Miracle on 34th Floor Page 2

  Not four steps into the big atrium, she turned to glance at the elevators. Mr. Kringle stepped out and started walking toward the outside doors.

  The security guard behind the desk eyed her as she kept back until Mr. Kringle had walked down the sidewalk and out of sight. Still catching her breath, she exited the building and started walking in the opposite direction.

  She’d often wondered where he lived and what he did after work, but she refused to actually become a stalker. If he never noticed her, then that would just have to be her lot.

  She walked slowly. After the stair fiasco, she wanted to give herself time to cool off. The brisk air felt nice on her neck, through her clothes. The store windows were all lit up, and the displays made her smile. She crossed the street to take a look at Gimbels. Their window displays were always magical. No wonder every child in the city wanted to go to Gimbels for a toy. And they always had the best Santa in the city.

  The store had just recently closed. Two clerks stepped outside. “That was the best Santa we’ve ever had, I’m telling you.”

  “Well, maybe you can get him to stay on.”

  “No way. He’s a businessman. He doesn’t have time for this, I guarantee it. He just agreed ’cause we were in a bind—he talked me into letting him, if you can believe it.”

  They moved out of earshot. How curious. Now she wanted to see this new Santa. Maybe she could head over during her lunch break or something.

  She wandered down the street, window-shopping until she came to her favorite deli. “Hello, Gio.”

  “Oh, it’s the lovely Joylin. I’ve got your sandwich.” He held up a white bag.

  “Thanks for holding it for me.”

  “No problem. Working late, are you?”

  “Yeah. Everyone takes their vacation this time of year, so more work falls to the rest of us.”

  “You don’t see me complaining, do you? There’s no one to take my spot.”

  She laughed. “I guess not. I’m glad you don’t take time off.”

  “I bet you are.” He rang her up, and she tucked the bag under her arm. As soon as she stepped outside, she hailed a cab. She wasn’t in the mood for the subway tonight. The cab drove down to her place in SoHo. She’d been lucky to inherit a townhome from her grandmother. It had been in the family since the original immigrants, apparently, and now Joylin lived there. She loved the thought of generations of her family huddled around the same radiator each winter to stay warm. But she also loved her new gas fireplace and the other updates she’d made over the last couple years.

  She walked up the stairs to her front door. Her neighbor opened her door and waved. “Hey there, Joylin. How are you doing, honey?” The older lady made Joylin smile.

  “I’m just fine. How are you, Betty?”

  “Good, good. I’ve got this knee bothering me and sometimes my elbow. They say that it’s the joints all over, but to me, it’s just this one knee and elbow. But thank goodness my hips are strong. They say that once your hips go, that’s it. You’re done for. But I think the elbow and the knee are okay.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Miss Betty. I hope you start feeling better.”

  She nodded. “Thank you, dear. You call if you need anything.”

  “Thank you. I will.” Joylin stepped inside her door. Jojo yipped a hello and started dancing around at her feet.

  “Oh, who’s a good girl? Who’s a good girl?” She picked up her Shih Tzu, who started licking her neck, then she put the puffy fur ball back on the ground. The dog raced around the floor, looking for attention. “Just a second. Just a second, girl.” Joylin put her food down, hung up her purse, and went to get a drink of water.

  Jojo had a doggy door that let out into the tiny yard that made up her piece of New York. It didn’t count for much by way of exercise, but it at least gave the tiny dog a place to go outside. Watching her race around the floor, Joylin suspected the dog got as much exercise as she could ever want. But she still changed her shoes and put on a warm hat in preparation to go back outside. Her ears had started to hurt while window-shopping, the icy cold nipping at the tips.

  She put a leash on Jojo but didn’t take her out yet. Instead, she sat at the table with a huge glass of water and her deli sandwich. Gio really knew how to make these. What would she do without the Gios in her life? New York was full of them. She had the coffee guy on twenty-eighth, the bakery on eighteenth. She loved the smoothie guy on fifty-first but only went there sometimes. She turned on the TV to check the Hallmark station. Her favorite movie was coming on soon, and she didn’t want to miss it.

