Page 38 of Scrooge

“Did you know Sheridan had twins?” I ask him because he didn’t mention it.

“No,” he scoffs. “I didn’t even know she had a kid until a few weeks ago,” he admits, and I nod. That sounds more like the Alex that I am learning about.

“Do you know how many of your staff actually have children?” I ask him, as I watch the teams down below warm up before gathering together for last-minute advice from their respective coaches.

“No. Maybe like twenty percent.” Pulling his cell from his pocket, he eyes it intensely.

“Sixty-five percent,” I tell him, and his head shoots up to look at me.

“Sixty-five percent?” he clarifies, his eyes widening, clearly surprised.

“That was the figure that Sheridan mentioned at our meeting during the week. That is a lot of toys, and a lot of people who earn a living for their entire families from your company. That is a lot of responsibility.”

I admire his business sense. But that is a lot of pressure on him, and I am slowly understanding his need to continue to grow the organization, do more and be more.

He drops his hand to rest on his thigh and sits back. There’s something about his touch resting there that feels so much more intimate than hand-holding. It feels way too good.

“How many toys?” he asks.

“Well, we have worked it out so we can have two toys per child, based on the budget allocation. You have approximately fifteen hundred staff eligible for this gift, with sixty-five percent of those with an average of two children… So, that is…” I grab my ear, wishing I had a calculator.

“One thousand, nine hundred, and fifty toys…” he says, leaning over and grabbing my hand, pulling it from my ear and entwining my fingers with his, resting our hands together on his other knee. My cheeks feel hot, and my breathing is shallow. I look around quickly, seeing way too many eyes on us before swallowing and getting back into character.

“Yes. That sounds right. I know it must be a small part of your overall event budget. I mean, you have food trucks and live music planned, not to mention the fees you would have to pay to run an event in that part of the park, but it is a big deal to my family that Tucker Toys can be a part of something so amazing.” I grin, wanting him to know I appreciate it. I am sure he could have gone to Macy’s or Saks or any other large department store to organize the children's gifts, but Jillian and I were excited to put through a special order this week, and we are looking forward to receiving the shipment. Mom and Dad had to sit down when I told them. The shock on their faces was evident enough at the large purchase of toys.

“I can’t believe I let them talk me into it,” he mumbles, almost sulking like a kid, and I grin.

“I am glad they did. It’ll make so many people happy. Ohh, look, hot dogs!” I say, pointing to the food stand off to the side.

“It’s ten o'clock in the morning,” Alex says, looking at me like I am crazy.

“I never met a corn dog I didn’t love.” I smile at him, and he shakes his head as the whistle blows and the game begins. I spot a group of homeless people over to the side, sitting in the sun, and can’t help but frown.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asks, clearly observant today.

“Nothing. It’s just, I haven’t seen Deloris in a while,” I admit. Now that I am not taking the train as much, and my social life has changed somewhat with dates and media, I don’t get to see her in our usual spots.

“Maybe she is just staying somewhere new.”

“It’s possible, but Jillian hasn’t seen her either,” I say, thinking about it. “Last time I saw her was that night in the park.”

“Maybe she is just busy, you know, with her bag of supplies she found that night,” he says way too casually, and I try to hold in my laugh, but I can’t. It comes out in a half laugh, half snort, making people around us look our way.

“Stop it. Since when are you making jokes?” I say through a chuckle, slapping my hand across my eyes, not wanting to think about that bag of dildos and vibrators we found.

“Hiding your eyes won’t stop the vision…” he teases, nudging my shoulder with his. I drop my hand, smiling wide, and I open my eyes to see his face leaning closer.

“Oh,” I say, surprised as his eyes hook on to mine. A silent look passes between us that I can’t decipher, yet it feels charged. He lifts his hand that is holding mine to his lips and kisses my knuckles.

“Does it make you embarrassed?” he asks, his head tilting as he watches me carefully.

“What? The contents of the bag?” I clarify, and he nods.

“No…” I say, a little unsure. I mean, I am a single female with needs. “It’s usually the men who feel uncomfortable around them, is it not?” If my ex ever caught me with such a thing, he would have gone nuclear.

“Only ones who are insecure. The rest of us have no issues using a partner to pleasure our women.”

Even though it is a cold winter morning, my body temperature just escalated, as did my heart rate.

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