Santa's Posse by Rosemarie Naramore Page A

have
shopping to do?” he inquired.
    She laughed.  “No,
well…”  She shrugged.  “I might hit a sale or two, but no, basically I need to
be on-site should I be needed in an official capacity.”  Suddenly, her cell
phone trilled in her purse beside her.  “I’m sorry.  I meant to turn it off.” 
    She reached to
silence the phone, but noticed the call was from her mother.  “Wow, speak of
the devil … er, speak of the mother … er, speak of my mom…”
    He chuckled.
    “I really should
take this.”  She rose with an apologetic shrug and dashed into the ladies
room.  “Hello, Mom.”
    “Honey, how are
you?  I just called to talk to you about Thanksgiving…”
    “Your ears must
have been burning because I was just talking about Thanksgiving…”
    “With whom?” her
mom promptly inquired.
    “Oh, um—a friend…”
    “Really?  You’ve
already made a friend?  That’s wonderful.  What’s her name?”
    Kellie smoothed a
hand through her hair.  Should she tell her mother she was on a dinner date
with a man?  The declaration would no doubt prompt an avalanche of questions. 
    “I’ll tell you all
about my friend later,” she said in a rush.  “I’d better get back.  May I call
you tonight?”
    There was a
pregnant pause on the other end of the phone line.  “What’s his name?”
her mother demanded gleefully.
    She took in a
deep, calming breath.  “Mom, we’ll talk later.”
    “Well, okay.  But
call me the minute you get home.”
    Back at the table,
she slid into the booth and turned her phone off, before stuffing it back into
her purse.  “Sorry.”
    “Not a problem,”
he told her, watching her with the same sparkle of humor in his eyes she’d
gotten accustomed to seeing there. 
    “What?” she asked.
    He only shook his
head in response.
    “What?” she
persisted.
    “I was just
thinking how much I like you,” he said.
    She grinned. 
“Well, I … like you too.”  Suddenly, the couple heard three clipped beeps
emanating from his shirt pocket. 
    “My pager,” he
said with a sigh, retrieving it.  He quickly checked the screen, and then shook
his head in exasperation as his eyes remained fixed on the tiny device.  He
appeared to be grappling with his conscience.  “I don’t want to make this
call,” he admitted finally with an apologetic smile.  “But … I have to.”  He
rose this time.  “Be right back.”
    He was back in a
flash.  “Kellie, I’m sorry, but I have to go.”  He didn’t take a seat, but
instead, gestured the waitress over.
    “You haven’t
finished your meal,” Kellie pointed out.
    “I know.  I’m
sorry.”
    She waved away his
apology.  She could see by the resignation in his eyes that he wasn’t happy to
be cutting their dinner date short.  He quickly paid their ticket, and asked
for ‘to-go’ boxes. 
    “I’m really
sorry,” he repeated, once they were back in his car.
    She attempted to
sound upbeat.  “I understand your work has to come first.”
    He gave her a look
that she couldn’t read, and then reached a hand across the space separating
them.  He squeezed her hand.  “Yeah, work,” he said cryptically, but then
smiled sadly.  “I hope you’ll give me another chance.”
    “Sure,” she said.
    Back at the
condominium complex a few short miles away, he pulled into his parking space. 
He hurriedly got out of the car and rounded the front to open her door for
her.  He extended a hand, which she accepted.  “Thank you,” she said.
    He smiled in
response, and then began walking her across the lot to her door.  “Miles, you didn’t
have to walk me up.  I know you’re in a hurry.”
    He shook his head
briskly.  “They can wait an extra minute or two.”  With that declaration, he
sought her gaze, smiled, and then before she actually registered what was about
to happen, he kissed her—a sweet, merging of lips that caused her to go weak in
her knees.
    When they parted, she
gazed into his crisp