  Her phone rang. “Gemma!”

  “Hey, girl. How late did you stay?”

  “Couple extra hours. But I’m finished with that dang account.”

  “Good work. Hey, some of us are going to Connolly’s. Wanna come?”

  She’d just about settled in for a Hallmark night, but she kind of wanted to tell Gemma about her almost encounter in the elevator. Connolly’s sounded nice. “Okay, I’ll be there in an hour.”

  “Great! Peter’s coming.”

  “Uh…okay. Anyone else?”

  “Yeah, the gang in our corner.”

  They had a fun section—it was a bit dysfunctional, but they worked well together. Joylin couldn’t imagine any of them out getting drinks on their own. They just weren’t that social. But they were pleasant enough.

  “Jojo.”

  The dog perked up her ears. “Your walk’s gonna be short.”

  At the word walk, the dog went nuts, scampering around the whole first floor of the townhome.

  When Joylin entered Connolly’s an hour later, she knew it had been a good idea to come. She needed to shake off her awkwardness from earlier. Something about Decker Kringle just set her confidence back down to zero. She clamped up, froze up, and forgot the English language every time she thought about him.

  Gemma waved from their table.

  Joylin smiled at them and then the room at large. She felt men’s eyes on her. See. She was pretty. Men were interested. She could be strong. Maybe even some day, she could flirt with Decker. She shivered at the thought.

  Gemma scooted over, and Joylin sat. “Hey!”

  Peter lifted his glass, and Gemma waved for the waiter. Two guys from Tech, Lionel and Reggie, lifted hands for her to high-five.

  “So, Peter. How’d that project go?” Joylin hoped he’d finished it, because if he hadn’t, she’d be filling in to get it done on time.

  “Great. Almost done—really, just almost.”

  She nodded and pressed her lips together.

  “Come on. I’m working as hard as I can. It’s not my fault if you’re just way overqualified for your job.”

  “Nothing wrong with stretching yourself a little bit.”

  Lionel held up his hands. “Can we not talk about work? Please?”

  Joylin nodded. “Of course. Hey, I heard two people talking outside of Gimbels. Apparently, their Santa quit and they’re scrambling for another one.”

  “Oh, oh! It’s true.” Gemma pulled up an article on her phone. “I read something about this on the subway home. Yep. They had no one all afternoon, and then this guy shows up and volunteers to fill in until they find a new Santa.”

  “What! That’s awesome.”

  “I know. Look, here he is.” She handed the phone to Joylin.

  She half glanced and then did a double take and zoomed in close.

  “What? Do you know him?”

  Joylin shook her head, but she thought she did recognize him. Was she crazy? Was that…Decker?

  She handed the phone back. She was seeing Decker in the face of Santa! Maybe she had a legitimate problem. Who liked a guy—no, who was completely obsessed with a man for a year without even talking to him? Her eyes caught the gaze of a man sitting across the bar from her. He was good-looking and seemed normal-ish. He smiled and nodded to the stool next to him.

  Gemma followed her gaze. “Go.”

  “Just for a sec.”


  “Yeah, okay, whatever. Just go.”

  “I really don’t think this is going anywhere.”

  “I know.”

  The guys all swiveled their necks to see, and Joylin stood before things could get any more awkward. She walked slowly, hoping she didn’t trip and fall, and slid onto the stool next to the man. He had dark hair, a strong jaw, and a brilliant smile. So far, so good.

  “Hey.” She swiveled so that she faced him.

  “Hey yourself. Thanks for coming over.”

  She shrugged. “I wanted to meet you. So…how’s it going?” She could never think of anything cool to say.

  “I’m good now. So, what can I buy you?”

  They ordered drinks and talked about the city.

  “I work uptown, near Gimbels.”

  “Me too. I love that café around the corner.”

