Avoiding my merry birthd.., p.1
Avoiding My Merry Birthday, page 1
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Thank You For Reading
About the Author
Also by Sonja Gunter
AVOIDING MY MERRY BIRTHDAY
Copyright © 2022 by Sonja Gunter
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ISBN: 979-8-88653-074-2
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Published by Satin Romance
An Imprint of Melange Books, LLC
White Bear Lake, MN 55110
www.satinromance.com
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Smashwords Edition
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Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.
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Published in the United States of America.
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Cover Design by Caroline Andrus
CHAPTER
ONE
6:50 P.M. CHRISTMAS EVE, PRESENT DAY
“Ten minutes, Miss White.”
“Okay, thank you, Mr. Rouge.” Gloria sighed, the end of another day for some, but not for her. She brushed a stray strand of her brown hair from her cheek and hooked it behind her ear.
The artificial pine Christmas tree next to the store’s exit caught her attention. It flickered in the now dim lights, and beneath it were red and white wrapped packages. They almost appeared comical or ridiculous along with the never-ending holiday music blaring through speakers in the ceiling.
“Bah humbug. ’Tis the season,” she muttered under her breath.
She had every reason to be cynical, being one of those unlucky people to have been born on Christmas Eve, December twenty-fourth. Friends never wanted to go out and celebrate her birthday.
How could she blame them? They were either traveling to spend time with their families for the holidays or didn’t have time with the Christmas rush. And then there were the non-existent presents. When she did receive one, nine out of ten times it was a combination birthday and Christmas gift, or for one day, and the other day forgotten. She’d learned to simply tell colleagues and friends her special day was the twenty-eighth instead of the real date.
But today was a harsh reminder that besides turning thirty-five, she was alone.
No husband. No boyfriend.
Long gone was her childhood dream of finding Prince Charming. That fantasy had crumbled into never-neverland when her dad had walked out on her and her mom. The years since it happened hadn’t healed the hurt and probably never would.
Gently, she tapped a wayward hanger in order to get it back in line with the others. Tucking a price tag here and there, because none should show per management, she wandered through the rows of clothes absentmindedly straightening them.
This was her life for the past two years.
A salesperson. Not even a manager or a key-holder.
So much for the expensive business degree she had earned. She only had herself to blame. The fast-paced executive jobs and career chasing sleazebags had ruined her outlook on what being successful really meant. That too was in the past, but she was moving forward.
Her mom said time would help. Something she didn’t think she had.
The store’s music began to play, “Baby, please come home. I remember when you were here...”
Gloria cringed. Not now. Not that song. It had been their song, hers and Jacob’s, and triggered memories of what a fool she’d been for five years. She had actually been blinded by love—no blinded by someone she believed loved her. She’d missed all the signs that her fiancé, the newly appointed CEO of Marley & Associate’s Company, had been cheating on her with of all people, her own secretary.
“Can I turn off the music?” The song hit the chorus lines, setting her nerves on end.
“Yes.” Mr. Rouge looked up for a second and then continued punching the keyboard. “Five more minutes.”
Hurrying to the counter, she bent over and flipped the switch. Thankfully, the offensive song ended, and the store became quiet, except for the sounds of Mr. Rouge closing the registers. He didn’t even flinch when she walked past him.
Maybe it was time again to find a different job; one that would insure no male interaction. Men were on her list to ignore. She never wanted one in her life again for as long as she lived.
Gloria shook her head negatively. Wasn’t this job to have been her safe haven? When she left Boston, her six-figure position along with her ex-fiancé and despicable secretaries, she’d chosen a new career that wouldn’t involve men, a women’s clothing store. It hadn’t turned out very well so far.
Refolding a blouse that a customer had so haphazardly folded, she smoothed it roughly and frowned. So much for all her well-intended plans. It had only taken two weeks into the onset of her new career, at the Crat-Chit store, for things to go sour. Holly, the manager quit, and Mr. Rouge had been hired.
“Miss White, have you finished straightening the store?”
“Yes, I have.” She responded by snapping to attention, not wanting to incur his short temper. It seemed she could bring it on easily more often than not.
“Are we ready to leave?”
The sarcastic reply she had been ready to deliver got caught in her throat. She looked around, certain he would find something, anything wrong or inaptly folded. Offering him a nod, when she found him simply standing there staring at her as if she’d grown horns, she then returned to the counter and removed her purse from the cupboard. Swinging the strap over her shoulder, she turned to him. “I am ready now, Mr. Rouge.”
