Hanukkah Hearts Page 3

  “Do some detective work. I bet you can find out.”

  Becky smiled at Joy. “We’ll see.”

  “Everyone standing around—not working? Another anonymous gift, Rebecca?” Maryann stood with her hands on her hips. “Come into my office.”

  “Sorry.” Becky shoved the book in her desk and shut the drawer, then followed her boss.

  She sat opposite Maryann, across a large glass desk. All the furniture at Homes and Ralph was modern. Stephen Homes explained that books are what’s going on now and therefore the publishing offices should look sleek and modern, as well.

  “I’ve sent your evaluation back to you with questions in track changes. Please answer them and return the document to me this afternoon.”

  “Will do.”

  “And, tomorrow, flag any places where Gordon’s writing needs work, places for the editor to take a longer look.”

  Becky nodded.

  “Here. Read these three and write up evaluations.” Maryann tossed three flash drives at Becky.

  “When do you want them?”

  “When can you have them?”

  Becky frowned. She didn’t have any plans this week except lighting the candles and licking her wounds. “I guess by the end of the week.”

  “Good. That’s all.” Maryann picked up her phone and swiveled in her chair to face the window. Becky got the hint and returned to her desk.

  She sighed and opened the email from Maryann. Before she knew it, it was lunchtime.

  “Come on, the accounting department is having their holiday lunch and they invited you, me, and Bridget,” Joy grabbed Becky’s arm.

  Becky glanced out the window. There was no precipitation. “What’s the temperature?”

  “Cold. Who cares? Carson Diller’s coming. Your chance to grill him. Come on, Becky, spend a couple of bucks on lunch.”

  Movement to her right caught her eye. Sam Golden sloughed his coat over broad shoulders and headed for the elevator.

  “Okay. You win.” Becky opened her drawer and grabbed her purse.

  “Good. Interrogate Carson. Find out if he’s your secret lover.”

  Becky held up her palm. “Wait! Whoever this is, it isn’t a secret lover.”

  “Okay, okay, admirer, then.”

  “Whatever. Let’s go.” Becky slung her bag on her shoulder and headed for the closet. Just before the elevator doors closed, her gaze connected with Sam’s. He smiled and raised his hand. She smiled back. Then he was gone.

  Lunch with the accounting department usually meant plenty of drinks and burgers. They didn’t disappoint. Wine flowed like water and beer was purchased by the pitcher.

  Everyone asked about her mother. How did they know? Word traveled fast at H & R, but within five minutes, they had her laughing at some silly joke.

  Joy turned a sharp eye on Carson Diller. “Got all your gift shopping out of the way?”

  “Yep. Except my sister. She’s a nerd. So hard to buy for,” he replied.

  “Gift card,” Joy said. “buying for anyone special this year? Maybe a Hanukkah present or two or four or eight?”

  Carson laughed. “You think I’m Becky’s Hanukkah Elf?”

  “You could be,” Joy said.

  “Maybe I am?” He shot a sexy look at Becky. “I hear you’re hot to see The Nutcracker at Lincoln Center.”

  “Who wouldn’t be?”

  “Maybe the Hanukkah Elf has something big up his sleeve.” Carson’s eyes glowed with mischief.

  She felt heat rush to her face. Is Carson admitting he’s giving me those gifts? Breathless as if someone had punched her in the stomach, she didn’t know what to think.

  “Guess you’ll have to wait and see. Or keep guessing forever,” he said, leaning over to whisper the last part directly to Becky.

  “Oh my God. What if he doesn’t reveal himself? What if I never know who the Hanukkah Elf is?”

  “I bet he does. And you might be surprised,” Carson said.

  “Aha! So you know?” Joy pounced.

  “I didn’t say that. I’m guessing, just like you.” Carson picked up his beer.

  Becky chowed down on a Philly cheesesteak. Between the heavy workload and the mystery of the Hanukkah Elf, she’d developed a voracious appetite.

  “Another glass of wine?” Carson asked, his eyes gleaming.

  Becky shook her head. Could he be the Hanukkah Elf?

