The Holiday Swap

by Maggie Knox

  She’d forgotten how picturesque Starlight Peak was, especially when it snowed. The building and storefronts were reminiscent of a German Christmas market, with twinkling lights lining peaked roofs and candles glowing in most windows. Gingerbread-style homes stretched along lamplit streets, and the cobblestoned town square was magical this time of year.

  Charlie sat on a bench facing the square’s outdoor skating rink, the chilly air refreshing. Then her stomach growled and she realized she had forgotten the square back at the bakery. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment as she willed her hunger away.

  “Cass?” Charlie’s eyes popped open.

  Oh. It was the hot firefighter. “Hi . . . Jake.” She was relieved when his name came to her. “What brings you out here tonight?”

  He pointed to the other end of the rink, smiling. “She does.”

  It was then Charlie saw the dog—a black Lab, who was running circles around the outdoor rink, giving happy little barks at every corner she turned.

  “Bonnie!” Jake called. The dog stopped immediately, ears perked. “Come!” Bonnie ran toward them faster than Charlie would have thought possible, given she was slightly overweight, and stopped right in front of Jake. She dutifully sat at his feet, her long pink tongue hanging out, her wagging tail making an angel’s wing in the snow. Jake pulled something out of his pocket and broke it in half, offering it to the dog. She sniffed it eagerly, then nudged his hand with her nose, refusing to take the treat.

  Jake laughed. “I know, girl. These treats suck,” he said. “But we needed the low-cal ones, remember?” He exaggerated his whisper, putting his other hand up to pretend to shield this fact from their audience: Charlie.

  Bonnie waited a second longer, then gingerly took the treat out of Jake’s hand and happily chomped down.

  “She’s adorable,” Charlie said, taking off one glove and reaching out to pet Bonnie’s head. “Does she—”

  But Charlie didn’t get her question out because at that moment Bonnie stole Charlie’s glove and started running around the ice rink with it in her mouth, as though she’d found the best treasure.

  “Bonnie!” Jake shouted. Then to Charlie, “I’m sorry. She’s a work in progress. Gloves and socks are her catnip.” He called for the dog again, this time with more authority. It worked, and Bonnie reluctantly carried back the glove, which she dropped at Jake’s feet when asked. He bent down to retrieve it and grimaced. “It’s a bit . . . soggy.”

  Charlie laughed, then stood up to take the glove from him. “Don’t worry,” she began. “I can just wash—” Suddenly it felt as though the ground had fallen out from under Charlie’s feet, like she herself flipped upside down. Completely off-balance, she stumbled. If not for Jake’s quick reflexes, she would have crumpled to the ground.

  Jake caught Charlie under her arms, supporting her weight. “Here, sit down.” He helped her back to the bench, then crouched in front of her, concern etched on his face.

  “Well, that was embarrassing,” Charlie said, trying to laugh it off. But she was still dizzy and was having trouble focusing on his face.

  Jake’s hand was on the back of her neck, gently pushing her forward. “Put your head between your knees,” he said. She did. She was mortified that she’d almost passed out in the town square but also felt too ill to really care. “Take some deep breaths.” Again, she complied.

  A minute later the dizziness began to recede. Apparently I need to take this whole concussion thing more seriously . . . She slowly sat back up and shivered slightly, although she wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold air or from Jake’s closeness. Bonnie licked Charlie’s bare hand. Jake chastised the dog, but Charlie smiled. “It’s okay. She’s a good girl.”

  “She does that when she’s worried about someone,” Jake said, and Charlie scratched Bonnie behind her ears.

  “I’m fine now,” she said to Bonnie, then looked over at Jake. “I’m okay, really. I didn’t have time to eat lunch today, and it was a really busy day. I just got a bit light-headed. Low blood sugar, I guess. Thank you, though. I’m glad you were here.”

  “Me, too,” Jake said. “Do you feel like you can stand up now?”

  “I think so.”

  He held her arms firmly as she stood, slowly, because while she felt better she wasn’t convinced the wave of dizziness wouldn’t return.

  “Okay?” he asked, watching her closely.

