think it works in our favor more than it works against us.”
“Your family didn’t own the town’s major employer.”
“True.” She paused when the waitress came over. Cullen deferred to her and she ordered a salad. He ordered a hot roast beef sandwich.
When the waitress left, she picked up the conversation where it had left off. “So, how was it?”
“Living here?”
She shrugged. “Living here. Living with a mom who was company president.” She frowned. “Why was she the one running the company? The company was founded by your dad’s grandparents. Why didn’t your dad take the job?”
“He didn’t want it. All along he wanted to hire a competent manager, move south and enjoy life.”
“So what happened?”
“He married a local girl. He met my mom his last year in college and it was love at first sight. They kind of got married without really talking about what they wanted out of life.”
Though Wendy and her husband had had a good marriage, it was only because she’d never complained when Greg had totally controlled their lives. “I basically did the same thing.”
“Then you understand my dad’s disappointment when she wouldn’t leave her friends.”
“She wouldn’t leave her friends?”
“She was afraid that an impersonal manager wouldn’t treat the people of the town well.”
Wendy shrugged. “In a way she was right. Mr. McCoy hasn’t given raises in five long years.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t change the fact that my father was miserable. So he hid himself in his work. He started an investment company and grew it until my mom retired.”
Which was why a neighbor had to coach Cullen’s Little League team. His mom felt it her duty to ensure that her friends at the candy factory were treated right, and his dad hid in his work. No wonder Cullen understood Harry’s loneliness.
The waitress came with their drinks and silverware, silently set them on the table and left again.
He nodded at Mercy. “She’s not much of a talker.”
“She’s new. And probably afraid of you.”
He snorted a laugh. “Right.”
“I’m serious. Everybody’s afraid of you or suspicious of why you’re here. I figured out last night that the way everybody treats you oddly is part of why you don’t want to live here.”
“No. I don’t care what the people of the town think of me. I don’t want to live here because I have a life in Miami. A life I love.”
A shiver of caution tripped down her spine, reminding her of how different they were; how they wanted different things out of life. Still, worries like those were irrelevant. She already knew their differences.Yet, she still liked him. A lot. She hadn’t even been slightly attracted to a man in so long it felt wrong not to follow up on what she felt for Cullen. And if that led to an affair, it led to an affair. She wasn’t going to be Miss Goody Two-shoes anymore. But she wouldn’t get her heart broken because she’d go in with her eyes open. No expectations.
“All the same, it wouldn’t hurt you to spend a little time with the people your company supports.”
“Is that what this is all about?” He motioned around the diner. “Getting me out among the people?”
“No. Yes.” She winced. “I think you have a poor opinion of them from your childhood and they have a poor opinion of you since nobody got a raise after you took over.”
“That was Paul’s doing. Once my mom retired, my dad wouldn’t let her even peek at the books, afraid she’d become overinvolved again. Paul was making money for us and we chose to let him do whatever he felt necessary. Now that we know he was a little heavy-handed with the employees, we’re fixing things.”
“You’re fixing things. Everybody thinks the no-raise policy came from your family and you’re the living, breathing person in Barrington getting the blame. You need to get the credit.”
He laughed. “Once again, I don’t need the credit.”
She toyed with her silverware. “Have you ever stopped to think that maybe they need you to take the credit?”
His face twisted in confusion. “How’s that?”
“Just as Harry needs to learn to trust me, these people who depend on you need to know that you’re trustworthy.”
Cullen said nothing.
“Do you want them to spend the rest of their lives wondering if they’ll have a job next year?”
“Why would they think that?”
“The rumor has run rampant for years that no raises means no profits, which means there’s no reason to keep Barrington Candies open.”
“Our profits are fabulous! Why do you think we never sold out when we decided to move away?”
She shrugged. “Everybody felt your family was sentimental.”
“Wow.” He leaned back in his seat. “Nobody ever leaked the numbers?”
She shook her head.
“You’ve seen the financial reports. Are you telling me you’ve never even tried to reassure your friends that everything was fine?”
“Of course I did. I’d say things like, ‘we have nothing to worry about.’ But no one believed me.” She pointed across the table. “You, they’d believe.”
He closed his eyes and puffed out a breath. “I’m really going to have to do this, aren’t I?”
She grinned with delight, her confidence in him blooming. “Yes.”
“Damn. I’m not much on PR.”
“You’ll live.”
He laughed and opened his eyes just as Mercy arrived with their food. After she set the dishes in front of them, Cullen looked up at her with a smile. “Thank you, Mercy.”
She smiled shakily. “You’re welcome, Mr. Barrington.”
“You can call me Cullen.”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t call him Cullen. She said, “Okay,” then scurried away.
“How was that?”
“That was a wonderful beginning.”
He picked up his fork and dug into his hot roast beef sandwich. “Just so you know—I’m not doing this to get credit for the raises. I’m doing this so people get comfortable with the idea that their jobs aren’t going away.”
“You won’t be sorry.”
“I’d better not be.”
When they stepped out of the diner, a faint sheen of snow covered the cars parked on Main Street. A light breeze tousled the feathery tinsel wrapped around the streetlights. The silver bells on light poles jingled.
“Where to?”
“We’ve got three choices. Perry’s Toys, Mac’s Hardware or Truffles.”
Cullen nearly laughed at the thought of Mac’s Hardware until he remembered the hardware store had been the best place to buy trains. Then he heard her mention Truffles, the candy store his father half owned. He was a partner with their former neighbor, Jim Edwards, in the store that sold Barrington Candies as well as toys, gifts and greeting cards. Though Cullen had spent many an afternoon trailing behind Jim when he had coached the Little League team, or watching as he arranged toys and candy displays, he hadn’t seen Jim in