“You made those? I thought—”
“That your girlfriend made them? I know. I heard you thank her. She knew it was me at the time, but I guess she didn’t feel like it was important to give credit where credit was due.”
“Maddy, I—”
“Then there was Theo’s party the summer after your freshman year of college. I was older, a senior, and even though I’d mostly gotten over you by then, when I heard you were back in town and coming to the party, I wondered if you’d finally notice me. See that I’d grown up.”
“Maddy, stop. That was high school—”
“I might as well have been invisible, Bo.”
“That’s not fair. I barely even remember that party.”
“But I do remember. You looked right past me. You always looked right past me.”
He put his hands on his hips, his posture defensive, though his eyes were still filled with warmth. “But I see you right now. Doesn’t that count for something?”
I huffed a laugh. “I’m the only other person in the room. Of course you see me. But that won’t always be the case. We won’t live life inside a bubble, Bo. There will be other people, other women, women who look like Sophia, who know how to demand attention and get what they want.”
“Maddy, Sophia doesn’t mean anything to me. She never did.”
“I have a good life in Chicago, Bo. I have a friend who needs me and a job where I’m seen and appreciated. It isn’t in the plan for me to leave it.”
Bo folded his arms across his chest. “Not in the plan, huh? Do things always have to be in the plan?”
I narrowed my eyes. “It’s worked for me so far.”
He shrugged. “I don’t buy it. It seems to me like you’re working really hard to convince yourself there’s nothing going on between us, that what we’re feeling isn’t real.”
“It’s not that simple. We had our chance, and it never worked out. Maybe that’s because it wasn’t supposed to.” I checked my phone one more time. I’d already said too much. Bo was getting dangerously close to personality flaws I’d rather not face anywhere but in my therapist’s office. Could my Uber driver not go any faster?
“We had high school, Maddy. That’s hardly a real chance,” Bo said. The emotion in his eyes was nearly enough to break me and send me running into his arms.
But I’d already made my decision. It was too late to back out now.
“You know what I think?” He took a step forward. “I think you’re running scared. What I can’t decide is if you’re running from me, or from the chance to live something bigger, to actually try to live your dreams. Come on.” He reached for my hand. “Take a risk, Mads.”
My phone dinged letting me know my Uber had arrived. I shook my head. “That’s easy for you to say. When you take risks, things work out. But I spent too long as the invisible girl trying and failing to catch your attention. I can’t just up-end my life because you suddenly remembered what my name is.”
“That’s a little harsh.”
I wheeled my suitcase to the front door before turning to face him. “This was a really good Christmas. Honestly, it felt like spending a week inside of a Hallmark movie. But it isn’t real life.”
“Why not?” Bo said. “It could be.” He shot me a wry grin. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way, remember?”
I left my suitcase and crossed to where he stood, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “Thanks for everything, Bo.”
Later, in the backseat of the Uber, I wiped a tear from my cheek, trying my best to ignore the doubt and the guilt swirling around inside me.
What if Bo was right?
What if I really was just running away?
***
Jenna and Costa arrived home just a few hours after I did. After a goodbye kiss between them that deserved to be on television, Costa left Jenna to me, promising to pick us up the next afternoon in time to help him decorate for the party.
After an adequate amount of time devoted to squealing over her gorgeous engagement ring and a rundown of the wedding dates and plans they’d already decided on, Jenna leaned back onto the sofa, her face glowing with happiness.
“Tell me about your Christmas,” she said. “How’s your family?”
I sighed. “My family’s in Hawaii.”
Jenna’s eyes widened. “What? You didn’t just spend Christmas with them?”
I grabbed a pillow off the sofa and pulled it into my lap. “It’s a long story.” I hesitated. “But there’s kissing, so maybe you want to hear the whole thing?”
“Oh, you know it,” Jenna said. “But hold up. We need food for this part.”
“We have no food. The apartment is totally empty.”
Jenna stood up and smiled. “Luckily, I brought home baklava.”
Twenty minutes later, I’d eaten three pieces of the best baklava I’d ever tasted and given Jenna a play-by-play of my entire Christmas week with Bo.
“I just don’t understand,” Jenna said. She licked the last of her piece of baklava off her finger. “You didn’t even talk about your relationship?”
I shook my head. “I mean, we kind of talked around it. But I was so disappointed when he brought up the possibility of me renting his kitchen. After that, I didn’t want to talk about it. What had I expected? That he’d ask me to marry him and let me use it for free?”
“Is that what you expected?” Jenna asked.
“Not logically, but it was so hard to sort out how I actually felt. My new feelings for Bo were completely muddled up with my old ones. The scary thing is that if he’d actually asked me to marry him and move home to Charleston? I’d have probably said yes. And realizing that terrified me. That I was so willing to just give up on everything I’ve made of myself.”
Jenna shot me a sideways look. “Okay, but that would be a more compelling argument if the life you’ve made for yourself was one you actually liked.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, come on. You’ve never really been happy living here.”
