Angels at Christmas by Debbie Macomber Page A

overlooking Lake Washington.
    As Roy left the elevator and walked into the lobby, he saw a truck towing a vehicle away from the handicapped parking slot.
    Jason, the security guard, wore a satisfied grin. “Ms. Wilcoff’s car,” he said, answering Roy’s unspoken question. “In her rush to get in to see you, she parked illegally. Her father wasn’t willing to make allowances.”
    He was enjoying this more all the time. “Where is she?”
    â€œHer father said she could either take the bus or wait until he was available to give her a ride. She decided to walk.”
    That was exactly what Roy would have expected. “Any idea how much of a hike that is?” he asked.
    Jason nodded. Grinning, he glanced down at the polished marble floor. “I think it’s about ten miles.”
    A smile tempted Roy. “I see.”
    â€œYou can rest assured she won’t make it past me a second time, Mr. Fletcher. Her father’s banned her from the building, too, so you don’t have anything to worry about.”
    â€œI appreciate that,” Roy said, pushing through the glass doors, but as he walked out of the building, he realized that wasn’t true. Despite everything, he’d enjoyed his encounter with Julie, reveled in it. He felt alive in ways he’d forgotten.
    Roy turned back. “Do you know which direction she was headed?” he asked the guard.
    Jason looked surprised. “North, I’d guess.”
    â€œThanks.” Roy was going south himself, but a small detour wouldn’t be amiss. He didn’t think she’d accept a ride, but he’d ask. Perhaps a brisk walk would help her venther anger and make her a little more amenable to reaching some kind of agreement.
    Roy drove a black Lincoln Continental with tinted glass. He could see out but no one could see in, which was precisely the way he wanted it. He exited onto the main street heading north and stayed in the right-hand lane. He drove a couple of miles, mildly impressed by how far she’d gotten. She’d made good time. Perhaps she’d grown tired and taken a bus. Or perhaps she’d hailed a taxi.
    Then he saw her, walking at a quick pace, arms swinging at her sides. Roy reduced his speed to a crawl as he approached her. Traffic wove around him, some cars honking with irritation, but he ignored them and pulled up alongside Julie. With the touch of a button, the passenger-side window glided down.
    She glanced in his direction and her eyes widened when she recognized him.
    â€œGet in,” he said.
    â€œWhy should I?”
    Time to play nice, he figured. “Please.”
    She hesitated, then walked to the curb and leaned down to talk to him. “Give me one reason I should do anything you say.”
    â€œI’ll drive you home.”
    That didn’t appear to influence her. “I’m halfway there already.”
    Horns blared behind him. “If you don’t hurry up and decide, I’ll get a traffic ticket.”
    â€œGood. It’s what you deserve.”
    â€œJulie, come on, be reasonable. I said please.”
    She looked away and then capitulated. “Oh, all right.”
    She certainly wasn’t gracious about it, but he felt thankful that she opened the passenger door without further ado and slid into the car. As he hit the gas, she fastened her seat belt.
    â€œGive me your address,” he said.
    Obediently she rattled off the street and house number.
    Now that she was in the car, Roy couldn’t think of the right conversational gambit. He had no intention of meeting her demands and she apparently wasn’t interested in complying with his. Silly woman. With the stroke of a pen, she could be twenty-five thousand dollars richer, but she was too stubborn to do it. Perhaps she was looking for more.
    â€œYou don’t have anything to say?” she asked him after a moment.
    â€œNope. What about you?”
    â€œNot a thing,”