  “Yes,” she replied, bending to retrieve her other glove, which had fallen when Jake caught her.

  “I’ll get it,” Jake said, picking it up. He shook off the dusting of snow. As he did, Charlie felt a particular flutter in her stomach—something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  No. This wasn’t good. She had to stay focused on the parts of Cass’s life that needed her attention: the bakery, mostly. But also dealing with Brett, because his whole lovey-dovey act when he showed up at the bakery—plus, her brief conversation with Sharon earlier—suggested the situation was thornier than Cass had let on.

  “Thanks for saving me yet again. Between yesterday and tonight, you’re pretty much my hero.”

  “Anytime,” Jake said, his charming smile deepening.

  “Bye, Jake.” She started walking away.

  “Hey, Cass, hold up.” Charlie turned. “Do you want to finish Bonnie’s walk with me? Then after I drop her off at the station we can grab something to eat? Because it sounds like you need some food, and I haven’t had dinner yet, either.” He clipped the leash onto Bonnie’s collar.

  Charlie needed to get back to the bakery and figure out a plan to deal with Brett. But she also needed to eat. Jake saw her hesitation.

  “An hour tops,” he said. “Besides, it’s the least I can do to make up for the soaked-with-dog-drool glove thing.”

  “An hour I can do,” Charlie said, smiling wide as she fell into step with Jake and Bonnie.

  * * *

  • • •

  “Hey, Cass,” the server said, after Charlie and Jake were seated in a booth by the window of Peak Pub, one of the main gathering spots for the residents of Starlight Peak. Their server looked to be about Charlie’s mom’s age, with a short, graying pixie cut and bright pink lipstick. Charlie had never met this woman before, but clearly Cass knew her well enough. “The usual?”

  Charlie nodded, wondering what Cass’s “usual” was. “Sounds great.”

  “What’s the ‘usual’?” Jake asked, looking up from his menu to Charlie’s face. His green eyes were framed by long, dark amber lashes, and Charlie felt momentarily dazed.

  “Is it hot in here?” Charlie’s voice was too high, and her cheeks were warm. She fanned her face with the menu. “It feels hot.”

  “You need a water, Cass?” the server said.

  “Water. Yes. Thank you.” Why in the hell had she agreed to dinner? She should be keeping a low profile—and not knowing her sister’s usual order, when she was trying to play her sister, only made things more complicated. Charlie should be aiming for less complicated.

  “I’ll have whatever she’s having, Darla,” Jake said. Darla. Okay. At least Charlie knew her name now.

  “Two chilis and an order of pullaparts coming up. With a side of Starlight Red.”

  “Oh, thank you, Darla!” a truly grateful Charlie exclaimed. Then she smiled at Jake, still embarrassed. “I’m just really excited about the chili. It’s my favorite.”

  “Well, obviously. Apparently, you always order it.”

  It turned out Starlight Red was not a chili-topper condiment as Charlie had assumed, but pints of the local brew—ruddy colored in the pint glasses, a layer of foam on top, and a slice of orange speared on the glass’s edge.

  “Cheers,” Jake said, picking up his pint and leaning it toward Charlie. She did the same, and then took a sip of the beer. Charlie was unable to taste it, but the fizz of the beer tick
led her throat when she swallowed and, much to her embarrassment, she started to hiccup.

  “I’m sorry!” Charlie said between hiccups, laughing at herself. “I’m not really a beer drinker.” Her voice was muffled from the napkin she pressed to her lips to try and quiet the sound of the hiccupping.

  “But isn’t this part of the ‘usual’?” Jake asked, using his fingers to make air quotes as he said the word.

  “Right. Yes, it is.” Charlie swallowed down another hiccup and pushed her beer away. “I just need some food in me first. I’m really spacey today.” Soon Darla brought over glasses of ice water and Charlie took a long sip to try and quell the hiccups. She relaxed a little, and the hiccupping abated with another sip of water.

  “So, Jake. What do you do for fun around here when you aren’t schooling bakery owners on how to set timers so things don’t burn to the ground?”

  Jake chuckled. “Is that what I was doing?”