Inwardly she smiled at the use of his name. He had a habit of introducing himself to customers by using his full name, Stan Christopher Rouge. But if you put his initials together with his last name they made, Mr. SCRouge.
He and the character, Ebenezer Scrooge, from The Christmas Carol, could have been twins; both cut corners and overworked their employees. You would think he owned the company, instead of just being an employee himself. Since his first day as manager, several employees had quit, and she’d been expected to take on the slack each time. Which she had done of course, with no extra pay or recognition and she swore at herself for allowing that to happen.
The sound of metal scraping, shifted her attention toward Mr. Rouge who held the front door open. Gloria walked outside, stopped, and waited for him to turn on the alarm and lock the doors.
“Remember we open at seven a.m.” He buttoned his suitcoat and smoothed down an invisible wrinkle.
“Yes, I know.”
They were probably the only store in the world that opened on Christmas Day. But it was a holiday tradition and more of a private five-hour event for the store’s best customers. Only invited guests were able to shop and receive the gifts the Crat-Chit company handed out.
It was sort of fun with the high energy and festive atmosphere, she told herself. The plausible excuse wasn’t convincing. The real reason she agreed to work was because the company gave out the annual bonus and two free articles of clothing to all the employees. She needed both right now. The bonus in her bank account and the new clothes in her wardrobe.
“Try to arrive on time, not late like today,” Mr. Rouge added.
She raised her eyebrows. One minute. He had the nerve to criticize her for that one stupid minute she punched in late today. “I’ll be here bright and early. Have a good evening.”
He didn’t even bother to acknowledge her reply or wish her a happy birthday. She knew he had to have known it was her day being the manager. He simply turned on his heels and walked to his car. Jamming her hands on her hips, she huffed at his so obvious disregard of her as if she was nonexistent.
Goodness, the man needed to get a life. Or an attitude adjustment.
Sighing, she strode through the empty parking lot to her car. Since all the store employees weren’t allowed to have their phones on the sales floor, she pulled her phone from her purse to check her for text messages.
Only the date and time lit up on the scene. No notifications of messages or missed calls. Zilch.
How could that be?
She’d been at work for more than six hours. Today was her birthday.
Pitiful.
She was the one who should get a life.
A few steps before reaching her car, Gloria pressed her key fob. The usual beep didn’t sound. What the hell? She aimed the key fob at her car door and pressed it harder; once, twice and a third time.
“Who am I kidding? Like that would make it work,” she mumbled after doing it.
Nothing happened. No beep, no flashing lights.
“Crap,” she said out loud. “How much worse can my birthday get?”
Looking around for someone to help, she found no other cars in the parking
She tapped her contacts on her phone and pressed AAA.
“Thank you for calling Triple A,” a woman’s cheerful voice stated. “How can I help you?”
“Hi.” Gloria leaned against the side of her car. “I think my battery is dead. My member number is D4A21G92.”
“I’m sorry you’re having trouble. Thank you for your member number. Is this Ms. White?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Great. Let me check to see what our estimate service time frame is.” The line went quiet. “Okay Ms. White, it looks like I can have someone there in an hour or so.”
“An hour?” Gloria glanced at the screen of the phone for the time. “By eight-thirty. If that is the earliest, I guess that will have to do. At least it’s in the upper seventies here in Naples, Florida. I don’t have to worry about snow.”
The woman on the other end of the phone laughed. “I’m in the Minnesota call center and its minus one degree here. Will you be safe to wait that long alone?”
“Yes. I’m in the mall parking lot and it’s lit very well. A security guard should be around soon.”
“Excellent, then I’ll place the service call. I have your location as, 11535 Fashion Drive, Estero, Florida. Is there anything else I can help you with, Ms. White?”
“No, thank you. Have a Merry Christmas.”
Ending the call, she manually unlocked the car door and got into the driver’s seat. She tried the ignition, just for the heck of it, but the engine did not even make a grinding noise. She hit the steering wheel with the palm of her hand, and cried out, “Ouch.”
It hadn’t been worth the effort. She massaged her hand. Deciding to make the most of her time, she checked Facebook to see if anyone had left her a birthday message there. When none came up, she clicked off her phone and sat in a lonely silence.
An unusual bright light reflected in her rear-view mirror. Squinting, she tried to make out who had joined her n the parking lot. Was that the tow truck? How could help have arrived so soon? A low hum of music seeped through the air. Frowning, she tilted her head for a better angle to hear where it was coming from.
“Dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open sleigh...”
Grimacing at the driver’s choice of songs, Gloria slid out of the driver’s seat to watch a red tow-truck with a wreath on the grill come closer. The Christmas music was now blaring so loud she was tempted to cover her ears. The driver must really like the age-old song, she thought.
