“Did you see what Sarah Masters is doing at her store today?”
Hearing her name snapped me back to reality and made my heart pound just a bit harder.
“She's pulling out all the stops. A face-painting table, DJ, free hot dogs,” he continued. “I hear she's even having some guy show up to play Santa at noon. Guess she must be getting desperate, what with Slicker Image poaching all the customers.”
My blood boiled. Used to be that I'd laugh along with him – Sarah was an easy target to tease, and I considered it an honor to get a rise out of her.
Not so much anymore.
“She's not desperate,” I growled, knocking him into the shelf as I walked past. “She's a damn smart woman. I'd appreciate it if you didn't say nasty things about her anymore, since she's my fiancee and all.”
He brightened. “You mean you actually found a woman willing to marry you in a month? See what I mean about all the girls just throwing themselves at you.”
“Quiet. You should just be grateful you'll get to keep your job.” I spoke softly so the nosy teenage cashier behind the counter didn't hear. “I hope to God you haven't told a soul about this.”
He rested a hand over his chest. “No way. I know how to keep my mouth shut, and everyone in the store knows how stupid it'd be to cross Asher Carrington.”
Part of that reputation had been inherited from my dad. Some of these employees had been here for over a decade, back when he ran the place with his trademark iron fist.
“Anyway, I gotta get back to stocking this junk, unless you want to do it for me.”
“That's what I pay you for. And remember, if I hear even one more hum or whistle out of you...”
“Such a Scrooge,” he muttered.
I left him to his work and took my hourly stroll around the store. At the front, the cheerful beeps of cash registers was music to my ears. Every register had a line ten people deep, their shopping carts full of high-priced goodies.
How dare dad say I didn't deserve this place? All the advertising, product placement, sales, and brand appeal were because of me. I practically built this thing from the ground up, and now he was going to just rip it away from me?
A couple walked by with their purchases. I happened to overhear a snippet of their conversation.
“I can't believe they're seriously building a mall here,” twittered the woman. “And it's going to be so big!”
The man rolled his eyes. “All you need is another outfit or pair of shoes.”
Wait a minute. How did they know about the mall? Had Ken lied to me about running his mouth?
Carrie, one of my younger cashiers, was on break. She stood by the clock and stared at me while fiddling with her glasses.
“I think I saw your father outside, Mr. Carrington,” she squeaked. “Uh, is it true there will be a Galleria here soon? I mean, I guess I can get a new job there, but...”
“No, there won't be,” I said firmly. “Don't you worry about a thing. I'll take care of it.”
Just like I always did, right? Only this time, I wasn't so sure if our marital scheme was going to work.
Between that and these unnerving feelings I was developing for Sarah, I'd really never felt so powerless in my life.
Outside, it was snowing again and probably near zero degrees. When I spotted dad in the parking lot with his entourage of buddies, I stormed after him, not bothering to put on a coat.
“Yes, put it there. This entrance gets the most traffic.”
The man with him had a big sign on a wooden stake. He stuck the stake through the piles of snow and began hammering it into the ground. On the sign was a flashy picture of dad's stupid mall. “The all new Galleria, coming in 2020!” it said.
Dad stood by his side, arms folded, looking extra smug in his expensive jacket. I grabbed him and glared; he appeared to be unfazed, as was typical.
“What the hell do you think you're doing, old man?”
He gestured to the store. “Just drumming up a bit of publicity, that's all. I want to get folks around town excited for the mall's grand opening.”
“How many times have I told you there won't be a mall.”
“Hmm, is that so?” He laughed in his condescending way. “Unless you can earn yourself a Christmas miracle, I'd have to say you're mistaken. I do hope you've thought up a good 'going out of business' plan.”
Son of a bitch! If I wasn't surrounded by customers – and if Sarah wasn't spying on me from her shop – I would have punched him in the nose.
I knew she was watching me, felt her eyes on me. Confirmed it by looking and catching her staring at me through the window. She was hiding behind the snowman her cousin had painted, but even so I saw her pretty hazel eyes peeking back at me.
“What do you think, boss?” The guy with him finished his work. “Looks good, right? Just tell me where you want the next one.”
I shot him a withering stare. He cleared his throat, picked up his stack of signs, and scurried off to go hide in his truck.
“If you put another one of those signs on my property, I swear I'll pull it out and shove it up your ass,” I warned him.
“I'd say it's not wise to threaten me, son. For most people who do, it doesn't end well.” He strutted through the snow like a pompous peacock. “Anyhow, you seem to forget
