Love Finds You in North Pole, Alaska (8 page)

Sam couldn’t help snickering at the notion. “Please,” she said, waving the idea away. “He barely tolerates me. The man is way too
marine
to go for the likes of me.”

Bryce’s aunt went back to stacking one-dollar bills in the cash drawer. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, you know…he’s Mr. By-the-Book. A real straight arrow. And me?” A giggle escaped her as she drew quotation marks in the air. “I’ve never even seen ‘The Book.’ ” Sam sighed.

“Let me get this straight…are you implying you–you’re
interested
in Bryce?”

The question caught Sam by surprise. She hadn’t given any thought to how she felt about him. At least, not consciously.
Oh, who are you kidding
? she asked herself.

Olive stood quietly, waiting for an answer. But Sam couldn’t very well admit that the thought of seeing Bryce in the shop was the reason she’d started wearing mascara again, the reason she started every day with a smile, now could she? Or that images of him, flitting through her head all night, were responsible for each of a hundred romantic dreams? “What eligible woman
wouldn’t
be interested?” she said, hoping to throw Olive off course, at least a little. “I mean, what’s not to like? He’s tall and handsome, intelligent, and…and he can be downright funny, when he puts his mind to it…which, admittedly, isn’t nearly often enough, because he’s positively
gor
geous when he smiles.” Sam was rambling and knew it, but she seemed powerless to stop now that she’d started. “Believe it or not,” she continued, “I admire his ‘do the right thing’ attitude. But that’s the very reason
he’ll
never be interested in
me
.”

The woman shook her head. “Give an old lady her due, will ya? I’ve known that boy since before he was born. Believe you me, girl, he’s interested, all right.”

Sam’s heartbeat doubled at the possibility. “Y’think?” She didn’t even try to hide her delight, which no doubt was already painted all over her hot-cheeked face.

“I don’t
think
,” Olive said. “I
know
.” She waved Sam closer then said in hushed tones, “I’ve seen him in love before—or when he thought he was in love, anyway. The way he looks at you?” Olive laughed. “Oh, honey child, if he looked at any of the so-called eligible females you just referred to the way he looks at you? He’d have to beat them off with a giant candy cane!”

The clocks in the shop chose that moment to announce the nine o’clock hour. “Oh my goodness, I have to run or I’ll be late. Will you be okay here by yourself for an hour or so?”

“’Course I will. I’ve spent the past half-dozen years here all by myself.” Olive narrowed one eye. “But…where are
you
off to in such a hurry?”

“Got a call from Dan Brooks this morning,” Sam explained, grabbing her purse. “Didn’t say why he wanted to see me, just that I should meet him at Dalman’s Restaurant at nine fifteen.”

“You watch your p’s and q’s with that one, Sammie-girl. He never does anything nice without a self-serving motive.”

Olive had said something similar not long ago, and the repeated warning set Sam’s teeth on edge. “Oh, he probably just wants to apologize for reneging on our employment agreement.”

“After all these weeks?” Olive harrumphed. “No way. He’s got something up his crooked sleeve.”

She made a good point. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. Besides, it’s only breakfast.” Sam opened the door a crack. “Need anything while I’m out?”

“Just your promise that you won’t fall for any of his tricks.” The hard glint in Olive’s eyes made it clear just how serious she was.

“I’m not as naive as I look, you know,” Sam said, smiling. “I’ll be fine, just fine.”

“From your lips to God’s ears.”

Heart hammering, Sam stepped outside, and as the bells above the door jingled, she prayed,
Lord, don’t let me do or say anything stupid with this guy, okay
?

She repeated the prayer all the way from Rudolph’s to Dalman’s, echoing
please, please, please
with every step. Sam had been so focused on the toes of her shoes that a deep voice made her leap six inches into the air.

“I sure hope you’re Sam Sinclair,” it said.

One hand to her chest, she took a deep breath. “Yes, I am.” Extending a hand, she added, “And you must be Mr. Brooks.”

“Dan, please,” he corrected. “Mr. Brooks is my father.”

Built like a linebacker, Dan cast a huge shadow. Sunlight shimmered from his shining blond locks as he took her hand in his. “I’m so glad that slave driver you work for let you take time to meet me.”

“Olive? Oh, she’s a sweetheart. Very easy to work with,” Sam said, smiling.