The truck stopped in front of her car, and she bent over to retrieve her purse from the car.
“Ho, ho, ho. I heard you’re having a problem.”
The deep voice struck a chord to a long-ago memory from her childhood.
“Aren’t you into the holiday spirit?” She straightened and turned. “Sorry you had to come out on Christmas Eve—”
Gloria flung her arms outward to gain some balance as she felt herself falling. “Ohhhh, nooooo...”
Unable to evade the expected outcome, she held out her hand as she hit the ground hard. Her body jerked and then fell backward, causing her head to hit the pavement. Pain like a mother migraine surged from the back of her head to her forehead. She felt strong arms wrap around her upper body, lifting her. Before the expected blackness took over, she was able to fixate on a familiar pair of blue eyes.
“Nick?”
CHAPTER
TWO
FIFTH-GRADE CHRISTMAS BREAK, TWENTY-FOUR YEARS AGO
A bright light made Gloria spontaneously squeeze her closed eyes tightly. Throwing an arm across her forehead as an added shield, she groaned and tried to collect her thoughts.
It took a few moments before she remembered that today was her birthday. Only one person, her mother, had sent her a happy birthday wish text, which she received before she went into work.
Work.
That’s right, she had closed the store with Mr. Rouge, and they had walked out together. He reminded her to be on time in the morning.
OMG, I’m late.
No, she couldn’t be. She hadn’t been home yet. Her mouth tightened as the data she was processing became a dull ache of uneasiness. It nestled deep within her as clarity refused to come. Unable to focus, waves of thoughts after thoughts intertwined and became more confusing.
Mental images of her folding clothes, blended into colors streams. A red tow truck became bigger and bigger until it was towering above her, and a Christmas wreath fell from its front grill. It floated down over her.
No. No.
The warped visions sent threads of alarm through her.
Using a breathing technique from her long ago pilates classes, she inhaled and held it for two seconds, before she released it. Repeating the exercise until she could feel a calmness come over her and her jumbled brainwaves rightened themselves.
She could picture herself and Mr. Rouge, who had just reprimanded her on the importance of time and not checking in late. He then walked away to his car, and she went to hers, but it hadn’t started. She called Triple A and waited for the tow truck.
Then the bright colors and images faded. Everything went blank and dark.
Her mind resisted any memory to come forward. The harder she tried to remember, a piece would emerge and then disappear. The images were beyond her reach, gloating her to fail.
Irritated, Gloria bit her lower lip. If she couldn’t remember anything, she had to figure out where she was and determine if she had suffered any injuries. She ignored the thoughts that all this was some sort of a dream.
She wiggled her fingers on her arm that shielded the now nonexistent light from her eyes. Each finger moved without any pain or problems. Satisfied, she removed her arm from her forehead, but kept her eyes shut. And as she did, Christmas music filtered into her mind.
That’s right.
Her thoughts were clearing again. The tow truck had come, and the song, Jingle Bells, had been playing. She had been standing next to her car and reached inside for her purse.
She’d fallen. Her head had hit the pavement.
OMG. Nick, Nick Klaaws, her old school friend was the tow truck driver.
A long-ago emotion of delight emerged from the shadows of her heart. Disinterested in to figuring out why they were showing up now, she shoved them away.
If Nick had caught her, where had he brought her? To a hospital? How much time had passed?
Minutes?
Hours?
Days?
Clinging to the flickers of reality, little by little, Gloria opened her eyes. However, the fog that had covered her mind a few minutes ago was now encompassing her. There was no outline of her car or the tow truck. But she knew she wasn’t in the mall parking lot or in a hospital room. She couldn’t see anything around her even though her eyes were open.
A haziness now filled the area. If this was death or the afterlife it wasn’t what she’d expected. Dismissing the notion she’d died, she frowned.
Where was Nick? He’d been at her side and had come to her aid.
Then she thought, of all the tow truck services, why his? They hadn’t seen each other since her ex-fiancé had proposed. It was odd that their paths hadn’t crossed in the two years she’d been home until today. All of a sudden, her mind burned with a rush of scenes of them together. Some were from long ago and some she couldn’t remember ever happening.
Why was she thinking of him? It wasn’t like they’d ever been boyfriend and girlfriend. They’d only kissed once and there had been a spark, but nothing had come of it.
Had it been fate that had sent him to her? Or was it just a coincidence that he was the tow truck driver sent to help her?
If that was the case, where was he, she required help.
