Page 4 of Miss Christmas

Of course he couldn’t say no.

“I’ll help you.” He eyed George and thought of trying to drag him into it, but he knew any attempt would fail. Margo would find an excuse to drown Will in beauty pageant contestants because she wanted to fix him up. Badly. He had no idea why he had the good fortune to be Margo’s latest matchmaking project.

She pointed at his desk, “I’m leaving the contestants’ files with you. You’ll need to choose and meet each finalist to screen them to make sure they don't embarrass Regal’s, like happened last year.”

He nodded, glancing briefly at the stack of manila folders, each one with a glossy photo attached to the outside.

“Though I do have a favorite that I’d like you to promise to include. Her file is on the top of the pile.” He nodded again, but he didn’t bother looking at it.

“I know you’ll do a good job, Will. You’re a decent man and I know you’ll treat these women with respect because they’re real people. There’s a lot at stake for them. This year the winner will receive ten thousand dollars in addition to appearing in our Santa’s Workshop Charity Special on TV.”

“That’s a lot.” He was surprised. She smiled big and proud. George said nothing and glanced at his fingernails.

“You won’t regret it, Will,” Margo said.

“Sure.” He already did. “But don’t think I don’t know that this is a poorly veiled attempt to throw women at me. Haven’t you figured out, after the last three dinner parties, that I can’t be fixed up?”

“Would it be a sin if you happened to find Miss Right while you were looking for Miss Christmas?” She pointed her bright-pink-tipped finger at the stack of files.

“In fact,” George said, the notorious smirk barely suppressed on his face, “I promised Grandma you’d have a girl on your arm with a ring on her finger for the holidays.” George added with unnecessary relish, “We have 22 days to do it.”

Will didn’t know what to say to that, so he laughed. It was wrong on so many levels. “We? Fat chance. I’m not letting you two pick my future wife. And 22 days is a ridiculously short time to make that kind of a decision about someone I don’t even know yet.”

“It happens all the time, Will,” Margo said. “Haven’t you ever heard of a whirlwind romance? Forget about the ring. You can at least find someone with potential to settle down with, someone to invite to Christmas Eve Dinner.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly the impulsive type. I don’t even know what a whirlwind romance is.”

Margo stood and patted his hand. “I’ll come by later. You’ll need to choose the finalists and contact them by the end of the week.”

George rose and he and Margo left his office together.

“Hell,” he said aloud to no one. He scooped up the stack of folders and shoved them into a bottom drawer that held a bottle of Knob Creek whiskey and two shot glasses for late-night work.

The pageant was one thing, but bringing someone for Christmas to please his grandmother was another. On one hand, he loved Grandma and would love to make her happy. She was nearly ninety and getting frailer every time he saw her, which was most Sunday afternoons at their family dinner. Maybe it was time he settled down. The singles scene was beginning to exhaust him.

On the other hand, he needed to take his time and find the right woman. He hadn’t met anyone yet who inspired long term commitment. Scarlet Jones popped into his head. Her startling violet eyes, angel-devil face, and kickass body were only the tip of the iceberg, if her bold flirtation was a shadow of what lay underneath. Just thinking of her gave him a jolt. Whether she called him or not, he wanted to see her again. Maybe he’d lied to Margo about not being impulsive after all.

Get a grip on your brainless impulses, Will.

Shoving aside the red flag shooting up—aptly with Scarlet’s name on it—and the titillating question of what the hell he would do with her, he tapped on his keyboard, springing his computer monitor to life. He focused on doing his job. Or tried to.

* * *

Scarlet went to the window to watch Will after he left the diner. Her friend had joined her and they were both surprised to see him walk into the employee entrance of Regal’s Department store.

“Are you sure it was the employee entrance?” Dee said.

“It’s the only entrance on that side of the building.”

“I had him pegged as being from money,” Dee said. “He must be in management.”

Scarlet turned away from the window and pondered the man who’d lit her up like the pretty Christmas lights strung all over the diner.

“If he’s a sample of the beefcake working in Regal’s management, then entering their Miss Christmas pageant is a brilliant idea after all,” Scarlet said.

“Normally I’d call you incorrigible. You’re not supposed to be seducing the pageant’s management, but I agree entering was a good idea. The Miss Christmas pageant winner will be appearing on a TV special this year. An excellent bullet point for your resume. Your agent would love it.”

Scarlet walked back to the counter.