Slanting green eyes narrowed. “I think you know that I was referring to Bryce Stone.” Then, “He hasn’t sold that miserable excuse for a gift shop, has he?”

Sam tugged to free her hand. Though she already had a bad feeling about this guy, she decided to be fair. It was way too soon to make a judgment call about his character. “It’s a wonderful store,” she said, lifting her chin. “We’re doing a very robust business.”

A wide smile threatened to split his face in two. “Once you get to know me, Sam, you’ll realize I have a very wacky sense of humor.” He held up a hand, traffic cop style. “I meant no offense, honest.” He held open the door then bowed low, and with a grand sweep of his arm, invited Sam into the restaurant. “After you, m’lady.”

Once inside, Dan took charge as if he owned the place. “We’ll take that table by the windows,” he told the hostess. “And we’d like to order right away.” Without waiting to hear if that was acceptable or not, he placed his hand on the small of Sam’s back and gently guided her forward.

When the waitress showed him the menu, Dan waved it away. “We’ll each have two eggs over easy, with a side of hash browns and biscuits with country gravy. Wheat toast, too, lightly buttered, a small tomato juice, and coffee.” He stretched his neck to peer at her tablet. “Got all that?”

The girl tucked her pencil behind her ear and said, “Yes, sir, Mr. Brooks,” before hurrying away. Sam stared in amazement, trying to remember the last time anyone had ordered a meal for her. Joey had tried it on one of their first dates, and she would have liked nothing better than to tell Dan what she’d told Joey that day: “I have a mind—and tastes—of my own, thank you.” Sam didn’t know whether it was a good thing or a bad omen that he’d asked the waitress to bring all of her breakfast favorites.

“So tell me,” he said, leaning forward, “how do you like North Pole so far?”

Finally, she thought, something pleasant to talk about! “I love it! Almost from the start, it felt like home.”

“Almost?”

Sam leaned back and crossed both arms over her chest. “Well, I had a very bad experience on my first day here…when I showed up, employment contract in hand, only to discover the job I’d been promised had been given to someone else.”

Dan lifted both shoulders in a silent shrug. She sat quietly, fully expecting him to explain that his poor nephew needed the job for any one of a dozen excellent reasons. But no such explanation came. Instead, he slid his cell phone from his shirt pocket and squinted as he punched numbers on its minuscule keyboard. Holding one finger aloft, he winked. “This’ll only take a minute, hon,” he whispered.

Hon
? The word made her a little homesick for Baltimore. But how had
Dan
known that the term was as commonplace in Charm City as “Christmas” was in North Pole?

“Sorry about that,” he said, grinning as he snapped the phone shut. “Didn’t want anything to interrupt our meal, so I’ve left instructions with my secretary that we not be disturbed.”

They’d been here ten minutes already, and so far all they’d shared was small talk
.
“So, Dan, why are we here?”

“Whoa,” he said, laughing, “you don’t believe in beating around the bush, do you?”

“As my father is so fond of saying, ‘It’s a waste of time and unnecessarily hard on the shrubbery.’ ” It was all Sam could do to keep from holding her breath as she hoped her father’s
other
favorite saying, “Curiosity kills the cat,” wasn’t true.

“The truth?”

“That’d be nice….”

“Edmunds said you were a looker. I wanted to see for myself.”

Sam could hardly believe her ears. “For real?”

Another shrug.

“You could have done that without the price of breakfast,” she pointed out, “if you’d just walked past Rudolph’s and peeked into the window.”

He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table. “I never do anything from a distance that I can do up close and personal.” His smile warmed the space between them. “And I’d pay a hundred times the cost of this meal to get up close and personal to
you
. You’re not just a looker. You’re positively stunning.”

Sam wished the waitress would arrive with coffee or juice or water. Anything to occupy her hands so she’d have something to focus on besides Dan’s bright green eyes.

“I hear you’re from the Baltimore suburbs?”

Nodding, she said, “Ellicott City, to be exact.”

“Never been, but if all the girls there are as pretty as you, maybe I should book a trip to Maryland.”

Oh, he was a charmer, all right. But Sam refused to allow his flattery to distract her. “Surely there was a better reason for a busy and important man like yourself to arrange this meeting than merely looking at me.”

“Samantha,” he said, slowly pronouncing every syllable, “there’s nothing
mere
about you.”