  There was a pause as they both smiled. Then Jake cleared his throat, took another sip of beer.

  “Let’s see, for fun . . . I take Bonnie for jogs. I spend a lot of time with my grandmother, as you know. She’s actually a pretty awesome roommate. We’re really compatible with our puzzle and Netflix preferences. Highly important details.” Charlie nodded, because she was supposed to be Cass, and of course Cass would know all of this. But Charlie wondered what the story was there, about how Jake came to live with his grandmother. At least she now knew for sure he didn’t live with anyone else, like a girlfriend. She felt buoyed by this realization—then reminded herself she wasn’t supposed to be falling for anyone right now. Even if he had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen . . .

  “Cass?”

  “Sorry. Just a bit distracted.” Charlie sat up straighter.

  “The blood sugar thing?” Jake asked.

  “That, yes . . . and the fact that I ruined a lot of loaves yesterday and had to stay up far too late tripling the recipe.” She scowled. “I don’t know how—”

  Charlie had been about to say, “I don’t know how Cass manages to do all of this without a website or online ordering . . .” but caught herself.

  “I think it’s time for a Web presence for the bakery,” she said instead. “I know it’s the way things have always been done, taking orders by phone, but it slows down the process. A website with online ordering would make things much more efficient.”

  “I could help you, if you want.”

  “How so?” Charlie asked. Jake seemed about to answer, but then Darla was back, placing the chilis in front of them, steam rising from the deep bowls. She then returned a moment later with the pullaparts, a circle of soft milk buns, dripping with butter and melted cheddar cheese. Charlie breathed in deeply through her nose, wishing she could smell all the mingling, comforting scents surely rising from their food—savory notes from the chili, a sweet aroma from the baked rolls, the garlicky butter sharp and mouthwatering. But there was nothing.

  Jake put a dollop of sour cream onto his chili, followed by some pepper flakes and ground black pepper, then picked up his spoon. But he stopped when he saw Charlie just staring into her bowl.

  “Something wrong with your chili?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Bon appétit!” Charlie also added some sour cream to her bowl, then took a large spoonful, feeling hopeful. But all she could feel was the sensation of the hot chili in her mouth. No flavors, no hint of spice. She forced down another spoonful, because she knew her body needed the food, even if it was unappetizing. After the second bite, her stomach grumbled happily.

  Jake offered her the plate of buns. “Thanks,” she said, taking one. “So, tell me more about how you can help. With the website?”

  “I could take pictures for you.”

  “You’re a photographer?” As if this guy could get any better, Charlie mused. She took a bite of the bun, the top crust shiny with melted butter. She was about to ask about his photography when she noticed Jake had stopped eating, his spoon poised above his chili.

  “What?” Charlie asked, taking another bite of the garlic bun. Her fingers dripped with butter, and she used a paper napkin to wipe away the grease. If only she could taste what she was eating.

  Jake looked at her strangely, placing his spoon back in the bowl. “You know I do photography, Cass,” he said. “I’ve been taking photos for Brett’s listings. For house stagings?” Then he shook his head. “Sorry, maybe he hasn’t mentioned it? I sort of assumed . . .” Jake seemed uncomfortable bringing up Brett, and Charlie tried to catch up.

  “No, of course. Staging photos. Yes. I just—”

  This second embarrassing moment of the evening was interrupted by the sound of her sister’s name being called across the bar. She looked up: it was Brett, standing by the door. Why was he always showing up at the worst times?

  Brett approached their table, his cheeks colored by the cold, his hair perfectly gelled in place, a neutral plaid scarf meticulously tied around his neck. “What are you two doing?”

  Charlie opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Jake stood and gave Brett’s hand a shake. “Want to join us?” he asked.

  “No thanks, I’ve got some work to do.” Brett glanced at Charlie. “Hey, babe, I was trying to call you, but it went to voicemail. A bunch of times.”

  “Oh really?” His use of the term babe grated at her nerves. Charlie suspected Cass had turned off her phone because of Brett’s incessant calling, but knew she had to offer an explanation on the spot. “Yeah, my phone is dead. I haven’t had a chance to charge it. The bakery has been nonstop.”

