A Lot Like Christmas. Dawn Atkins

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СКАЧАТЬ cups toward Theo. “These two are great.” She tapped the third. “This one, the flavors clash too much.”

      “You have the best taste buds,” Theo said with a sigh, along with that wistful look they both pretended didn’t exist. “Thanks, Sylvie.”

      “This is for you,” Chase said, holding out an umbrella.

      Theo took it, carrying it at arm’s length as if it smelled bad as he headed back to his booth.

      “You have the best taste buds?” Chase whispered to her.

      “He likes to get opinions, okay?”

      “He’s hot for you, Sylvie.”

      “We’re friends.”

      “Not if he had his way, trust me.”

      Theo was sweet, a good listener and an interesting man. If they didn’t work together, she might even consider going out with him. He’d be easy to spend time with. She kept her dating habits orderly. No more than two nights a week and nothing intense. She wasn’t ready for intense. She wasn’t sure she ever would be.

      That awful crush she’d had on Chase was her first lesson in how crazy she might get. Her mother was the second. Desiree was impulsive and romantic, treating her heart like a throw pillow, tossing it to a guy way too early. Then, when he failed to catch it or threw it back, she sank into depression. Sylvie did not have the resilience for that much misery.

      She needed a stable life with no roller coasters.

      “You’ve probably got every unattached man here and half the married ones drooling over you,” Chase mused. “That’s ridiculous.”

      He tilted his head. “You still don’t know how hot you are, do you? It’s probably better that way. You might be tempted to use your powers against us and we’d be putty in your hands.”

      “That line work for you with the women?”

      “Gotta call it real, dawg.” His rapper imitation made her smile. “That’s how I roll.”

      “Even if that were true, I don’t date people from work.”

      “Plus there’s your boyfriend in Seattle.”

      “Not that again.”

      “Sensitive subject?” He leaned in.

      “I didn’t appreciate Mary Beth mentioning him to Fletcher. I went to Seattle for a visit. Not to move there. Finish your drink so we can get going.”

      “Not sure I dare, with the evil eye Theo gave me.” He sniffed the shake. “Doesn’t arsenic smell like almonds?”

      She had to laugh. “He knew I wanted to be GM, so he’s upset for me. He wouldn’t poison you—not without my say-so anyway.”

      Chase laughed, then removed the straw and took a gulp. Sylvie watched, mesmerized by the swell of his neck muscles as he swallowed. He slammed the empty cup to the table. “There. If I’m going to die, at least I’ll go out with something tasty on my tongue.”

      Tongue. The word alone gave her an inner twinge. Ridiculous. Sylvie grabbed her box and they set off.

      “How was Mary Beth as a manager?” Chase asked as they walked.

      “She worked hard. She cared. She was a bit disorganized, as you saw from her computer, and maybe too social. I filled in where I was needed. We made a decent team, I think.”

      “You’d be good on any team, Sylvie.”

      “I try.”

      He stopped in front of her and touched her arm. “I’m serious. Despite what my father said about loyalty, no one would blame you if you wanted to move on. We’d give you a strong recommendation, of course.”

      “What are you trying to say?” A chill shot through her. “Are you telling me to quit?”

      “I’m just saying you have options beyond Starlight Desert.”

      “I love it here and I intend to stay.”

      “Got it,” he said, hands up at her vehemence.

      She introduced him to more shop owners and he handed out umbrellas. When they reached the space Marshall had rented to his golf buddy, the jai alai booster, Chase stopped. “Jai alai?” He turned to her.

      She shrugged. “This spot’s tough to rent and the president of the booster club is a friend of Marshall’s. They want to bring a professional team to Phoenix, I gather.”

      “Sounds bizarre to me. Jai alai’s a big betting game in Florida, right? Those big high stadiums—frontons, I think they’re called.”

      “I guess. This is just an office. They hold meetings and making fund-raising calls…. This is Free Arts,” she said, nodding at the space next door. Two heavily tattooed boys in muscle shirts were airbrushing a Virgen de Guadalupe onto the window. She recognized one of them. “Nice work, Rafael.”

      He turned, puzzled. “You know me?”

      “I saw your b-boy crew perform for Cinco de Mayo. You organized the group, right?”

      “Yeah.” He nodded, pleased, but acting cool about it.

      “Tell your guys there’s a gig here the day after Thanksgiving. We can’t pay, but there will be tons of people in the mall that day.”

      “’Scool.” Rafael strutted a little, then turned back to his work. His friend hissed out, “dawg” to embarrass him for talking to the gringa mujer.

      “What’s rent on that space?” Chase asked as they walked on.

      “It’s a token amount since that’s a difficult section to keep tenants in. It’s part of our effort to support the community. Starlight Desert is a good neighbor.”

      “I noticed a lot of For Sale signs driving here. Lots of boarded-up shops. Is the neighborhood going down?”

      “There have been a few problems, but nothing that has affected us. People love Starlight Desert.”

      “You love Starlight Desert, Sylvie. Everyone else just shops here. A mall is where you spend money or get a smoothie to escape the summer heat. People aren’t that loyal.”

      She felt a stab of outrage. “You haven’t been here long enough to know. Read our surveys and the consultant’s report, talk to our tenants. You’ll see I’m right.”

      The man who had stolen her job was trash-talking the place she loved. She would just have to give him the full picture right this minute.

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