The Sweetest Hours (Harlequin Superromance) (7 page)

He was tender, his lips molded gently over hers, moving with sweetness, as if to remember her fully, too.

Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she made a little moan.

He gave her the joy of a long, passionate kiss. Mouth to mouth, honest and solid, because that’s who George was. He was just so damn sexy.

The car at the end of the drive flashed its lights at them. Once. Twice.

George cursed softly. He straightened and drew back. The warmth of his coat dropped away from Kristin.

“I will put in a good word for you at Aura.” Back to formality, his tone sounded tortured. “You can count on that.”

“I believe you,” she said.

“I’m sorry I have to go.” He looked toward the car. “Maybe someday I can tempt you away. To Scotland.” His tone was teasing, and the accent was there.

She smiled at him. Maybe if she were a different person, in a braver place, she would dare to follow him and kiss him again. Prolong their interlude that had felt so sweetly romantic and special.

But she wasn’t that fearless.

“Goodbye, George,” she whispered, touching his hand one last time.

“Kristin?” His voice caught.

“Yes?”

“I hope you find your castle.”

And then he was off, into the winter night, the snow swirling quietly in the lamplight.

CHAPTER FOUR

D
URING
THE
NEXT
six weeks, Kristin heard nothing from George Smith.

She returned to work the Monday after he left, expecting questions about her time spent with him, but most of the office was busy celebrating the news of Andrew’s firstborn daughter. In the excitement, no one remembered to ask Kristin anything about what had happened on Saturday.

She sat at her computer and checked her company email, but found no messages from George—not even about Aura Botanicals. She thought he might at least have some lingering questions about the company and its products.

Kristin felt...well, sad. Not at all relieved. Maybe even a little bit hurt.

Of course he was busy—he spent his life traveling, he’d said. And he had thanked Stephanie for dinner; he didn’t owe them anything more than that.

But, the night
had
affected her—how could it not? Even not knowing that he and Kristin had
kissed,
her family still talked about him.

George had sat congenially around their dining table, and he’d read the Robert Burns poem in the accent of his country. Even without the kiss, that alone made him more memorable than any other man she’d known.

I hope you find your castle.
He’d meant it figuratively, of course. But how did she go about doing that? She had no idea what her mythical castle even was.

Kristin signed off her email and chewed her lip. Maybe George would contact her when his report to Jay Astley was finished. That was what she hoped for.

Or maybe she would never hear from George again.

She didn’t know.... She felt so confused.

She leaned back in her chair and stared at the water-stained ceiling tiles. The night had certainly been an adventure. And to think that before George had shown up, she’d been feeling depressed with her life, traveling along in her rut of routine, longing for something to change, but every time she’d tried, getting into trouble.

Unlike George, she couldn’t just pick up and leave her hometown. She’d trapped herself here. Her rut was just something she had to figure out how to live with.

* * *

W
EEKS
LATER
,
TOWARD
the end of her shift on a bleak, drizzly Monday, Kristin’s supervisor, Dirk, poked his ponytailed head into her office. “Jay Astley has called a meeting with management. You’d better step in here, Kristin.”

The owner of her company considered her management? That was something new. Kristin perked up.

She pushed away from her desk and hurried after Dirk. Her gangly supervisor diverted his path to the coffee machine, but she followed the other managers into the conference room, the place where Laura Astley had interviewed Kristin for her job six years earlier. Kristin hadn’t been to many meetings inside the gleaming, modern plant manager’s lair since then. This was Andrew’s turf, and Andrew didn’t hold her in confidence.

Inside the sunlit space, most of the office staff were already present. The top managers had staked their places around the polished board table; the lesser supervisors lined the walls behind them. Kristin found a spot at the back of the room and squeezed in.

Dirk wedged beside her, a coffee mug in hand. “Man, Astley looks like hell,” he said to her in a low voice. “I just saw him come inside the plant with two bodyguards flanking him.”

“Bodyguards?” Kristin asked. “Why would he need that?”

“Why do you think?”

Everyone hushed as Jay Astley entered the room and took a seat. He’d seemed to have aged ten years since Kristin had last seen him. One glance at Astley’s face—pale and broken, thoroughly lacking in sleep—and she felt sorry for him. Even at Laura’s funeral he hadn’t been so stooped and withdrawn, shoulders slumped as if he carried a heavy, sad burden.

