My Only Christmas Wish. J.M. Jeffries
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Ninety percent of the weddings she arranges use our catering service, register with us, rent their tuxedos, purchase their wedding dresses and bridesmaid dresses, and book the receptions with several banquet rooms that pay us a commission. We even did a theme wedding in the toy department last summer. It was a tremendous success.”
“What are you trying to do, be all things to all people?” His philosophy was to do one thing and do it well.
Darcy shrugged slightly. “In this economy you have to diversify. Bennett’s is an institution in Atlanta.”
“I’ve seen your profit margin. You have diversified too much.”
“Our profit margin is fine.” Maybe not great, she thought, but nothing to be ashamed of. “And by attempting to make the entire process as painless as possible, we attract a lot of young, upwardly mobile couples who want the perfect wedding, and we give it to them. This is a one-stop wedding operation. And Bennett’s gets a little piece of everything from gift baskets, wedding dresses, tuxedos and food. And a lot of free advertising. Most of our new customers are referrals from other couples who used our services.”
Eli’s head whirled. This woman was tireless, and he liked that in her. How was he going to contain her? He would have to think about that.
“When I got married…”
“You’re married!” He felt a stab of disappointment, though he didn’t know why. What did he care if she was married?
She waved her hand. “Not anymore. But when I was planning my wedding, I had to work with ten different people from caterers to the dresses to the music director. I thought I’d go mad. By streamlining the process here, we sell peace of mind and the knowledge that the whole wedding will go off without a hitch. And trust me,” she said in a stage whisper, her eyebrows slightly raised, “people are willing to pay for that.”
Eli couldn’t stop the small thrill of anticipation that coursed through him. Not anymore, she’d said. Did that mean she was divorced? He forced himself away from that volatile thought and said, “If engaged couples want the perfect wedding, you should charge appropriately. From what I can tell, you have a flat fee. When things don’t go right, the amount doesn’t cover the problems.”
She stopped and turned around to look at him, amazement in her eyes. “You are such a man. You probably want to pick out your tuxedo, the time and the date and just show up.”
“That’s what I did.”
“You’re married?”
“Not anymore,” he said with a wicked grin. “I’m a widower.” The grin faded away as a shadow slipped into his eyes. The memory of Angela’s last days before succumbing to the cancer ravaging her body flashed through his mind.
“I’m sorry.”
He heard the sincerity in her voice, but brushed aside her words. She wasn’t being polite; she truly was sorry. “And what about you?”
“Divorced,” she replied in a regretful tone.
She pushed open a door and stepped into the cafeteria. Eli paused in surprise. The cafeteria was large and bright with a bank of windows on one side letting in early-morning sunlight. The room was painted in cheerful yellows and greens. A buffet table was set up along one wall with steaming pans of food under bright lights.
“Where are the vending machines?” he asked in astonishment. This couldn’t be the employee’s cafeteria. He saw a salad bar and a dessert table. A food handler stood at a station setting up a fruit display. “This is your cafeteria?”
She turned and gazed at him in surprise. “Yes. What did you expect?”
“Vending machines are much more economical.” He offered vending machines in the break rooms of all his stores along with a bulletin board of restaurants that delivered. “Where’s the burgers? The French fries? The pizza?” He glanced at the buffet table filled with—ugh—what appeared to healthy food.
“Two years ago, I revamped the company menu, substituting healthy food for the old standbys. Our insurance carrier gave me a great discount on our health coverage if we made some changes in our food. By going to healthier foods, we’ve discovered a number of employees have been losing weight.”
“Twenty-seven pounds today, Ms. Darcy,” a man called as he sat down at a table with several women.
Darcy spread her arms. “With a healthier menu our sick days have decreased, a number of our staff have quit smoking and—” she pointed at a large graph covering one wall “—my employees have lost a grand total of 3122 pounds.”
Admirable, he thought, but at the same time the expense of organic food seemed too high for employees. “Why do you care?”
“Healthier employees work better, and we decreased the amount they pay for health insurance without sacrificing benefit coverage.”
“That’s a lot of work to get a discount,” he said, thinking the employees should pay more not less. He provided insurance only to the managerial staff.
She studied him. “Why do I get the feeling that you are impressed by the fact I’ve saved the store money, but not by the fact that I’m attempting to make my employees’ lives better?”
“Department stores are notorious for having a high turnover rate. It hardly seems worth the bother.”
She gave him a look that had a Queen Victoria regalness that made him catch his breath.
“You already know Bennett’s is very stable. And my caring for them is one of the reasons why.”
She looked fierce, like a tigress protecting her cubs. For a second he was taken aback by this woman who showed absolutely no fear of him. Mentally, he rubbed his hands together. He was so ready for this fight. After all, he’d come here with the idea of offering her a princely—no, a queenly sum for the property the store sat on. He was determined to own it all, lock, stock and barrel and no society girl who looked as luscious as she did was going to stop him—despite his attraction to her.
He chastised himself and tried to push the unwanted feelings into the background. He’d had enough of marriage. Not that it had been unhappy, but he’d stayed more out of loyalty, than love, especially after his wife’s cancer diagnosis. And now he was left to raise his daughter on his own—
inadequately, he believed. His wife had been a good mother, giving up corporate America to stay home once their daughter was born. He hadn’t been able to give his daughter the kind of attention her mother did.
He took a tray and placed a plate on it. He glanced at Darcy. His employees ate off paper. How could she justify real plates? And stainless-steel utensils? Plastic should be good enough. He needed to change this.
He walked down the buffet line. He stopped at a tray of whole-grain waffles. “Don’t you have any regular waffles?” he asked, realizing all the food would be classified as healthy.
“Multigrain is good for you,” Darcy said as she reached for a plate of fruit.
The attendant studied him, one hand on her hip and a formidable look on her face. Like the other attendant behind the counter, she wore a white apron over a white uniform. She’d bound her gray hair into a tight ponytail.
“How long have you worked here?” he asked.
“Thirty-five years. You must be the new boss,” she said in a tone that grated on his nerves.
Taken aback, he almost dropped his whole-grain waffle. “Excuse me.”
“Mabel,” Darcy intervened, “be polite.”
“Humph!” She slapped the waffle on his plate and added a couple strips of bacon.
“Bacon?”
“It’s turkey bacon,” Mabel snapped. “Please move on, there are people who are working and need to eat. And I intend