  “Julio’s?”

  “Yes! That’s the one.”

  He nodded. “Excellent. Maybe I could see you again after tonight?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Could I get your number?”

  She considered him.

  “I’m pretty harmless.”

  She laughed. “I hope not too harmless.”

  “I’m whatever you want me to be.” He leaned closer so their faces were almost touching. “Now, can I get that number?”

  “Sure.” She held out her phone. “Just add yours. Or text me or something.”

  He did, and then he held up her phone. “Can I take a picture?”

  She wanted to groan a little but didn’t. She leaned in for a selfie. They looked good together. “Okay, great.” Already, she was getting tired. Her group was laughing, the guys acting like dorks—maybe that was more her style. Lionel stuck two straws up his nose, and she turned away. Nope, never mind.

  “Would you like to go upstairs and get some food?” he asked. “They have amazing beef stew.”

  “That sounds nice. Are you hungry?”

  “I’m starving. And it’s quieter up there.”

  Nice. Things were good with this guy—he almost seemed normal. Why couldn’t she get just a little bit excited about him? He was no Decker, sure, but who was? Maybe this guy was even better. She just needed to give him a chance. She repeated that to herself the whole way up the stairs.

  The waiter sat them in a quiet corner, they ordered delicious food, and she learned all about his work overseas in the Congo. Pretty awesome by typical weekend bar standards.

  But she still couldn’t get into him enough to forget her crush on Decker. Maybe if they went out a few times, did lunch during the week, something more…

  When they said goodnight in the cab in front of her townhome, he held her hand for a second. “Can I call you for lunch this week?”

  “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  “Thank you. Good night, Joylin.”

  She waved and watched the cab drive away. Then she immediately wondered what Decker had going on tomorrow at work.

  3

  Decker closed the meeting. Their new marketing plan for Synergy Systems was a go, and he was proud of his work. Everyone was gathering their things and standing up to leave except Victoria Sanchez, CEO of the company. The scariest woman he’d ever talked to.

  Everyone else on his committee scooted out of the room, making it easy to avoid having to talk to her. But he could do nothing about the fact that he was trapped.

  As soon as the last of his team left with a sympathetic glance, Victoria leaned forward. “Let’s talk. Can you close the door?”

  “Certainly.” He closed the door, noticing a head or two ducking back into their cubicles. He chuckled.

  “Something funny?”

  “No, not really. People seem interested in what’s going on in my corner of the office all of a sudden.”

  “Many are interested. You’re talked about by the board of directors all the time.”

  He couldn’t tell if that was positive or negative, so he just nodded. “Excellent.”

  “And right now, you and I need to talk about the Juicy Juicers campaign.”

  It was an old account. He thought it was pretty much running itself at this point. “Oh?” He pulled up the file on his laptop so he could see the most accurate and up-to-date numbers. Everything looked as expected.

  “We’re thinking about closing down that account.”

  “What? But I’m looking at the numbers right here. We’re doing well, consistently selling and keeping them happy. It’s one of my mid accounts.”

  “Tiff wants to bring in a big soft drink company, and we can’t if you have Juicy Juicers. They’re a competitor.”

  He counted to five and then rotated his laptop. “Tiff is new. This soft drink company is not a sure thing, and we’ve been happily helping Juicy Juicers for eight years now. My father brought them in.”

  “And while that bit of nostalgia might mean something to you, it means nothing to me or the board. We are most concerned with profit, as you can imagine.”

  “Victoria. Treating loyal clients well is the best way to bring in long-term profit. It’s about respectability and reputation.”

  She tapped her pen. “There are those on the board who agree with you.”

  Hope relieved some of the tension that was rising. “I’m happy to hear it.”

  “Perhaps you can find a way for them to start bringing in more money as a client.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Create reasons for a more active campaign. Help them sell more products so they will earn us more money. Do your job, Decker.” She said his name as though it were distasteful.