A burly man wearing a suit and security-guard expression lingered in the doorway, staring them up and down. “He looks like he’s packing heat, doesn’t he?” Dirk whispered.

She did notice a bulge on the man’s hip beneath his jacket. Kristin swallowed.

Dirk sipped his coffee.

“I don’t think this is a good thing,” she whispered back.

“Probably not.” Dirk grinned. “At least I have my DJ business to fall back on.” Behind his hand, he said to her, “I hope our severance check is sweet—I’d love to get some new amplifiers. I’m looking forward to the unemployment checks, too.”

She stared at him. “We are not getting laid off.”

“Sure we are.”

How could Dirk even
think
that? She’d never been through a layoff before, but she’d seen a movie about it with George Clooney once, and this was not the way it happened.

In the movies, George Clooney met with people one-on-one.

This...this...was a mass announcement. Something different was going on.

Jay Astley, their CEO, turned slowly, gazing from face to face, regarding even the people standing behind him, including herself. A single tear ran down his cheek.

Kristin’s jaw slackened. This was really bad.

“You’re probably wondering why I called you all here, so I’ll just get to it,” Jay said in a raspy voice that didn’t sound like his own.

It seemed to Kristin that everyone hushed and leaned forward.

“I’ve had to sell our company,” Jay said.

A collective gasp rang out. Kristin put her hand to her mouth.

“Yep,” Dirk muttered. “I was right.”

Kristin elbowed him. “Shh!”

“Without Laura, I just...can’t do it anymore.” Jay’s voice faltered and then stopped.

Kristin’s heart went out to him. This was horrible. Laura had been the heart and soul of Aura Botanicals, and it seemed she’d been her husband’s heart and soul, as well. As awful as things were for him now, Kristin couldn’t help thinking how wonderful it must’ve been to have a love as great as that.

“An outfit overseas bought the rights to Laura’s products.” Jay gripped the edge of the table, unable to look up. “In your next paycheck, there will be a bonus.” He took an audible breath. “I’m hopeful you’ll all see fit to stay with me through the end of the month. We’ll need help disassembling the machinery and moving the inventory to the new location.”

New location?

“But what about
our jobs?
” Andrew asked, putting voice to the question on everyone’s minds, judging from the nodding and murmurs. “Will the new company keep us on?”

“Andrew...” Jay began.

“Will they keep this factory open, Jay?” Andrew demanded.

Jay didn’t answer.

“You
owe
us better than this,” Andrew hissed.

Kristin clutched at her throat. If she had a knife, she could cut the tension between the two men. No one else spoke. Their plant manager had challenged their CEO, and the CEO was on the hot seat. And yet, she desperately wanted his answer, too. What
about
their jobs?

Tears rolled down Jay’s cheeks, one after another. It was excruciating to watch. Their boss was falling apart in front of everyone. This was not how it happened in the movies, either. In the movies, company owners hid in the back room or at an off-site location and let the consultants deliver the bad news. Here, their CEO faced them himself.

Kristin thought she might be sick to her stomach. Everybody present had something on the line here. This factory was the lifeblood of their community. It was the center of Kristin’s life.

“I thought...I could save the company...for Laura’s sake, I
tried.
” Jay’s loss of control was outright now. “You have to understand,” he pleaded, “this was Laura’s baby...her only baby...but now it’s losing money, and despite the recommendations, I had no choice but to sell. It’s the only chance her formulations stand of surviving....”

Oh, Laura.
Kristin blinked her eyes against the stinging she felt. She knew what it was like not to have kids or a family of your own. She’d watched Laura pour all her considerable love into her work—her balms and her lotions, her healing aromatherapies. To Kristin’s mind, the world was a better place with Laura’s potions in it; and Jay was right, it was good that somebody wanted to rescue them so they would live on.

“
Whose
recommendations did this?” Andrew challenged Jay, standing to face his boss and the bodyguard—now hovering beside Jay—from across the length of polished wood. “Was it that consultant you sent here?”

He’s talking about
George,
Kristin realized.

“What did the consultant tell you?” Andrew pressed. “I thought he was supposed to be advising us in good faith, helping us find ways to improve our financials. Not giving you recommendations to sell the company out from under us.”

George would not have recommended the sale. Kristin was convinced of this. George had broken bread with her family, and he understood what Aura meant to their community.

“The consultant
did
try to save us, Andrew,” Jay said. “We all tried. No decisions were made lightly. In the end, I didn’t have a choice.”