Years ago, one of her college roommates had dated her brother Bill and said afterward, “Oh, he’s smooth, that brother of yours.
Smooth
.” At the time, Sam hadn’t understood what Anna meant and, unwilling to admit her naiveté, had kept the question to herself. She understood now, though, and couldn’t help feeling a bit surprised that her silly, roughhousing brother had developed a talent for putting Dan’s type of move on unsuspecting girls. No wonder he’d never had a steady girlfriend, she thought, smiling to herself.

Dan must have misread her amusement and thought she’d fallen like a tree in the woods for his line, because he reached for her hand. “Have you ever been to Paris?”

She retrieved her hand. “As a matter of fact, I have.” Though she’d only known him a few minutes, Sam could see that her answer had surprised him, as evidenced by his slightly parted lips, big staring eyes…and uncharacteristic silence. “I spent a year there during college, earning my BA in culinary arts.” Would he remember, she wondered, that she’d included that bit of information on her résumé? Had he even bothered to
read
her résumé?

“I’d love to see you in the City of Light,” Dan said. “We could be there in six hours, you know, on my private jet.”

“Whoa,” she said, borrowing his earlier quote, “you don’t believe in beating around the bush, either, do you?”

The waitress showed up before he could respond and began doling out their breakfasts. “Cream for your coffee?” she asked.

“None for me,” Dan said as Sam replied, “Yes, please.”

He flapped a napkin across his lap. “Seems we’ve finally found something we don’t have in common.”

“Oh,” said a deep resonant voice, “I’m sure in time you’ll find there are hundreds, even thousands of things you two
don’t
have in common.”

“Well, as I live and breathe,” Dan said. “If it isn’t Bryce Stone, in the flesh.” He got to his feet and held out his hand.

Sam noticed that Bryce hesitated before taking it and then remembered something Olive had said about these two being rivals since high school. At the time, she hadn’t felt it was her place to ask why, but now Sam wished that she
had
. “Won’t you join us?” she said, scooting over to make room for Bryce. “There’s more here than I could possibly eat all by myself. I hate wasting food, so you’d be doing me a favor, helping me—”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He slid her coffee cup over as he sat down. Bryce was smiling, but the edgy expression on his face didn’t escape Sam’s notice.

“I had no idea you guys were an item,” Bryce said, signaling the waitress.

Sam gasped. “We’re
not
an item!” she corrected. “I only just met him ten minutes ago. He’s the one who called this morning when we were in the kitchen, remember? You left before I could tell you who it was.”

One brow rose on Dan’s forehead. “In the kitchen this morning, eh?” Chuckling, he added, “Maybe it’s
you
two who are the item.”

I wish
, Sam thought as Bryce said, “She manages Rudolph’s for me.” He met her gaze. “And she’s doing a great job.” Facing Dan, he said, “Big mistake, my friend, choosing your nephew over this one. She’s a real go-getter.”

“Actually, Dan arranged this little meeting to apologize for that very snafu,” Sam said. “Isn’t that right,
Dan
?”

Frowning, he buttered his toast. “I’m hoping to make it up to her by flying her to France for dinner at
Le Ciel de Paris
.”

Bryce turned toward Sam. “Is that the one way up on some building, where you can see the Eiffel Tower and stuff…?”

Nodding, she said, “I’ve never eaten there, but I hear the view
is
spectacular. They say you can see for miles.”

“So you’re going then?” Bryce asked.

Sam giggled. “Of course not!”

“Your breakfast is getting cold,” he said, using her fork to spear a bite of hash browns and holding it near her lips.

Like an obedient child, Sam opened her mouth and ate it, though she didn’t know what in the world had inspired Bryce to do such a thing.
Was
he interested in her, as Olive had suggested? Or did he just want Dan to
think
that he was, as part of their age-old rivalry?

Dan took a call on his cell phone and, forefinger in the air, mouthed, “I’ll just be a minute,” before walking toward the lobby.

“I wouldn’t put it past him to duck outta here,” Bryce said, grinning, “and stick us with the tab.”

Sam didn’t intend to let him off the hook that easily. “I don’t appreciate being a pawn in your ‘Get Even with Dan Brooks’ game,” she whispered.

Bryce turned slightly on the bench seat. “
What?”

But Dan returned before she could explain. A very good thing, Sam decided, judging by the irritation on Bryce’s face.