  THAT NIGHT, BECKY PLACED her new book in her top drawer and stuck candles in the menorah. After reciting the prayer in Hebrew and in English, she gazed out the window. Her room faced the backyard of the townhouse, affording her a view of the rear ends of homes on 93rd Street. Her gaze swept up and down the row houses. Several buildings had picture windows.

  She spied families setting up Christmas trees, decorating them, or eating dinner. In some, there were working fireplaces their flames cast a reddish glow. The families had young children, reminding her of when she, David, and Joe were kids, helping to set the table, arguing about who had kitchen duty that night, and anticipating much-desired toys for the holiday.

  Sighing, she missed the days of being a child, dependent, and taken care of. Who knew living in New York City on her own would be so stressful? She’d watched reruns of “Sex in the City” over and over, dreaming of living a glamorous life in Manhattan. But reality turned out to be a different picture. Instead of buying exquisite designer clothing, she bargain-shopped, hawking sales. The images of rich dinners in expensive restaurants faded into the mist, replaced by the reality of sharing dishes at the Chinese restaurant. She could barely afford a movie once a month.

  Missing her family, Becky wondered if life in the Big City would end up being worth the sacrifices. Had she proven to her father she could make it on her own? Did it matter? Staring out the window, she longed to be part of a family preparing for a celebration. At twenty-eight, maybe she was ready to settle down and start her own?

  But she’d need a man—who’d be the right man? Her mind whirled. Would he be the Hanukkah Elf or someone she had yet to meet? Joy and Bridget never tired of endless speculation on the identity of the Hanukkah Elf. Each new suggestion set her imagination in motion. Could she see herself with Harmon from accounting or Carson from publicity? What about Trevor Gorman? Would she give him a chance?

  She didn’t know any of them well enough to have a valid opinion. And what if he turned out to be someone she didn’t like? Perhaps Charlie from the mailroom? No, he’d not have enough money to buy a leather-bound book. Once again, she turned to peep in the windows of her neighbors and imagined herself in those warm, cozy homes, eating the roasts so richly displayed on platters surrounded by potatoes and veggies, and drinking expensive wine poured into gleaming crystal stemware.

  She picked up her notebook. Perhaps these windows, the scenes inside, and her dreams would be the inspiration for her first work of fiction? She opened to a fresh, blank page and placed pen to paper.

  THE MORNING OF DAY four was frosty and clear. The sun shone a cold light on the sleepy city, just warm enough to melt the remaining snow and ice. Becky bounded out of bed, energized by the story she’d begun the night before, and the promise of a gift on her desk.

  She dressed in a plaid skirt, white blouse and red jacket. Festive, she thought as she traipsed through the wet streets to the subway. The hope that the Hanukkah Elf had left something for her spurred her on. She hurried along the sidewalk, not bothering to gawk at the gorgeous Christmas windows of the stores she passed. Hell, she couldn’t afford what they were displaying, so why waste time? She arrived twenty minutes early.

  When the elevator doors opened, she raised her hand to wave as she skedaddled past the receptionist and headed for her desk. There sat a package, in a horizontal silvery-blue foil bag. It was bigger than before. She tore the card off the gift. From: The Hanukkah Elf.

  She wished for a more personal message—a hand-written one rather than printed out. Maybe she could identify the handwriting? Shrugging her shoulders, sh
e ripped open one end of the bag and the scent of chocolate met her nose. Her mouth watered.

  Becky slid a chocolate babka out. A gentle squeeze revealed it was fresh. Probably purchased that morning. If she could find out who had arrived early...

  “Well, hello. I see your secret elf has already made a delivery.” Trevor Gorman stood at the other end of her desk, grinning. “Are you going to share?”

  “Did you buy this, Trevor?”

  “If I said yes, would you go out with me?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’m not going to tell you. Share?”

  Together they walked to the break room kitchen. Becky fished through the cluttered draw for a knife. Trevor grabbed paper plates from the cabinet. She cut two slices. They sat down to eat.

  “This is almost like a date. But cheaper.”

  “Not funny.” Why didn’t he get the hint and leave her alone? Was the man’s head as thick as a stone wall?

