The Nine Lives of Christmas by Sheila Roberts Page A

creature was an animal hater? How could Mr. Carlyle have such an awful daughter?
    “Well, you didn’t value me,” snapped the woman. “She was simply awful, Father. A woman like that makes a poor ambassador for the store.”
    And a woman like you makes a poor ambassador for women . Merilee kept her lips pressed tightly together.
    “Is what I’m hearing true?” asked Mr. Carlyle.
    There was no point pretending she didn’t know what he was talking about. She knew. They all knew.
    “I’m afraid we had a misunderstanding,” said Merilee, opting for diplomacy even though she was wishing she had claws and could give the woman another scratch to match the one she’d gotten from the poor, scared cat.
    “Is that what you call it?” sniped the woman.
    Mr. Carlyle’s frown dipped further south. “Merilee, you know the customer is always right. Sometimes we encounter people when they’re not having the best of days, but it’s not our job to judge them.”
    Merilee could feel her cheeks sizzling. “Yes, Mr. Carlyle,” she murmured.
    “I’m afraid you should have been more understanding,” he chided.
    “It won’t happen again,” she said, almost choking on the words.
    “No, it won’t because I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go. We simply can’t have our employees insulting our customers.”
    Or our daughter . This was wrong and unfair. “Mr. Carlyle,” Merilee began.
    “We will give you two weeks’ severance,” Mr. Carlyle said, his voice hard. “I’ll have Mrs. Olsen send you a check. Please clean out your locker.”
    Next to him, Daughter of Scrooge looked on, her self-righteous expression adding, “That’ll teach you.”
    “Yes sir,” said Merilee. Face flaming she turned and managed, somehow, to find her way to the door—not an easy task considering the grim image she was envisioning: herself standing on a snowy corner, begging for money. What oh what was she going to do?
    “What will you do?” asked Kate, who was now taking her break in the employees’ lunchroom where the lockers were located.
    Merilee swiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”
    “Gosh, right before Christmas. What a rotten thing to do!”
    Yes, it was rotten. But when a girl decided on a verbal smackdown with the boss’s daughter, rotten was all she could expect to get for Christmas. You brought it on yourself .
    Still, it had been so wrong to blame that poor cat for simply acting like a cat. Of all the nerve!
    What business had it been of hers? Really?
    Anytime an animal suffered it was somebody’s business, and the way that woman had been carrying on the poor animal’s future hadn’t looked good.
    Sigh. She was the Superwoman of cats. It would be nice if she could develop some super powers on her own behalf.
    “I wish I knew of something,” said Kate.
    “I’ll be okay,” Merilee said. “I’ve been volunteering at the shelter and I know they’ve got a part-time opening. I’m sure they’ll hire me.”
    “Part-time anywhere probably pays as good as full-time here.”
    It beat starving anyway, and since there was no Prince Charming rushing to the rescue it would have to do until the new year.
    Kate came over and laid a hand on her arm. “When I said what I said down there, about somebody’s head rolling, I never thought it would be yours. It’s because of what happened Saturday, isn’t it?
    Too miserable to speak, Merilee nodded.
    Kate frowned. “She’ll get hers someday. Meanwhile, if you need anything, call me. Okay?”
    What she needed was a job and Kate couldn’t help her there. She murmured her thanks, then topped her small pile of belongings with her lunch sack, said her good-byes, and left Pet Palace.
    A leaden sky pelted her with sleeting rain as she crossed the parking lot, a final cosmic “Neener, neener” sending her on her way.
    She got into her car and cranked up the music as high as possible, determined to stave off self-pity