughter stopped.

      This woman was really special.

      Really special.

      She wasn’t just pretty or sexy or even really smart. She was attuned to life. People. It was as if she saw things other people missed and knew how to use that information to make everybody feel wanted, needed…happy.

      He said nothing as they returned to her office and deposited Finley with Wendy. But when they entered the office for the buyers that afternoon, he noticed something that he probably could have noticed that morning if he’d been clued in to look for it. These people loved her.

      “So what are you going to do, Shannon, if the store sells?”

      That question came from Julie Hughes, a woman in her twenties who gazed at Shannon with stars in her eyes, as if she were the epitome of everything Julie wanted to be when she got a little older.

      “I’m not sure.” Shannon smiled, casually leaned her hip on the corner of Julie’s desk, clearly comfortable with her staff. “This is only Mr. Wallace’s first day here. He may look around and decide he doesn’t want to buy us.”

      “He’d be crazy,” Fred Cummings said, leaning back in his chair. “We make a ton of money.” He pointed at Shannon. “Due in no small part to changes this woman made after her dad let go of the reins.”

      Shannon laughed. “I did a few things. They’ve only been up and running a few months.”

      Fred said, “Right.”

      But Rory got the message. Fred wouldn’t push anymore because he wouldn’t insult the last company president, Shannon’s dad, in front of Shannon. But it was clear things hadn’t always gone so smoothly at Raleigh’s Department Store.

      Heading back to the administrative officer, he said, “This is some place.”

      Though she’d downplayed her efforts in front of her staff, in the hall, away from anyone who could see, her face blossomed with pride. “Thank you.”

      “But I do have one really big question.”

      “Fire away. There’s no question too sacred.”

      “Why are you selling Raleigh’s? It’s clear you love this store. You’re also very good at what you do. Why would you want to give it up?”

      “My parents need the money from the sale to fund their retirement.”

      “Right. I get that. But you love it.” He paused, then asked the question that had been bothering him for the past few hours. “Why don’t you buy it?”

      She stopped. Faced him. “I tried. I couldn’t get financing.”

      “Oh. Did you try finding a partner?”

      “Are you offering?”

      He winced. “My family doesn’t partner. We either buy outright or nothing at all.”

      “I didn’t think so.”

      But Rory wasn’t so easily put off. “You said I’m the first person you approached. Surely there are others, investors who might consider a partnership—”

      She laughed slightly. “Rory. Are you trying to talk me out of selling to you?”

      “No. It’s just that it’s obvious to me that you’re going to miss the store.” He paused. When she didn’t reply, he said, “There’s more to this story. I need to hear it.”

      For a few seconds it looked like she wouldn’t reply. Finally she said, “I’ve actually only been working at the store a year. My husband had unceremoniously dumped me and I was devastated. So I came home. I expected to sleep away the next few months, but my dad wouldn’t let me.” She smiled, as if remembering. “Anyway, he got me working in the store, and when he retired a few months ago, he made me company president. Nobody expected that I’d blossom the way I did. I like the work enough that I could have stayed here the rest of my life.” She shrugged. “But my parents need the money, so I have to move on. But, on the bright side, at least now I know what I want to do with my life.”

      “Run another store?”

      “Maybe. Or maybe just head up the buyers.” She smiled. “Or the advertising department, public relations…”

      He laughed. “You won’t be happy unless you can have your finger in every pot.”

      But even as he laughed, an uncomfortable lump formed in his stomach. “I feel like I’m taking away your dream.”

      She shook her head. “Running my parents’ store is not my dream. It’s just a really great job.”

      “So what is your dream?”

      She started walking again, but he’d seen the sadness that shadowed her face.

      If he wasn’t taking away her dream by buying the store, something was up with her. He considered that maybe she couldn’t handle another change in her life only one year after her divorce. But she was a strong, competent woman. He believed her when she said she was over her ex and the accompanying sadness from her divorce.

      So what was it?

      Why did he know, deep in his gut, that something serious haunted her and somehow, some way, he contributed to it?

      He caught her arm and stopped her.

      When he didn’t say anything, she said, “Question?”

      He stared into her pretty blue eyes. All the physical reactions he’d held at bay all weekend came flooding back. Only now they were combined with emotions. He cared about her. He cared about her a lot. He didn’t want to take away her dreams. He liked her.

      The urge to kiss her itched through him again and he was growing tired of fighting it. Tired of fighting the first good thing that had happened to him in two long years.

      When