  The rich, intense chocolate flavor blended so perfectly with the buttery bread texture. Becky closed her eyes to focus on the deliciously sinful taste experience of the perfect chocolate babka. Damn! The Hanukkah Elf knew where to shop.

  “What will it take to get you to change your mind? Flowers every day for a week?”

  “Let it alone, Trevor.”

  “I don’t have problems getting other women to go out with me. I’m rich. I’m famous. But none of that seems to mean anything to you.”

  “I’m not going to end up a notch on your bedpost, okay. Can we leave it there?” She took the last bite of the bread.

  “What makes you think I’d get rid of you?”

  She made a face and stood up. Damn, the man was ruining her lovely Hanukkah gift.

  “I have to get back to work.”

  “Suit yourself. You don’t know what you’re missing. And don’t be surprised if you get buried with flowers.”

  She left him alone at the table and hustled back to her desk in time to answer a phone call.

  “Becky? Mr. Ralph wants to meet with you at ten.”

  “Okay.”

  As she replaced the receiver, her nerves kicked up. Uh-oh. Why did Mr. Ralph want to see her? Had Trevor complained? She swallowed. Mr. Ralph had never summoned her before. She wasn’t sure he even knew who she was. Stuck back in her little cubicle, she never even saw him pass by in the morning. What could he possibly want with her? Nothing good.

  Chapter Three

  She opened her email for the day and tackled an assignment, but her heart wasn’t in it. The minute hand on the clock moved slowly toward twelve. Sweat started under her arms and on her forehead. She plucked a tissue from the small box on her desk and smoothed it over her brow.

  Jumpy, she headed for the coffeemaker. Not a good idea to pump up on more caffeine, but she simply couldn’t sit still or focus on her work. When she picked up the pot, a deep male voice startled her.

  “Are you all right?”

  Glancing up, her gaze connected with Sam’s. “You look pale. Maybe you should sit down.”

  “I’m okay.” Becky stepped back.

  “What happened? Is your mother okay?”

  “As far as I know. Mr. Ralph wants to see me. I must have done something wrong. Or maybe Trevor complained.” She gripped the mug tight to keep her fingers from trembling.

  “Maybe it’s a good thing?”

  “Good? Me? Couldn’t be.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short.”

  Sam poured milk in her brew and offered a packet of sugar. “Take it easy. He’s a nice guy.”

  “If you say so.”

  He smiled. “Good luck.” And returned to his office.

  Becky took the coffee, which she didn’t want back to her desk and checked her watch. A quick stop in the ladies’ room gave her five minutes to refresh her makeup and show up at Mr. Ralph’s door on time.

  “Come in, come in.”

  Becky entered and made a beeline for a chair opposite his massive wood desk. Her knees refused to be still.

  “Hi, Mr. Ralph. You wanted to see me?” Her voice shook.

  “Yes. Relax. I don’t bite. Did you write this evaluation of Gordon Albright’s book?”

  She nodded.

  “Maryann was impressed with it.”

  “Really?” Becky tried to keep the surprise out of her voice but failed.

  “She said you’re pretty sharp. After reading your evaluation, she read the book and totally agrees with you.”

  “She does?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised. It’s Maryann’s job to spot talent. Since you love this one so much, we thought we’d give you a shot at landing the contract and shepherding the novel through to release. Are you interested?”

  Her heart rate doubled. “Do you mean it?”

  “Of course. Why do you doubt it?”

  “I mean. Well, acquisitions has always been my dream.”

  “Then you’re living proof that dreams do come true. We’re having a meeting on January second. I’ve added your name to the list. Get your thoughts together and be ready to discuss your ideas when we get back.”

  “I will. Oh, I will, Mr. Ralph. Thank you so much for this opportunity.” She stood and shook his hand.

  “Don’t let me down.”

  “I won’t.”

  “If you do a good job, there might be a raise in it.”

  “Oh, thank you for the opportunity.” Becky pushed to her feet.

  Her feet barely touched the ground as she flew back to her desk. Stopping on the way at Maryann’s door, she popped her head in.

  “Mr. Ralph gave me the good news. I can’t thank you enough for passing along my evaluation.”

