The Trouble with Angels (Angels Everywhere #2)(81)

After placing the plastic wrap over it, she pinned the sales receipt to the front and hung it on the back of the closet door. She stepped away to admire it one last time before heading for the department store.

"Keep it.”

The voice came as distinctly as if she’d left the radio playing.

"Keep the dress,” the same voice repeated.

Joy whirled around to be sure someone wasn’t standing behind her. She shook her head as if she had water in her ears. Obviously she was hearing things. Sure, she’d been under a lot of pressure lately, but she didn’t think it was bad enough for her to be hearing strange voices.

The dress.

Her gaze softened as she studied the bright, g*y color and remembered how special and beautiful she’d felt wearing it.

"All right,” she said aloud. If she had taken to hallucinating, then she wasn’t above answering. "I’ll keep the dress. There, are you satisfied?”

Silence.

Joy was worse off than she realized; she was actually waiting for a response. She’d keep the dress. Now all she needed was an occasion to wear it. More important, a man who would appreciate seeing her in it.

But it wasn’t just any man who interested Joy Palmer. She wanted Ted. Why was it the unattainable was always the most appealing? Well, he was marrying Blythe.

With the decision made not to return the dress, Joy flopped down in front of her television set. She folded her arms and stared at the blank screen.

This had to be one of the most depressing Christmases on record. Her spirits were so low, they were scraping bottom. It wasn’t fair that one male, who apparently didn’t know his own heart or his own mind, should level her to staring at a blank television screen.

There was always something to be grateful for, she reminded herself, but at the moment she was hard-pressed to decide what.

Old Charles, she mused and smiled softly. He was ready, willing, and able to collect donations for the literary tea. He seemed to be more like himself these last few days, and it was a pleasure to watch him slowly come out of his shell.

Catherine Goodwin seemed to be having her share of problems lately. If it wasn’t for the older woman’s connection to Ted, Joy would have sought her out that afternoon following Ted’s fiancée’s visit.

Joy had seen Blythe walk through the lobby, stiff and elegant as ever. It was difficult in her frame of mind to be charitable toward the other woman. Joy didn’t need anyone to tell her she was being unfair.

Afterward, Joy had seen Catherine slip into the chapel. She hadn’t come out for a long time, and she’d seemed burdened and sad. Perhaps later Catherine would be willing to tell Joy what was causing her such concern.

Joy’s doorbell chimed, and she sprang off the sofa. A beleaguered postal worker stood on the other side, ready for her to sign a clipboard.

"I didn’t know you people worked this late,” she commented when he handed her a pen.

"We try not to, but this time of year it’s crazy.”

"Merry Christmas,” Joy told him when he handed her the small package.

She examined the box, but there wasn’t any name on the return address. Nor did she recognize the street name. It must have been valuable if her signature was required. Her heart started to pound, and she opened the door and raced after the mailman.

She found him waiting for the elevator. "Who’s this package from?” she asked hurriedly.

He checked the clipboard. "Eastman Jewelry.”

"I didn’t order anything from them.”

"You’ll have to take that up with Eastman. All I do is deliver, someone else covers complaints.”

"I know, but if someone sent it, wouldn’t their name be on the package?”

"Not necessarily.” He studied the numbers above the elevator.

"I mean—”

"You might want to open it up and check inside. There could be something in there.”

"Oh, right.” Joy hadn’t thought of that.

The elevator arrived and he stepped inside, looking grateful to make an escape before she hounded him with more questions.

Joy returned to her apartment and set the package on the table. She gingerly peeled away the paper, being sure to keep the address and return labels intact. Once the brown wrapping paper was removed, she discovered a white box. Inside was a black velvet case.

Joy held her breath as she carefully pried open the lid. Inside was a wide, textured gold bangle. She gave an involuntary gasp. Whoever had ordered this had spent a fortune. Gold bangles didn’t come cheap.

She lifted it from its bed of plush velvet and saw that it was engraved. TO JOY, WITH LOVE, FROM EDITH AND FRIENDS.

Edith. And friends? In other words, Edith and Ted Griffin. For the first time since their stilted telephone conversation, Joy felt tears brim in her eyes.

Damn it all, why did he have to go and do something sweet like this? It would have been much easier to forget him if he hadn’t used the word love.

Ted sat on the edge of his chair his elbows braced against his knees. Within a few weeks he’d be married to Blythe. Soon he’d be both a husband and a father.

The question that plagued him most was how long it would take him to stop thinking about Joy. An hour didn’t pass without some thought of her waltzing through his mind, bringing a deluge of regrets.

That very afternoon, when he was supposed to have been working on an important project, his boss had found him gazing out the window like a lovelorn adolescent. In some ways that was how he felt.