A Mum for Christmas

He signaled to one of the floorwalkers, a pleasant young man dressed in a red vest and bow tie. “Follow this gentleman,” Matt announced, “and he’ll hand out the gifts. Meanwhile, Mrs. Claus will take a short break. She’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

Sherrie felt a quiver in the region of her stomach. She followed Matt as he threaded his way through the crowd, and rehearsed her defense. He said nothing as led her into his office, but seated himself at his desk and waited for her to stand in front of him.

She felt a spark of resentment when she saw the reprimand in his expression. He was beginning to make her feel like a second-grader hauled up in front of the principal.

“Perhaps, Miss Latimer,” he said, his voice heavy with exasperation, “you would be kind enough to explain why you felt it necessary to manhandle one of my valued customers?”

Sherrie lifted her chin. “That valued customer was about to demolish Donna. I felt it necessary to remove the child from the platform to prevent serious damage to the merchandise.”

He stared at her for so long she wondered if he’d understood what she’d said. Finally he cleared his throat. “I’m almost afraid to ask,” he said, clasping his hands as if in prayer, “but who the devil is Donna?”

“Blitzen’s partner, of course.”

He looked at her blankly.

“You know,” Sherrie said, allowing a tiny note of impatience to enter her voice. “Donna and Blitzen. Santa’s reindeer?”

He still looked at her as if she’d suddenly appeared from outer space.

She placed her hands on the desk, leaned forward and pronounced each word as if she were translating a foreign language. “You have two reindeer in your Christmas display. I call them Donna and Blitzen. Had I not removed that brat from the platform, Blitzen would have been looking for a new mate.”

A look of apprehension slowly dawned on Matt’s face. “I see,” he said weakly.

Sensing that she was getting through to him at last, she straightened up. “I didn’t hurt the child. He was out of control, and upsetting the other children. I did what I thought was necessary to restore the peace.”

Matt nodded. “I sympathize with your predicament, Miss Latimer. It might have been more prudent, however, to have let the child’s mother deal with him.”

“The child’s mother,” Sherrie said grimly, “was nowhere to be found. If she can’t be bothered to discipline the child, she must learn to accept the consequences. In my opinion, women like that shouldn’t have children if they can’t accept the responsibility.”

She got the feeling she might have said too much as Matt’s face darkened. “That’s beside the point. We have to remember that our customers are the reason we are in business. Without them, we would not have a Blanchard’s Department Store.”

“Yes, but—”

“In situations like this,” Matt went on firmly, “we must hold on to our temper and do our utmost to soothe ruffled feathers. Throwing the child off the platform was not the best way to handle things, no matter how much he might have deserved it. I must ask you to use more restraint in the future, if you want to keep your job.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him where to stuff his job. “I was hired to talk to the children and listen to their Christmas wishes,” she said stiffly. “I did not expect to act as nursemaid, baby-sitter or disciplinarian, nor did I expect to be subjected to harassment, ridicule or abuse, all of which has been directed at me in the past two days.”

Matt sighed, and leaned back in his chair. “I had an idea the job might be too much for you. If you remember, I did warn you that it was a tough job for a woman. Perhaps I could rustle up a couple of elves to help out.”

“In my opinion, Mr. Blanchard, this would be a tough job for that marine sergeant you were looking for.” She puffed out her breath. She had promised Tom she would do this job. She would do her best to see it through for his sake, certainly not for the stuffed shirt who sat glowering at her across his too-tidy desk.

Softening her tone with difficulty, she added, “That doesn’t mean I can’t handle it. There’s no need to hire elves. I apologize for losing my patience. I can assure you, it won’t happen again.”

She waited while he sat in silence, apparently torn by indecision. Miserably she wondered how she was going to explain to Tom that she botched the job after less than two days.

She jumped when Matthew Blanchard suddenly looked up. His eyes looked very blue, and very direct. “Miss Latimer,” he said quietly, “everyone around here calls me Matt. I would appreciate it if you would do the same.”

