a string bean of a man, eyeballed his boss and then nodded. “When are you leaving?”
“In the morning. Bring the dog to the office and I’ll take off from here. You guys sure you can handle things?”
“Yes, Dad,” the little group said in unison.
“Swear you won’t call us a hundred times a day,” Derek said.
“I don’t think you have to worry about that. Okay, it’s all set then. Hillary, cancel the rest of my appointments. Reschedule.”
Gus looked around at his loyal staff. A lump formed in his throat. They were the best of the best. He made a mental note to double their Christmas bonuses. He could do that tonight at home and hand them out in the morning. Loyalty was one thing he never skimped on. A long time ago his mother had told him a person was only as good as the people who worked for them. At the time he hadn’t understood what that meant. He knew now, though.
Time to go cross-country.
Back to his childhood memories.
Back to his father’s house.
He hoped he was up to the challenge.
Chapter Two
A week later and three thousand miles away in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, thirty-four-year-old career woman Amy Baran was on an emotional high as she packed her already overstuffed briefcase. She looked around her cluttered office and sighed. One of these days she really had to give some thought to organizing things. She knew it wasn’t going to happen because she loved living in clutter, loved that she could instantly lay her hands on anything she needed.
Amy Baran owned a small public relations firm in the heart of the Main Line District. It employed two full-time staff members; two part-time moms whose schedules she worked around; a receptionist-slash-secretary; and a battle-scarred, bushy-haired orange tabby cat named Cornelia she had found half-starved in the basement of the building she rented. If anyone reigned supreme at the Baran Agency, it was Cornelia who greeted clients by purring and strutting her stuff.
Cornelia knew how to turn on the computer, flush the john, and even open the box of Tender Vittles when someone left it sitting on the kitchen counter.
“You going to miss me, Linda?”
“Does Cornelia need whipped cream on her catnip? Of course I’m going to miss you. That was a silly question, Amy. But things slow down at this time of year and you’re only a cell phone call away. You said your mom has a fax machine so I think we’re good to go in case something crops up. In a way, I envy you. Going home for the holidays is always kind of special and going all out on your mom’s project to help the Seniors is the icing on top as far as good feelings go. If anyone can make it work, you can.”
Amy flopped down on her swivel chair, her long legs stretched out in front of her. “Easy to say, Linda. Mapping out a PR campaign to sell cosmetics or corn flakes is a lot different from selling Christmas trees. I know zip about Christmas trees other than you put them in a stand, string lights and ornaments and flick the switch. Instant gratification.”
“You got a plan, boss?”
Amy laughed, the sound ricocheting off the walls. “Sort of, kind of. I’m thinking three tents. One for the stuff Mom wants to sell. You know, ornaments, lights, gift wrap, the big red velvet bows. I ordered tons of stuff a week ago when Mom hit me with this. I jumped right on it. Mom’s got the Seniors lined up to work the store, as she calls it. They’re going to be serving gingerbread and hot mulled cider the way they used to do at Moss Farms. I told you about that wonderful place from my childhood. I hate it that Mr. Moss let the farm go to ruin. I have such nice memories of going out there with my father. He always made it a special event. One year it actually snowed the day we went to pick up the tree. I was so excited I could hardly sleep the night before. Memories are wonderful, aren’t they?”
Linda flicked the long braid that hung down to the middle of her back. “Memories are super as long as you don’t dwell on them. Maybe you’ll meet Prince Charming when you go home. I see it now: he appears out of nowhere, asks you to help him pick out the perfect tree. You do, and then he asks you to deliver it and help him set it up. You agree. You fall into his arms in front of the tree and voila, you now have a boyfriend!”
“In your dreams! I don’t have time for boyfriends. I’m trying to build this business and working sixteen hours a day is more than any guy can understand. All in good time.”
Linda eyed her boss. She would never understand how someone as personable, as pretty, as intelligent as Amy didn’t have men falling all over her. “Your clock is ticking, Amy. There’s more to life than building a business.”
Amy sniffed as she fiddled with the comb that controlled her long, dark, curly hair. She fixed her green eyes on Linda and said, “You’re a year older and I don’t see you in any hurry to settle down.”
“Yeah, well, at least I have a prospect. George loves me and would marry me in a heartbeat if I said the word. I’m thinking about it. I want us to have enough money saved up to put a down payment on a house. There’s no way I’m going to live in an apartment with kids. I want lots of kids and so does George. By next year we’ll have saved enough for a starter house. It’s my plan. You don’t even have a prospect, much less a plan, Amy.”
Linda was right even though she didn’t want to admit it. She longed for Mr. Right but so far he had eluded her. Maybe Linda was right and she needed to cut back on the hours she worked and get some kind of personal life. Or she could go to the Internet and sign up on one of those matchmaking sites. Like that was really going to happen.
Amy shrugged as she continued to stuff her briefcase. She had to sit on it so she could lock it. “I don’t know why I’m taking all this. Better to be prepared for anything and everything. Okay, okay, I’ll work on my social skills and try to snag a guy when I get home. You realize single guys do not buy Christmas trees. They buy artificial ones. Families, moms and dads and kids, buy trees. Having said that, I will do my best to find a man who will meet with your approval. If I come back empty handed, I will explore one of those dating sites, okay?”
“Yeah. Look, if you need me, give me a call. I can take the train and be there in three hours. I’m going to miss Corny,” Linda said as she scooped up the tabby to settle her in the carryall. She pulled the zipper.
Amy took a last look around. “It feels right, Linda. Going home, I mean. I hate leaving you for two whole months but like you said, I’m just a phone call away. You don’t think I’m making a mistake, do you?”
“Am I hearing right? The famous Amy Baran is asking me if she’s making a mistake? The short answer is, no. Look, my mom passed away. I’d drop everything, even George, to have her back calling me to help out. You always have to give back, Amy. If you don’t, you’re just a shell of a person. I expect you to be an authority on Christmas trees when you get back. I can go on the Net and research Christmas tree farms and send out some query letters asking if they want to use our services next year. That’s assuming you pull this off and raise the money you need.”
You don’t know my mother, Linda. “Good idea. You know what bothers me the most is the trucking fees. We’re starting out in debt. I don’t like that. If bad weather sets in, the trees might not be cut in time. I’m at growers’ and truckers’ mercies. Mom did all the initial contacting. I wish she had left it up to me instead of going with the first person she contacted. You need