  She respected him, he knew that, but he doubted she liked anyone in their office—except Tiff. They seemed to be tight. And this new pressure to lose one of his oldest clients was evidence of their loyalty to each other.

  “We can talk about it over dinner. I’ve asked Tiff to join us and a couple of the guys in finance.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve got plans during dinner, but I could meet you at nine.”

  “This is important, Decker.”

  “I’m hearing you, but I only just learned about the dinner in this moment. How important could it be if it’s being planned as we speak?”

  “We only just decided to bring you in.”

  That stung. But he brushed her comment aside. “Thank you for bringing me in. I’ll do what I can; maybe drinks after?”

  She tilted her head and shook it subtly. “I guess we shall see if we get the illustrious company of our VP of marketing tonight.”

  “Yes.”

  She stood. “Otherwise, your work remains excellent. Your clientele superb. I look forward to seeing who else you can bring in this year.” Always the push to bring in more clients.

  “We’ve projected quite a large number.”

  “Yes, I saw that. I hope your team can deliver.”

  He wasn’t comfortable with her attempt to put pressure on him. He’d always projected a number of new clients. And more often than not, they’d exceeded expectations. But never had he been held accountable for the projection. Since Victoria’s new position as CEO, the tone in their firm had changed.

  “We’ll see. And of course, I plan to continue work with our current clients.”

  “Hmm. Yes.” She headed for the door. “Oh, and also, keep an eye on some of your team. I feel like they might be underperforming. They’re up for review these next six months. Let’s talk about it in the coming quarter.”

  He held the door for her and nodded as she left. But once she was out the door, he wanted to shake her off. He rolled his shoulders, shook his hands, and then hopped in place. Not good enough, not enough to get Victoria out of his system. He dug in his desk for his jump rope and started whipping it in circles, his feet dancing off the floor.

  Was he okay here? Was Victoria trying to push him out or his team? Maybe it was time to dust off his resume. The business wasn’t the same as when his dad started the marketing department. But if he left, what would
happen to his clients? Maybe they would come too. He jumped faster. Then he did high knees. All of these thoughts were premature, but he wanted to be ready if his situation were to change.

  After a solid workout and exorcism of Victoria’s vibes, he changed his shirt and opened his office door. The day continued as it normally would. More than once, he thought of his commitment that evening to reprise his role as Gimbels’ Santa. What would he do about the dinner meeting with Victoria?

  At last, when six o’clock came, he slipped his laptop in his bag and locked up his office. He texted Victoria that he would meet them for drinks after if his presence was still required. Then he picked up his pace as he left the building. His heart felt lighter outside. The festive storefront windows, the lights on Gimbels, the tree he could see through the window all lightened the burdens he had been carrying at work.

  On his way into Gimbels, children raced past him. “Santa’s coming right now! I bet if we watch, we can see him walking up.”

  “Is he gonna land on the roof?”

  “Of course, but there’s no way to see that.”

  Off they went, dodging past customers and racing up the escalators. He was a part of that magic.

  The care he took in the makeshift dressing room was more meticulous than the day before. He used the offered glue to keep the beard in place. He stood back and examined himself in the mirror when he was finished. “I don’t look fat enough.”

  He glanced around the storage room, and then he saw it, a fake stomach you strap on underneath your clothes.

  He made his way out toward the sales floor. Before he exited, he thought he’d mess with the crowd a little bit.

  “Ho! Ho! Ho!” he called.

  The screams of the children made him grin. He shook some bells he picked up from a table. The kids hushed, and he could imagine them straining to hear the bells.

  “Ho! Ho! Ho!”

  And then they broke into song, and his heart was happy.

  He looked back at Mary and laughed. “This is great! Do you hear that?”

  Mary joined him, peeking out the crack in the door. “There’s a whole lot of families out there. You ready for this?”

  “You bet!” He pushed open the door. All the kids jumped up and down and cheered, and he felt like a rock star. “Ho! Ho! Ho!”