“You sure don’t see many of these around anymore,” he said. “Mind if I have a closer look?”

Her heart rate doubling, and for a minute, she thought maybe this was a newfangled way of committing a robbery and wished Brent would return, but common sense took over. This man was not here to rob her of the ninety-nine dollars and change she kept in the drawer. Though she wished she’d read the name on the check, just in case.

Hesitantly, she said, “Go ahead.”

He must have picked up on her nervousness, because he just peered around the counter to look at the keys on the old register. “Very special. I doubt there are more than a handful of these still in service,” he said after a minute. “Thanks for your time,” he added, taking the three bags and walking toward the exit. “Oh, and Merry Christmas,” he called out, grinning and causing her insides to twist in a knot. In a good way.

She waved but didn’t return the sentiment. Lauren returned to the office, in a bit of a daze. She’d never had this kind of response to a strange man before. Or any man, if she were honest. Though it’d been more than apparent that he didn’t have any sort of reaction to her, other than amusement at the antiquated cash register.

She opened her laptop, intending to see if she had any e-mail, when it occurred to her she hadn’t looked at the name on the check. Racing out of the office, she took the check out of the drawer, then read the name:

JAG ENTERPRISES
METLIFE BUILDING
200 PARK AVENUE
NEW YORK, NEW YORK 10166

New York City? She looked at his signature, but it was illegible. “That’s lovely,” she said out loud, tossing the check on her desk. There wasn’t even a phone number. Odd, she thought, because all checks have phone numbers. Or is JAG Enterprises so upscale, they don’t feel they need a phone number on their checks?

It didn’t matter. The check was drawn on a major international bank, so she’d deposit it on her way home. If it bounced, she would deal with it.

Lauren returned to her e-mail account and saw that she had nine e-mails from Angela. All had been sent two hours earlier. “Doesn’t she know how to pick up the phone?”

Lauren took her cell phone out of her bag. No charge. No wonder Angela kept e-mailing. She dialed her office, using the store’s phone, and Angela picked up on the first ring. “I swear I couldn’t find the number for your little store, and your cell keeps going to voice mail. Listen, things have changed.”

“Okay,” she said. “Fill me in.” She raked a hand through her hair, loosening the tangles.

“I know the weather is still crappy there because I’ve been watching the Weather Channel.”

“Yep, it’s snowing.”