Misfortune: Christmas With Scrooge by Peggy Ann Craig Read Free Book Online Page B

bathroom had plumbing problems. On top of
all that, winter was coming and the cold months ahead would drive
the thermostat higher. Which meant Laura could face higher medical
bills rather than heating bills if all the girls came down with
illnesses.
    She simply had to find someone who felt her
shelter was worthy of an investment. She attempted, thus far,
without any luck. Six companies turned her down flat. Tomorrow she
had an appointment with the seventh. She crossed her fingers,
praying her fortune would turn.
     
    * * *
     
    The following day, Laura drove into the
business sector of Bracebridge and parked in front of a tall-story
building. Gazing up at the blue and white sign, she read Britten
Investment and Financial Group. She had an awful forbidding ache in
the pit of her stomach, but immediately quenched it remembering the
innocent faces of the teenage girls at the shelter. Straightening
her shoulders, she crossed the cement walkway leading to the
entrance of the building.
    Immediately in the entrance was a huge
circular desk with an elegant woman somewhere in her late forties
seated behind it. Laura approached the receptionist with as much
professionalism as she could project, and announced herself. “My
name is Laura Witherow. I have an appointment with Mr. Virgil
Britten.”
    The older woman smiled politely up at her.
“If you go down this hall to the right, there is a set of
elevators. Take them up to the tenth floor. You'll be expected
there.”
    She thanked the woman then followed her
directions. The corridor floor was long and elegantly fashioned in
red marble with large black diamond eyes peering up at her. Its
surface so smooth, Laura found herself carefully watching her step
hoping her pumps would not give way from underneath her.
    After she rounded a bend of wild ferns she
came across the full-length mirrored covered elevators doors.
Taking the opportunity, Laura quickly checked her reflection for
any untidiness before pressing the red button glowing against the
wall.
    Up on the tenth floor she was faced with a
long carpeted hallway, lined with offices, stretching both ways
across the elevators. With surprising assuredness she turned right
down the hall, recalling a time before when a decision to turn left
landed her on the rocky edge of a ravine.
    She was startled at the unexpected
comparison. It had been a long time since she thought about that
incident. A time she kept firmly in the back of her mind. Dexter
O'Reilly was a man she cared not to think of twice. After the
accident, she had more than her share of thoughts of him.
    Many, many times she had an urge to drive by
the Sunny Meadows grocery just to get a glimpse of him. She
convinced herself it was simply to thank him for rescuing her and
closing that chapter of her life. She even went so far as going
into the shop one day. A quick perusal brought up no familiar faces
so she quickly snatched up a head of lettuce, purchased it, then
swiftly fled from the store. She never returned since.
    Since then she firmly set the man and the
incident from her mind. He had not wanted her gratitude and so
Laura simply had to accept this, whether she agreed or not. She
wasted enough time in her life she wasn't about to waste anymore.
Chasing down a man who obviously did not want to be chased would
have been fruitless.
    She needed to do something productive and
begin to see results immediately. With the shelter, it had done
just that. It gave her great satisfaction to know she was able to
help young teenagers who, otherwise, could end up on the streets
doing only God knew what. This way she gave them not only shelter
but safety from a harsh world that preyed on young vulnerable
girls.
    The corridor suddenly opened up to a large
room lined with office desks and computers. She doubted she made
the right turn after all, but at least here were faces and someone
to direct her to Virgil Britten's office.
    A young woman, not older than Laura herself,
looked up as Laura