Jay placed his hands on the table and stood. He seemed shaky, like an old man, and even the stone-faced security guard beside him broke form and wavered, as if considering helping Jay up by his elbow.

Jay turned and deliberately looked to each of them again. “You are all my management team,” he said quietly. “It’s been a privilege to work with you. Thank you for your service all these years. And now, I’m asking for your assistance as I inform the rest of our workers. Today is Monday—we have one week before the new owners arrive to begin the process of packing the equipment. I gave them my word that all would transition smoothly. Today, we will speak to the employees and inform them about the situation. You all—the management team—will stay with me for the week, and then, in an agreement I made with the new owners, you’re welcome to stay for another month at double your salaries. I was able to negotiate this point for you in writing, if you choose to accept it. The hourly workers will be paid one month’s work, though the presence of most of them won’t be required.”

“What then?” Andrew asked. “The factory closes? Is that it?”

Astley solemnly nodded. “I negotiated the best I could,” he said quietly again.

And then everything was a blur to Kristin. The security guard hustled Astley out. The meeting broke up. As quickly as it had started, it was over. She felt confused. Adrift. As if she didn’t have anything to hold on to anymore.

Somehow she staggered back to her office. As she stood in the doorway, wondering what to do next, Andrew corralled her. With one hand on the door jamb, making her feel trapped, he glared at her. “What
happened,
Kristin?”

She didn’t understand. “I...”

He stepped forward, and by instinct, she backed up, into her office. Her heart pounding, he shut the door behind them.

“What happened with the consultant?” he demanded. “You were here that Saturday with him. Alone.” His voice was accusing.

“He...downloaded some reports and took a tour of the plant.”

“
What
did you tell him?”

“Nothing!”

“Did anything untoward happen?”

“No!” What did that even mean? She felt herself shaking.

He pointed at her. “I’m not going to forget this. Nobody here is going to forget this.”

With a last, warning look, he opened the door and left her.

He thought it was
her
fault?

For a long time, she sat at her desk, running through all the moments of that Saturday—everything that had happened—over and over in her mind. Wondering what had gone wrong?

Nothing had gone wrong. George had even thanked her. He’d said he would commend her to Jay Astley.

George had not recommended that their plant close down. She knew this in her heart. George would not have accompanied her to her brother’s house, and he would not have recited poetry for Lily, and he would not have kissed Kristin otherwise, not if he was going to recommend this happen.

She needed to talk with Jay Astley—now. Grabbing her purse, she hurried to the plant entrance, hoping she hadn’t missed him. On the way, she passed Mindy, holding her hands on either side of her head, wailing, as Arlene tried to calm her.

This was horrible. Mindy loved her job. What would she do now? So many people were affected by this heartbreaking decision.

Another worker walked by, also looking shell-shocked. Kristin wished there was something she could do to stop this tragedy of the plant closing. Even though a rational part of her knew Andrew was wrong for blaming her for it, she couldn’t help feeling somewhat responsible for finding a solution. He was right about one thing: Kristin was the only person on the management team who’d been present in the plant that Saturday.

But where was Jay Astley? Kristin gazed out the front windows. Across the street, a steady stream of Aura employees seemed to be heading toward the cheery glass storefront to Cookie’s Place, surely to congregate and talk.

Stephanie,
Kristin thought. Oh, no. Her sister-in-law likely would be a basket case. She was already worried about her business’s cash flow as it was.

Without returning to her office to grab her coat, Kristin ran into the cool spring afternoon, dodging the rain puddles that pooled on the asphalt. Pulling open the heavy glass door, she wove her way through the small crowd inside the diner.

A line had formed at the counter, and Kristin’s mom grimly poured coffee and manned the cash register as best she could. Inwardly, Kristin groaned. Even her little niece Lily sat on a red vinyl stool beside the cake and muffin display case, observing the somber proceedings with big, scared eyes. Jeff, Kristin’s normally quiet and calm production worker, was stomping his feet and hissing under his breath to the woman in line behind him.

“Have you seen Jay Astley?” she asked Jeff.

His lips pressed thin, he jerked his head toward the window.

Outside, a black SUV had pulled to the curb. Jay Astley was getting inside.

Kristin bolted. Without thinking, she sprinted out of the diner and across the street, waving her arms like a madwoman. “Mr. Astley! Please! Wait!”