She could feel tiny ripples of awareness course down her back. For some reason she really wished she was wearing something other than the frumpy Mrs. Claus costume. She had the distinct feeling that when she spoke, her voice would sound about an octave too high. “Does that mean I’m still Mrs. Claus?”

Matt sighed, as if he had just made an earth-shattering decision. “If you’re really sure you want to be harassed and abused for the next month, the job is still yours.”

He didn’t have to sound quite so enthusiastic about it, Sherrie thought gloomily. If he knew how tough it had been for her to step down and apologize, he wouldn’t be nearly so condescending. “I’ll manage,” she said, her voice deceptively meek. “Thank you, Mr. Blanchard.”

“Matt,” he reminded her.

Again she felt the shiver of pleasure down her spine. How, she wondered, could he possibly have this effect on her, when she found him so infuriating?

“I think I’d find it easier to call you Matt,” she said carefully, “if you’d stop calling me Miss Latimer.”

He didn’t quite smile, but she had the feeling that one lurked behind the firm line of his mouth. The thought made the ripples travel faster.

“I’ll do my best,” he murmured. “Now, as long as we’ve got that settled, you’d better get back to your chair. There’s probably a hundred kids waiting for you by now.”

“God, I hope not,” Sherrie murmured fervently. “By the time Christmas gets here I might not be needing the gray hair. I’ll have enough of my own.”

She thought she heard him chuckle as she closed the door behind her but she couldn’t be sure. She only knew that she would give anything to hear Matthew Blanchard laugh out loud, and to be the one who caused it.

The sooner she started work on her quest for Lucy’s mother, the better, she told herself as she walked through the department store. Matthew Blanchard did strange things to her senses.

If he wasn’t quite so pompous and patronizing, she might even be tempted to forget her convictions about men in general. And that would be a disastrous mistake. Horrified with her treacherous mind, she hurried back to her seat in the Christmas display.

All that afternoon, when she wasn’t chatting to the children, Sherrie racked her brains trying to come up with a suitable candidate for Lucy’s mother.

What she really needed, she decided, was more information about Matthew Blanchard. Since he would be a primary factor in the success of her plan, she needed to know what kind of woman might appeal to him.

The line of children had abated and her shift was almost over when Sherrie saw her impervious boss heading in her direction with Lucy in tow. Apparently his daughter was checking up on her request.

Sherrie smiled when the serious little girl climbed onto her lap. The child looked enchanting in a pleated red tartan skirt worn over white tights. The ensemble was completed with a white sweater, decorated with an appliquéd black Scottish terrier. Someone knew how to dress a child, Sherrie thought as she settled the child into the crook of her arm.

“Hello, Lucy,” she said, “It’s very nice to see you again.”

Lucy glanced over at her father, who stood a few feet away, watching his daughter with a worried expression on his face. After a moment’s hesitation, Matt stepped up to the platform and said in an urgent voice, “It’s pretty quiet out here now. Could you keep an eye on her for a few minutes? I have an important call to make.”

Sherrie nodded, wondering what could be important enough to make him leave his daughter in her charge. Considering his opinion of her capabilities, she thought sourly, he was taking quite a chance.

“Did you find a mommy yet?” Lucy asked, after her father strode away.

Sherrie shook her head, hating the disappointment it caused in the child’s big blue eyes. “I haven’t had much time to look around yet, sweetheart. We are looking for a very special lady, here.”

Lucy dug her hands into her lap. “We just want someone to love us,” she said, in a small voice.

“I know, honey, and I will find that special lady, I promise. But it might take me a little while.”

“Will you find her before Christmas?”

“I’ll do my best,” Sherrie said warily, “but I can’t really promise. It might take me longer than that. You want to be sure we have the right mommy, don’t you?”

Lucy nodded. She was silent for a moment or two, then looked earnestly up at Sherrie. “We need a mommy to cook the dinner for Christmas.”

“You do?” Sherry smiled. “Who usually cooks your dinner?”

“Mrs. Halloway. She lives in our house and cooks the dinner for us.”