My jaw dropped. “That’s not true at all. I love Chicago.”
She rolled her eyes. “A lot of people think they love Chicago. And maybe they do for nine months out of the year. But it takes a very gritty, usually Illinois-born and bred person to love Chicago all year long. You hate the cold, Maddy. And the snow. And you complain about your job all the time and you watch more baking shows than any one person actually should and doodle Maddy’s Bakery logos when you think no one’s watching. You can’t convince me you’re living your dream right now.”
“I do . . .” Okay, so I did do all those things. But that didn’t mean . . . well, I didn’t know what it didn’t mean.
“Maddy, maybe it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. You don’t have to move home just to be with Bo. You also don’t have to marry him just to use his kitchen. What if you move home because you aren’t loving Chicago and now you’ve got a good business opportunity to do something that you’ve always wanted to do? If you and Bo date and fall in love, well, that’s a bonus, right?”
She made it sound so easy. She and Bo would probably get along.
“It just feels so complicated. I can’t stop thinking about all the times he didn’t see me, you know? I thought I was over it, but I think being around him . . . I think my feelings are still hurt a little.”
“I get it,” Jenna said. “I think mine would be too. But I’m sure he wasn’t the only teenage boy who failed to see past the nose on his own face. And I think those feelings would fade, don’t you? If you kept spending time together?”
I reached for another piece of baklava, momentarily distracted by whether or not I thought it was something I could make. I’d never tried and suddenly had a desire to figure it out. “Maybe,” I finally said. “But where would I even start?”
Jenna smiled. “You just did start. The first step is acknowledging that it’s even a possibility. You can write a new plan, Maddy. You can write a hundred different p
lans and throw them all out until you find the one that actually works. If this is something you want, the bakery, and the man, you just have to keep trying.”
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” I said softly.
“Exactly!”
“That’s what Bo told me, too.”
“I think I like Bo.”
I nodded. “You’d love Bo. You guys are a lot alike, actually.”
She stood up and stretched. “Then you definitely need him in your life.”
“What I need is sleep. Especially if I’m going to your party tomorrow night.”
“True, true,” Jenna said. “Rest up because you aren’t allowed to leave until at least three a.m.” She scooped up the trash from our baklava binge and carried it to the kitchen.
“I have no idea how we’re friends,” I said, following behind her.
She turned and grinned. “I know exactly why we’re friends. I remind you to have fun and you remind me to be reasonable. It’s a perfect balance.”
I thought about Sophia’s words about Bo, about how he’d been so terrible for her. I believed it, but maybe she’d been wrong about the next part.
Maybe Bo was exactly what I needed.
Chapter Ten
The party was loud. Almost too loud. At least for my sensible ears. But I’d never seen Jenna happier. I’d endure anything for her.
The club had a spacious dance floor on the main level, with a second-floor balcony that lined the perimeter of the room. The balcony was full of tables, with a round booth in each corner. Just past eleven, I snuck off to an empty booth where the noise was slightly more muted. The sparkly cocktail dress Jenna had insisted I wear made my maneuvering slightly awkward, but I did my best, shimmying and sliding until I was comfortably in the booth. I pulled my phone out of my bag, noticing I’d missed three calls and the same number of texts from my sister.
Suddenly anxious, I called her back, pressing the phone to my ear in an effort to drown out the noise.
She answered after the first ring. “Maddy?”
“Hey! Sorry I missed your calls. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. I can barely hear you though. Where are you?”
“It’s New Year’s Eve, Chloe. I’m at a party.”
“What? Why? You don’t go to parties.”
I pressed the phone even closer and plugged my other ear with a finger. “It’s Jenna’s engagement party. I’m at her fiancé’s club.”
“Ah, got it. Costa’s, right? That’s what it’s called? The one on Belmont?”
“Yes, but why are you asking? Are you in Chicago?”
“Don’t go anywhere, all right? For at least—” The music below me blared and the crowd cheered, blocking out Chloe’s voice.
“Are you there?” I asked, but Chloe had ended the call. I stared at my phone dumbly, wondering what the conversation could have met. As far as I knew, my family was still in Hawaii. Why did Chloe care about the address of Costa’s club?
Either way, I wasn’t going anywhere, at least not for another hour. Hopefully, that was long enough for . . . whatever reason Chloe had for asking me not to leave.
Fifteen minutes later, I stood next to the bar, trying my hardest to convince Jenna I was unequivocally not up for a double date with her and Costa and his cousin who had flown in for New Year’s.
“I just need a minute to catch my breath,” I said, practically yelling to be heard over the music. Why did the music have to be so loud? “After Bo . . .” My words trailed off as my eyes locked on the man who had just entered the club. I gripped Jenna’s arm. “That’s him.”
She followed my gaze. “That’s who?”
“That’s Bo.” What was he doing in Chicago?
“Don’t go anywhere, okay?” I said to Jenna. “I want you to meet him.”
