Her Festive Baby Bombshell

Some wanted to switch the Project Santa packaging to gift bags to cut costs. Others wanted to make the content more meaningful—something that wouldn’t just entertain but help the recipient.

“Gentlemen.” Finn’s face was creased with stress lines. “This was all decided long ago. It’s too late to change our plans. The gift boxes are strategically packed according to the location of each child.”

Mr. McMurray leaned forward. “And how do we know these packages will get to the children?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that a lot of these outreach programs are fronts for scams.” Mr. Caruso, a gray-haired man, crossed his arms. “What if they steal them?”

“I hear your concerns. That’s why some of my best Lockwood employees will escort each shipment to their destination. They are each tasked with making sure the packages get to their intended targets.”

There was a murmur of voices. Holly noticed that Finn wasn’t happy with the distractions, but he patiently let the men voice their concerns before they moved on to the reason for this meeting.

“Gentlemen, we need to address the problem we have with the lack of transportation now that Fred has suddenly pulled out.”

Thanks to her research, Holly knew Fred Silver owned a delivery company that spanned the globe. As she listened to the men, she learned a federal raid on a number of Fred’s distribution centers put his whole company in peril. It seemed Fred didn’t have enough controls in place and the cartel got a foothold in his distribution routes. What a mess.

“Without Fred, I don’t see how it’s possible to complete Project Santa.” Mr. Wallace shook his bald head in defeat.

“I agree.” Mr. McMurray leaned back in his chair. “It’s already December. It’s too late to fix this.”

The other men nodded in agreement.

Mr. Caruso stared at Finn. “But we still have all of the books, toys and whatnot already allocated to this project. What do we do with it all?”

The men started talking at once. Voices were raised as each tried to talk over the other. Holly found it amusing that these men, who were well-respected in their own worlds, had a tough time playing nice with their peers. Each thought they had the right answer. And none wanted to stop and consider the other’s perspective.

“Gentlemen!” Finn leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. A hush fell over the room. “I think we need some coffee.”

Finn glanced at Holly, prompting her into motion. She moved to grab the coffeepot with one hand and in the other she picked up a tray of pastries. As she headed for the table, each man settled back in their chair as though gathering their thoughts.

Holly pasted on her best and brightest smile. “Mr. Wallace, can I get you some coffee?”

The deep-set frown melted from the man’s face and in its place was the beginning of a smile. “Why, yes, coffee sounds good.”

She turned the coffee cup upright on the saucer and started to fill it. “I think what you all have come together to do is amazing. Project Santa will give hope to so many children.” And then she had an idea. “And it will be such great publicity for your companies.”

“Publicity.” Mr. Wallace shook his head. “There’s to be no publicity. Is that what Finn told you?”

“No, he didn’t. I just presumed—obviously incorrectly.” She was utterly confused. She’d missed something along the way. “Why then are all of you working so hard on this project when you each have global companies to tend to?”

They leaned back in their chairs as though contemplating her question. That was exactly what she was hoping would happen—that they’d remember why they were here and not give up. In the meantime, she served coffee for everyone.

“Finn should have told you.” Mr. Santos reached for the creamer in the center of the table. “We each have so much that we wanted to do something to help those who have had a rough start in life. And with this being the season of giving, Finn came up with this idea. If we can make it work, it might be the beginning of something bigger.”

“That sounds fantastic.” Holly smiled, hoping to project her enthusiasm. “Too bad you can’t make it work—you know, now that Mr. Silver isn’t able to participate. I’m sure it’s too big of a problem for you men to work around at this late date. Those poor children.”