Mrs. Halloway was most likely the person who had dressed Lucy in that adorable outfit. Sherrie felt a small twinge of anxiety. Had Matt already chosen his next wife? If so, Lucy obviously wasn’t happy about it. “Well, I’m sure Mrs. Halloway can cook you a lovely Christmas dinner,” she said carefully. “Just like a mommy.”

Lucy shook her head so hard her curls bounced. “Mrs. Halloway is too old to be a mommy. She just cleans the house and cooks for us.”

The housekeeper, Sherrie decided, with a rush of relief. “Well, I’m sure she’ll be happy to cook you a nice dinner for Christmas.”

“She had to go away,” Lucy said, her gaze shifting to the dazzling Christmas tree behind the chair. “She won’t be here for Christmas.”

Now Sherrie could understand the haunted look on Matt’s face. “Is she coming back?” she asked, wondering how Matt was going to manage to take care of the little girl without his housekeeper.

“I dunno.” Lucy pointed at the tree. “Who are the presents for?”

“All the children who’ve been especially good,” Sherrie murmured absently. “Don’t you have an auntie who can cook for you?”

Lucy shook her head.

“Perhaps Daddy has a nice friend who can take care of you.”

Again the blond curls bounced to and fro. “Daddy doesn’t have any friends.”

Daddy’s private life was obviously lacking, Sherrie thought, wondering just how antisocial Matthew Blanchard could be.

“Can you cook dinner?”

The question took Sherrie by surprise. She laughed, and gave the little girl a warm hug. “Of course I can cook. Santa would be very unhappy if he couldn’t enjoy his Christmas dinner.”

“Can you make pancakes and bacon? And basketty?”

Sherrie raised her eyebrows. “Basketty?”

“You know, those long squiggly things. Mrs. Halloway puts them on a plate an…an…pours red stuff over.”

“Spaghetti?” Sherrie suggested, hazarding a guess.

“Yes,” Lucy said impatiently. “That’s what I said. Basketty.”

“I can cook basketty,” Sherie said solemnly. “And hamburgers and meat loaf and chocolate cream pie.”

“I wish you could come and cook for us,” Lucy said, her voice wistful.

Sherrie stared at the little girl. That wasn’t such a bad idea. That way she would be right inside the lion’s den, so to speak. The perfect place to learn more about Matthew Blanchard. It would be that much easier to introduce him to someone, if she could invite them to his home. Not only that, she wouldn’t have to go back to Tom’s dreadfully lonely apartment every night.

Of course, she told herself, it would only be temporary, until she found someone suitable for Lucy. In the meantime she could take her time looking around for a new apartment.

In the next instant, she gave herself a mental shake. What on earth was she thinking? First of all, after that fiasco with Henry the Hellion, Matt wasn’t likely to trust his daughter to her care full-time. Secondly, she was working at the store until Christmas. She couldn’t be in two places at once.

What worried her the most was the excitement she’d felt at the thought of being in the same house as Matthew Blanchard. That was dangerous, and she had better stop this nonsense right away, she told herself.

Not only was Matt way out of her league, but she was also not about to risk having her heart broken again. Not by anyone. Certainly not by a sophisticated, experienced charmer like Matthew Blanchard.

For although he had bent over backward to convince her otherwise, she was quite sure that under the right circumstances, her new boss would be the ultimate in experienced charmers once he set his mind to it. And, much to her dismay, that prospect excited her most of all.

Chapter Three

Upstairs in his office, Matt threaded his fingers through his hair. Five phone calls, and nothing. There just wasn’t anyone out there who was willing to take on the job of a temporary live-in housekeeper. What the hell was he going to do?

He sat there for a moment or two, trying to stem the feeling of panic. He’d have to opt for a baby-sitter, and try to manage the rest himself. Somehow they’d survive until Mrs. Halloway’s emergency was over. If she didn’t return by Christmas, he’d just have to take Lucy to a restaurant for dinner. The prospect was a gloomy one.

With a start he glanced at the clock. He’d left Lucy down there with Mrs. Claus long enough.

His daughter was still sitting where he’d left her, he discovered when he reached the fifth floor. She looked quite at home in Mrs. Claus’s small lap. In fact, something curled inside him when he saw her look up at Sherrie with a big smile spreading over her face.

