“Not in the least,” she said, answering his first question and ignoring his second.
“I’m calling Security and having you escorted from the building. Your check will be mailed to you.”
“Security?” The image of two beefy security guards lifting her by the arms and marching her outside was so comical it made Emily laugh.
That seemed to infuriate him even more. “Do you find this humorous?”
“Frankly, yes.” She wouldn’t lie; the man was insufferable. Oh, heavens, she did have her work cut out for her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, your son needs my help.”
His jaw sagged as she scurried past him and walked quickly to the elevator.
As she suspected, the toy department was in chaos. Poor Jake was run ragged-thanks, in part, to his father, who’d taken too much pleasure in making her late for her shift. That man was about to meet his match. Emily Merkle was not going to let one overstuffed, pigheaded man stand in the way of her mission.
She’d been on the floor for thirty minutes or so when J.R. unexpectedly showed up. When he saw how busy the department was, he did a double take.
“Don’t stand there gawking,” Emily said as she marched past him, leading a customer to the cash register. Brenda and Karen, also on duty, were bustling around, answering questions, ringing up sales, demonstrating toys.
He stared at her blankly.
“Help,” she told him. “We could use an extra pair of hands, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Ah…” He froze, as if he didn’t know where to start.
“That couple over there,” Emily said, pointing in the direction of the board games. “They have a three-year-old and a six-year-old and they’re looking for suggestions. Give them a few.”
“Ah…”
“Don’t just stand there with your mouth hanging open,” she ordered. “Get to work!”
To his credit, J.R. rolled up his sleeves and dug in. J. R. Finley might know the name of every employee in his store-with minor exceptions, of course-but he was in way over his head when it came to recommending board games. To her credit, Emily kept her mouth shut.
At four o’clock there was a slight lull. “Dad,” Jake greeted his father. “What brings you down here?”
J.R. squinted at Emily but didn’t answer.
“Whatever it was, I’m grateful.” He turned to Emily. “How many Intellytrons did we sell this afternoon?”
“Sixteen.”
“Fabulous!” Jake couldn’t conceal his excitement.
His father, however, looked as though he needed to sit down, put up his feet and have a cup of hot tea. In Emily’s view, it would do the man good to work the floor once in a while. He might actually learn something that way.
“I came to talk to you about this woman.” J.R. stabbed a menacing finger at Emily.
“Ah, you mean Mrs. Miracle,” Jake said fondly. “She’s a wonder, isn’t she?”
“She’s a nuisance,” J.R. snapped. “I want her fired.”
Jake laughed, which was clearly the opposite reaction of what his father expected.
“This is not a joke.”
“Yes, it is,” Jake insisted. “Didn’t you see what a madhouse this place was? It’s like that every day now. I can’t afford to lose Mrs. Miracle.”
Emily sauntered over to J.R.’s side and whispered saucily, “Told you so.”
He shook his finger. “I don’t care if I have to work this department on my own,” he yelled, “I will not tolerate in subordination.”
“Excuse me, Dad, I’ve got another customer.”
“I do, too,” Emily said. “But you can keep standing there for a while. You make a nice fixture.”
A kid of about five stepped in front of J.R. and stared up at him. “Is that a trick, mister?”
J.R. lowered his arms. “What, son?”
The boy was completely enthralled. “The way you get your cheeks to puff out like that.”
Difficult though it was, Emily managed not to laugh. The boy was quite observant. J.R. had the puffing of cheeks down to an art form.
Jake finished with his customer and hurried back to his father. “Dad, I am not firing Mrs. Miracle.”
“No, you’re not. I am,” J.R. said. “It will give me great pleasure to make sure she never works in this store again.”
“What did she do that was so terrible?” Jake demanded.
“She insulted me and meddled in my personal affairs,” his father burst out.
“How?” Jake asked, calm and collected. He was the perfect contrast to his father, who waved both arms wildly and spoke loudly enough to attract attention from every corner of the third floor.
When J.R. didn’t answer, Jake shrugged and said, “Sorry, Dad, I need her.”
Emily smiled ever so sweetly.
“She’s out of here,” J.R. roared, making a chopping motion with his arm. She thought he resembled an umpire signaling a strikeout.
Jake shook his head. “She’s our best sales associate by a mile, so if she goes, we might as well close down the entire department. You wouldn’t want that, would you, Dad?”
J.R. hesitated.
“And if we close the department, you won’t have a chance to prove how wrong I was by ordering five hundred Intellytrons,” he said, as if that should be sufficient inducement to keep her on staff.
Emily suspected J.R. wanted Jake to fall flat on his face over this robot. He’d pay a high price for being right-and, as a matter of fact, he was dead wrong. She’d seen for herself how popular the toy was. She’d hoped it would be and had done her best to sell it. However, after the past twenty-four hours, she didn’t need to try very hard; the toy sold itself. Apparently, its sudden popularity had begun like so many trends, on the West Coast. Now, the moment someone heard that Finley’s still had robots in stock, they dashed over. Then they couldn’t whip out their credit cards fast enough.
“I’d better stay,” Emily murmured to Jake. “As much as I’d like to walk away right now, I wouldn’t give your father the satisfaction.”
J.R. stomped his foot.
“Are you having a temper tantrum?” she asked sweetly.
Jake only laughed. “Dad, I think it might be best if you went back to your office now. Or you could go home.”
“This is my store and I’ll stay anywhere I darn well please.”
Jake leaned closer to his father and whispered, “You’re scaring off my customers.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“We want customers, don’t we, Dad? Isn’t that the whole idea?”
“Don’t get smart with me,” J.R. muttered.
“Yes, Dad.” Jake winked at Emily, who winked back.