Marianne spent the morning changing the marquee. Out went Christmas in Connecticut and The Shop Around the Corner. Taking their place were Miracle on 34th Street at four and eight PM, and White Christmas at six and ten.
Switching out the marquee was the usual miserable chore, but that was still more enjoyable than the two hours she spent trying to make herself look more like the second female lead in White Christmas, Vera-Ellen. Lightening her hair to get closer to Vera’s blonde curls wasn’t too bad, but squeezing herself into a sparkly white sweater was no fun at all. And the less said about the leggings and the shoes, the better.
The overall effect wasn’t perfect, mainly because she didn’t have the legs of a highly-trained professional dancer, but it wasn’t bad. She was especially proud of the shimmery white cape, which Jessie had found for her online in ten minutes, after Marianne had spent several fruitless hours looking for what she wanted.
She’d wear this out to meet the Duck-Man, even including the red gloves. Why not? This was who she was, the woman who loved her movies so much that she dressed the part.
She showed off the look to her employees at the weekly staff meeting. That was too grand a term, really – it was usually a five minute huddle to remind everyone about the upcoming week’s movies, which they all knew about already. Jessie and Carly were duly impressed.
“That’s hot, Ms. Carter!” was Jessie’s verdict.
“I hope you’ve got a date tonight. You shouldn’t waste all that work,” was Carly’s opinion.
The male staff, too, approved. Jake was rendered speechless, which Marianne took as high praise. And Charlie whistled and told her, “If I was fifty years younger you’d have to beat me away with a stick.”
“Thank you,” Marianne said. “It’s nice to hear that. But you don’t have to say it just because I sign your paychecks.”
“No, Ms. Carter,” Jessie protested. “You really do look amazing.” Well, if a seventeen-year-old said it, it must be true, right?
Marianne chose to believe that, finished up the meeting and walked through the lobby. It was three-thirty now. She wanted to grab a bite to eat and take Asta out for a good, long walk, and then get on the road by five o’clock. The drive to the airport ought to take just an hour and forty minutes, but you never knew about traffic, and she didn’t want to take a chance on being late.
She took one step out onto the sidewalk when she heard her name being called. Someone was shouting it. A man.
Jack Nelson.
He was all the way across the town square, past the big Christmas tree. There, in front of Cicely’s Caramel & Chocolate. With a box in his hands. A big box – Cicely’s ultra-deluxe assortment, if she wasn’t mistaken.
Well, they’d been on three dates, sort of, hadn’t they? It made sense that he’d get around to buying her a gift sooner or later, didn’t it? If only he hadn’t picked this afternoon to do it.
She let him come to her. It wasn’t just a matter of playing coy; these shoes were hell to walk in. How had Vera-Ellen done a major dance number in heels like this?
“Marianne! I’m glad I caught you.” He was only a few feet away now, and she could see that it wasn’t the ultra-deluxe assortment after all. It was the one thing Cicely sold that was even bigger and more expensive, the Eternal Love box. “Forty-eight hand-made confections, for lovers to share as they share their hearts with one another,” as the little sign on Cicely’s counter described it.
That was an extravagant gift for him to give someone he hadn’t even kissed on the cheek yet. And that wasn’t the only curious thing. What did he mean, that he was glad he’d caught her? How did he know she was going anywhere?
“Jack?”
And why did he have a flower poking out of the pocket of his shirt?
Not just any flower. A red flower.
Not just any red flower. A carnation, in fact.
How did he know? How could he know? What in the world was going on?