Page 10 of Miss Christmas

“Here’s your meeting agenda,” Margo said. “You’ll have to explain to each of the finalists what’s expected of them. First-day orientation, training, and workshops all day, then dinner. The second day is stage rehearsal in the afternoon and then show-time for the pageant. When you meet with them you need get to know them, get them to open up to you. We can’t have any of them embarrassing us like what happened last year. Here’s a list of red-flag items to look for. You’ll need to coax any background dirt out of them you can get.”

“How am I supposed to do that in a half hour without sounding like a creep? I can’t just ask, ‘Hey, have you ever worked as a stripper?’”

“Technically you could, but we’ve covered that. There’s a steep penalty for lying on that questionnaire. If the contestant won and we found out they lied, they would forfeit everything.”

“You think that’s going to intimidate an ambitious young woman who wants to win?” He thought of Scarlet and knew she’d scoff at any penalty. She was a risk-taker down to her enticing bones. He shook his head. The exact kind of woman he ought to avoid. “I think what you need is an investigator if you’re serious about eliminating anyone with a sketchy background.”

“Great idea, Will. Get our store investigator on it.”

Damn. Contestants would have to sign a waiver giving them permission to allow the investigation. He couldn’t argue with Margo since it had been his suggestion, but the last thing he wanted to do was tell Scarlet she would be investigated. It was too intrusive, like he’d be forcing secrets from her private vault before she wanted to reveal them. He was intrigued, though, to see what secrets an investigation might find and, at the same time, he was almost afraid of the answers.

Then he shook his head. What the hell did it matter? Scarlet was a lark. There was no future in a relationship with her. Even a temporary fling was unwise. Damn stupid. She was trouble, but not because he thought she would do anything nasty, more because she wrecked his concentration on anything but her.

“And remember, Will. Keep an open mind. We want to give Grandma Regal the best Christmas present ever.” Margo winked, then left in a whirl of energy in spite of her round belly. Will couldn’t help smiling.

He’d love to have what his cousin George had some day—a happy home with a beautiful adoring wife and a child on the way. If he didn’t love George like a brother, he’d hate him.

He called after Margo, “You know this is a ridiculous, harebrained scheme to fix me up with a date, let alone for Christmas Eve dinner. To meet Grandma?” She ignored him.

Frances rose to leave.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Will gave her the list of names with phone numbers. “Here. You can contact the finalists to notify them of their good luck.”

“Shucks, I wouldn’t want to rob you of all the fun.”

“Set up the meetings for tomorrow.”

“All of them? In one day?” Fran sat back down.

“We need to get this—” He would have said over with, but he needed to improve his attitude. “Done. So we have time for the investigations before the publicity starts.”

“Speaking of which—when do you want to schedule the media day? Where we announce the finalists and have them parade around the store—it’s here on the agenda. They’ll need to come in to be fitted for their outfits.”

“Take care of it, Fran. Please. Set it up. I have sales reports to review today before a meeting with the department managers.”

Fran lifted her not-unsubstantial frame from the chair and walked toward the door.

“Thank you so much, Will.” She adopted a breathy voice to mock him. “It’s like a dream come true. Running a beauty pageant.”

Without looking away from his computer screen, Will said, “There’s a bonus in it for you. A nice big fat one.”

He heard the door close without her making another comment and he laughed. Money was the way to Fran’s heart, but the old gal enjoyed toying with him.

* * *

It was a long day made even longer by his struggle to wrestle Scarlet from his head at odd moments when she’d pop up, causing his suddenly juvenile body part to pop up too, and playing havoc with his focus. He could understand when this had happened when he’d been bored by a droning presentation by the new marketing assistant who needed to work on his speaking skills just before lunch. But it was disconcerting to have Scarlet intrude in the midst of the parade of numbers and data columns that would normally have him mesmerized. Not today.

Past dark on this short December day, he found himself staring down at the street, yet again, at the little diner on the corner. He could barely identify the door to see if he could spot her leaving. Checking his watch again, he groaned aloud and went for his coat. Damn the woman. No matter how unwise, there was no way he could let her leave without making good on his promise to stop in.

The least he could do was escort her home. She probably took the subway on a normal afternoon, but today he would treat her. He felt like Prince Charming in a Cinderella episode gone wrong. He felt like a fool. And yet . . .

He stalked out the door of his office, slipping his coat on as he went.

“Where the hell are you going in such a rush?” Fran’s canny eyes tracked him. He ignored her and went for the private express elevator.

* * *