  “It’s my job, Rebecca. You spotted a good book. Now we must figure out how to make it great. Glad you’re on the team.” When Maryann’s phone rang, Becky returned to her desk.

  Her mind whirled faster and faster, her fingers flew across the keys and could barely keep up with her thoughts.

  “Coming to lunch?” Joy asked.

  Lost in thought, Becky shook her head and kept typing. At twelve thirty, hunger gnawed at her belly. She stopped, grabbed her sandwich and headed for the cafeteria. Sam sat alone, reading a magazine and munching on lasagna.

  Emboldened by his past support, she approached. “Can I join you?”

  He smiled and pulled out a chair.

  “What happened at your meeting?”

  “I can’t believe it. You were right.”

  “You can’t believe I was right?”

  She sensed heat in her cheeks. “I didn’t mean it like that. You were right. It was a good meeting, not a bad one.”

  Becky summarized it to Sam. While she talked, he worked his way through a huge plate of pasta, nodding at appropriate intervals.

  “Confidence, Becky. Maryann tells me you’re smart.”

  “I thought she hated me.”

  “She can be a little gruff, but don’t let that put you off. She’s sharp and knows talent when she sees it. She’s mentioned you to me.”

  “She has?”

  He nodded. They went on to talk about Gordon Albright’s book. Sam shared marketing tips he’d seen used for success. Becky listened.

  “Tomorrow’s the last day until after Christmas. What do you think the Hanukkah Elf will bring you?” Sam asked.

  “I have no idea. Frankly, he’s already done more than enough.”

  “Have you figured out who it is, yet?”

  She shook her head. “Carson and Trevor both tease me about it every day. It must be one of them. Unless it’s Charlie in the mailroom. Ugh. He’s not for me.”

  Sam laughed. “Do you think he’ll reveal himself? If it is a him?”

  “I hope so. Maybe tomorrow? I’m leaving for Milwaukee on Sunday. At least I’ll have the last two nights with my family.”

  Sam nodded. “Good. I hope your mom is okay by the time you get home.”

  “That would be the best gift of all.”

  FRIDA
Y MORNING, BECKY threw off the covers and bounded out of bed. Would today be the day she’d find out who was the Hanukkah Elf? It was the last day for a present and since the office would be closed for Christmas. Becky needed to be with her family. Unable to get a seat on a plane leaving on Friday night or Saturday, she’d had to opt for a seven-a.m. flight on Sunday.

  She slipped on a red velvet dress and black patent leather heels to dress up for the holiday. She tied her hair back in a red ribbon.

  All the way to work, she wondered what would be waiting for her on her desk. The Hanukkah Elf had created excitement and anticipation. Anxious at being separated from her family in a time of crisis, Becky had worried every day. The surprise gifts relieved a bit of the tension in her shoulders and put a smile on her face—at least for a while. She looked forward to the new gift and sadness swept over her since it would be the last.

  Becky chewed her lip at the thought that maybe the Hanukkah Elf was someone she didn’t like or couldn’t like or want to go out with. Ugh, how ungrateful to turn her thoughts toward rejecting whoever had been kind enough to help her through a tough time. What would her mother say? She knew the answer. Guilt seeped into her bones. No matter who it was, she had to be gracious and acknowledge the kindness and generosity of the anonymous friend.

  She’d risen early and arrived half an hour before the rest of the staff. This gift she wanted to receive alone, privately, not with everyone gawking. When she entered the office, her gaze went straight to her desk. There was nothing there! Her eyes widened and her heart sank. Could he have forgotten? Changed his mind about her? Or been hit by a bus? Instead, there was an envelope.

  She hung up her coat, pulled out her chair, took a deep breath, and sat down.

  She fingered the envelope with her name on the front. With a shrug of her shoulders, she opened it. Inside was a piece of paper with a printed message and one ticket.

  Happy Hanukkah, Becky. If you want to know who I am, come to Lincoln

  Center tonight at 7 p.m. to see The Nutcracker. I’ll be in the seat

  next to you. You’ll be in a public place and free to leave any time. I hope