  Brett frowned. “Hmm. Well, I don’t like not being able to get a hold of you.” Charlie gave him a wan smile, not liking his proprietary tone.

  “I was going to pick us up some take-out, but it looks like you’re all set.” Brett gestured to the dishes on the table, eyebrows raised. Cass had said she and Brett had broken up, hadn’t she? So why did her sister’s ex seem to think getting take-out for the two of them made any sense?

  “Yup, all set.” Charlie smiled again at Brett, then at Jake, who didn’t seem to know where to look. Then she picked up her spoon and took another bite of her chili.

  “Can we talk later?” Brett said quietly to Charlie, his eyes flicking to Jake. But before she could answer, Brett’s assured smile was back. He raised a hand and waved at Darla, who was loading takeaway packages into a paper bag.

  “Guess I’ll have leftovers for tomorrow,” Brett said. He put his gloves back on before taking the bag from Darla, flashing a smile that looked forced. “Enjoy your dinner, you two.”

  “Will do!” Charlie said brightly. Brett stared at her a moment longer, no longer smiling. Charlie held his gaze, waiting for him to be the first to look away, which he finally did before heading back out the door.

  “Well, that was awkward,” Charlie murmured.

  “Look, Cass. I hope I didn’t just make things worse?” Jake said, looking sheepish. “I heard the two of you broke up, but I promise my only intention tonight was to fix your blood sugar issue.”

  “It’s fine, honestly.” Charlie felt a moment of disappointment at his words, but then raised an eyebrow. “Wait . . . heard we broke up from whom?”

  “Sharon, actually. I bumped into her earlier.” Jake winced slightly. “Sorry, I know it’s really none of my business.”

  “Or Sharon’s,” Charlie grumbled. “And we did break up, but it seems one of us is less willing to accept it.”

  Jake set his spoon down and gave her a small smile. “Hey, I know we don’t know each other all that well, but I am a great listener. At least that’s what Bonnie tells me.”

  “I hope this doesn’t come out the wrong way, and thank you for the offer, but honestly? I don’t want to talk about it. I just can’t,” Charlie said. She really couldn’t talk about it, because she wasn’t sure exactly what had transpired betwe
en her sister and Brett. “So, change of topic? Anything else. Like photos for the bakery, so we can get a website up and running.”

  “Absolutely,” Jake replied, seeming relieved. He pointed at her still-full pint glass. “You going to finish that?”

  “Knock yourself out,” Charlie said, pushing it across the table. She clinked her water glass to the beer glass and took a sip before pulling a pen out of her purse. She felt herself unwind as they started brainstorming ideas on a napkin; Jake had lots of creative ideas, like adding links to the photographs.

  “All customers will have to do is click on a dessert to order it,” he said, while she scribbled away, grateful they’d run into each other earlier. He was turning out to be an unexpected bright spot in Charlie’s turbulent last few days, and if she could keep their relationship professional everything would be fine.

  Then she reached for her glass again at the same time Jake reached for his, and her fingers brushed his. A spark of electricity crackled between them, and as their eyes met Charlie knew he felt it, too. Oh no, she thought. We could have a problem here.

  7

  Cass

  Thursday: 9 Days Until Christmas . . .

  Los Angeles

  Sweat trickled down the back of Cass’s fifties-style halter-neck sateen dress as she worked alongside Sydney on their recipe for the day’s Sweet & Salty challenge. Cass had arrived that morning with yet another crumpled recipe in hand—and had had to admit to her assistant that, at the moment, there was no file of recipes for the rest of the week. “I’m sorry,” Cass had said, struggling to think of a plausible excuse. “I was a little behind already, and then I got injured, and I just—I messed up. The recipes aren’t ready. We’re going to have to work on the fly until—” Until my sister finally gets back to me and sends us what we need to get through this week. “Until I get caught up. Meanwhile, I think I came up with something pretty delicious last night. And maybe we can have some fun together, being spontaneous? Like real pastry chefs?” Sydney’s smile had faltered then and Cass realized she’d said the wrong thing. “I mean—We are real pastry chefs. Just . . .”