Those Christmas Angels (Angels Everywhere #5)(62)

“Good. You can say them to my face.”

She studied him then, really looked at him, and saw how unhappy he was. This was the most joyous season of the year, and Roy was miserable.

“I didn’t say I loved you,” she said, her voice gaining strength and control. “As you’ll discover if you read my letter.”

He arched his brow in that all-too-familiar sarcastic way.

“But the truth is, I do.”

“Spare me, please.”

“It’s foolish, I suppose, but I always did like a challenge, and you, Roy Fletcher, are definitely that.” She even managed a brief smile.

Again the sardonic arched brow.

“The thing is,” she continued, determined not to let his cynicism destroy her, “I do love you and it’s up to you to accept that love or reject it.”

He said nothing.

“We haven’t known each other long, but in that time, I’ve learned a great deal about the kind of man you are. You have a tremendous capacity to give of yourself, a tremendous capacity to love.” She thought of the fact that he’d hired her father and that, unknown to his mother, he’d bought her paintings. She recalled the afternoon he’d come to her soccer game—and so much more. His unpretentious enjoyment of her simple meals. The loyalty his staff felt toward him…

He held up his hand. “Not interested.”

“I know, and that saddens me, because I’m going to get in my car and drive away. I didn’t come here to argue with you—I didn’t even expect to see you.”

“It seems to me you planned it perfectly so you would.”

Did he honestly believe she’d somehow manipulated their simultaneous presence in the company foyer? “I didn’t. But whether I did or not is of little concern.”

He shrugged. Julie knew he must have some feelings for her, otherwise he wouldn’t be standing here now, wouldn’t be listening to her. If this was her only chance to get through to him, then she might as well give it her best shot.

“You have the ability to decide what you want out of life, Roy. You can go on living behind your hard exterior, blocking out anyone who has the potential to teach you about love, or you can—”

“I already said I wasn’t interested in love. I made that clear from the beginning,” he snapped. “What is it with you? Every other word out of your mouth is something about love. Yeah, right! Well, I can’t help wondering how much love you’d really feel if I wasn’t who I am.”

“Who are you, Roy?”

“You know what I mean.” He gestured toward the building that stood as evidence of his prosperity.

“Are you the rich and successful entrepreneur?”

“You know what I mean,” he said again.

“Unfortunately, I don’t,” she told him, opening her car door. “I thought I knew who you were, but I guess I was wrong.”

“I thought I knew who you were,” he retorted, his eyes blazing, “but you proved me wrong. All you care about is the size of my checking account and what you can get out of me.”

She refused to listen to any more. With a heavy heart, she climbed inside the car.

“You’re—”

She closed the door to drown out his words, then inserted the key into the ignition. When she glanced in her rearview mirror, Roy was gone.

Julie exited the parking lot, and as soon as she was out of sight, she pulled to the curb and wept tears of pain and grief.

Leaning her forehead against the steering wheel, she knew she’d never see Roy Fletcher again.

Twenty-Four

“This is absolutely terrible,” Goodness lamented. All afternoon, they’d watched Julie put on a good front for her father’s sake. She could just picture the scene in Heaven when they returned only seven hours from now. It was Christmas Eve, their deadline. Soon they’d be required to stand with the angelic host singing praises to the newborn King. Except this year, Shirley, Goodness and Mercy would arrive from Earth without having fulfilled their mission. Goodness wouldn’t be able to look a single friend in the face. Well, she wasn’t accepting defeat that easily.

“It can’t get much worse,” Mercy agreed.

“We’ve got to do something.” Shirley was back to her pacing in front of the Wilcoffs’ Christmas tree. The living room was empty, with Julie in her room and Dean overseeing a last-minute security check of the Fletcher building.

“This is your fault,” Goodness said, glaring at Mercy. “If you hadn’t been so busy tossing salmon in Pike Place Market and holding security guards by the knees, we might’ve made some headway.”

“Give it up,” Mercy growled. “Besides, we both know you had a hand on Jason, too. I couldn’t have held him back all by myself. That guy has muscles.”

“Stop.” Shirley planted herself between the other two and shook her head. “We don’t have time to play the blame game.”

“You’re telling me,” Goodness moaned. “It’s already five o’clock.”

“That means we have seven paltry hours,” Shirley said, glancing at the old-fashioned clock on the fireplace mantel.

“Woe is we.” Goodness couldn’t believe that a prayer request could go so wrong. They’d worked harder on this one than on any previous request. In years past, they’d each received separate assignments, but she’d assumed that with their combined efforts this one would’ve been simplicity itself. Not so. And if there was anything Goodness hated, it was having to admit she’d failed. “We’ve just got to do something.” They had a few hours left. Just a few.