He hadn’t seen Lucy smile like that in a long, long time.

He watched the two of them together for a few moments, touched by the earnest way they were chatting to each other. Lucy had certainly taken to Mrs. Claus. If the rest of the children were as happy with her, this could be the best season yet at Blanchard’s.

That had been a brilliant idea of Sherrie Latimer’s. He must remember to tell her so when she left. Again that small pang of regret attacked his midriff. Frowning, he shook off the moment of melancholy and strode toward the display.

Lucy’s face lit up when she saw her father, and she held out her arms to him.

“Thanks, Mrs. Claus,” Matt said gruffly as he scooped his daughter up in his arms. “I appreciate you staying on to watch her for me.”

“I enjoyed it,” Sherrie said, smiling at him.

For a moment Matt basked in that smile. Now that he knew what she looked like under all that padding, his imagination filled in what he couldn’t see. Annoyed with himself for letting his mind stray in that dangerous direction, he gave her a brief nod. “Well, have a good evening. See you tomorrow.”

Sherrie watched him leave, Lucy still in his arms. For some reason she felt unutterably lonely. The day was over and she had nothing better to do than go back to that bleak apartment. As well as shop for groceries, she reminded herself as she made her way back to the employees’ lounge. Not to mention washing her dress when she got home.

A familiar face greeted her when she entered the lounge.

“Hi, Mrs. Claus,” Beryl Robbins said cheerfully. “Survived another day, I see.”

Sherrie laughed. “I think I’m growing into the part. My back is permanently bowed and my hair is turning white.”

Beryl made a face. “I know what you mean. It’s been one of those days. I broke two nails, lost a shipment of Christmas tree ornaments somewhere and Matt got on my case about some kid terrorizing the toy department with one of our bestselling items. I had to pull them all off the shelf. Thank God it’s time to go home.”

Sherrie studied the woman thoughtfully. She’d offered to answer any questions Sherrie might have. How forthcoming would she be about her boss? Sherrie wondered.

Deciding to find out, she said casually, “I’m going to stop off for a coffee on my way home. If you’re not in a hurry, would you care to join me?”

Beryl reached for a brilliant red coat on the coat stand. “Make it an espresso and you’ve got a deal.”

Sherrie grinned. “Just give me time to get out of these clothes and I’ll be with you.”

The coffee bar was noisy, warm and infinitely better than the empty apartment. Sherrie chose a corner table by the window and waited for her companion to get settled before tackling the subject.

After asking a few questions about the store in general, she slipped in the casual comment. “I met Mr. Blanchard’s daughter, Lucy. She seems such a lonely little girl.”

Beryl sighed. “I know. It’s such a shame. I’m not sure what happened, but as far as I can make out, Matt caught his wife cheating on him and dumped her when Lucy was a year old.”

Sherrie stared at her in dismay. “He dumped Lucy’s mother?”

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. She was a lot younger than Matt, still a kid herself, really. I heard that she got bored with sitting home alone with a baby while Matt was working. She started going out without him, leaving Lucy with a baby-sitter. She must have been no-good, since Matt got custody.”

“Poor Lucy,” Sherrie murmured. “Though it must be hard on her father, too. I don’t suppose he has much time to himself, with a daughter to look after.”

“He has a housekeeper who helps take care of Lucy.” Beryl took a sip of coffee. “Not that he’s much of a party animal. I think he gets out to his health club a couple of times a week. Matt is a strong believer in keeping fit. He tried to start an exercise session at the store, but everyone dropped out after the first week or two. Matt’s a tough instructor.”

She could just imagine, Sherrie thought, remembering the broad shoulders and narrow hips of her boss. It took discipline to look that good. She sat up straight, almost spilling her coffee. She had the perfect candidate after all—Elaine Maitland.

Elaine was a secretary at Conway Pharmaceuticals. She was also a fitness freak, not to mention bright, intelligent and attractive. She had made Sherrie feel tired at times, relating her adventures on the ski slopes, the tennis courts and the golf courses, as well as her stints as swim coach for the local grade school and aerobics instructor in her spare time.

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