I made my way across the club, rounding the side of the room and coming up beside Bo before he’d managed to spot me. “Bo!” I called when I was close enough for him to hear me.
He turned and smiled, and he moved through the crowd to where I stood. He looked good. So good. He wore a suit—had I ever seen Bo in a suit?—and a light blue tie. It was so different from the casual farming look I was used to, but he pulled it off with what looked like effortless ease.
He stopped right in front of me and pushed his hands into his pockets. “Hi.”
I lunged forward and wrapped my arms around him. It had only been a couple of days since I’d last seen him, but I’d missed him—a realization made abundantly clear by just how thrilled I was to have him in my arms. “What are you doing here?” I asked, my lips close to his ear.
He pulled back from the hug but kept his hands on my waist. “I needed to see you.” He shook his head. “I didn’t like how we left things.”
A beat of courage pulsed through me and I smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Bo glanced around the club. “Can we talk somewhere?”
I bit my lip. One of the booths upstairs would be a little bit quieter, but I didn’t want to have to strain and fight the music to hear what Bo had to say.
“Come on.” I gestured toward the bar. “I think I know a place.”
We made it back to Jenna just as Costa joined her, which made my request even easier to make. After quick introductions, and several excited looks from Jenna, I caught Costa’s eye. “Hey, we need to talk for a few minutes. Think we can use your office?”
He grinned and winked then tossed me his keys. “It’s the blue one. Just lock it up when you leave.”
I kept Bo’s hand in mine as we crossed behind the bar and down the narrow hallway that led to the club’s offices. I unlocked Costa’s, flipping on the light before finally shutting the door and reducing the booming noise of the club to a dull roar.
“This is some party,” Bo said.
“Jenna doesn’t do anything by halves. She loves this kind of thing. The noisier the better.”
“Chloe said this was their engagement party? Do they know all these people?”
“So that’s why Chloe called,” I said.
Bo smiled. “I told her to be discreet. I wanted to surprise you, but Chicago’s a big city. I figured it might take me a while if I just wandered around looking for you at random.”
“She didn’t tell me anything,” I said. “Just asked me where I was and then told me not to leave.”
“That had to leave you with questions.”
I nodded. “Definitely. But . . . I didn’t expect you.”
Bo stepped closer and reached for both of my hands. His thumbs traced slow circles across my knuckles before he looked up and met my gaze. “I need to say some things.”
I swallowed, my heart rate tripling its speed. “Okay.”
“At my eighth-grade graduation, the sixth-grade chorus sang a song. I don’t remember what the song was, something cheesy and dumb, I’m sure, but I remember that you were there. Your hair was long, tied up with a white ribbon and hanging down your back. You waved at me as the chorus took the stage, and the kid next to me elbowed me in the ribs and asked me if I had a girlfriend. I don’t remember what I said in response—it was probably something stupid—but I do remember the heat that filled my chest at the thought. You were a girl. And a pretty one. And I had no idea what to do with that realization. You’d always just been Maddy from next door.”
He remembered the ribbon I’d had tied in my hair?
“A few years later, you started high school,” Bo said. “I remember the day Mom told me I was going to be giving you a ride to school every morning. I fought her on it. Told her I didn’t want to have to cart a freshman around, but the truth is, I was terrified of spending time with you alone. Because you were different. Poised. Elegant. In control. You were everything that I wasn’t. And I didn’t know how to process that. I was a stupid kid, Maddy, and in my eyes? You were way out of my league.”
I shook my head. “That’s impossible.”
“First day of my senior year, you wor
e a blue sweater. You got in the truck mumbling something about stupid Charleston weather and how you worried you’d be too hot wearing a sweater at the end of August—”
“It was an admittedly dumb choice,” I said, cutting into his story. “It was still ninety degrees every day. I roasted in that sweater.”
Bo chuckled. “All I remember is that it made your eyes look really blue and your freckles stand out.”
I shook my head. “You noticed that?”
“I knew you were something special, Maddy, but that morning, you sat across from me talking about your schedule. AP this, and AP that, and all the different clubs you were a part of. You had a University of Illinois sticker on your notebook—you’d already decided that’s where you wanted to go. You had plans and brains and . . .” He shrugged. “And I was a stupid kid who was excited about partying my way through four years at Clemson so I could work on a farm. I saw you, Maddy. You were never invisible. But I was a dumb kid who liked being the coolest kid in a room. That was a lot easier when I played to the crowd and surrounded myself with other dumb kids.”
“Bo, you weren’t dumb.”
“I’m not dumb now,” Bo amended. “But I was then. It took way too many years of partying and goofing off for me to figure out that being a grown-up and using the brains in my head was infinitely more satisfying.”
I could hardly process what he was telling me. His view of our high school experience was so completely opposite from mine.
“You were too good for me, Mads. Too good for the partying, the pretending. And I knew that. That you were too far out of my league.”
“I wasn’t, though. I loved you, Bo. I would have—”
“You would have been disappointed, Maddy. You loved me from a distance, but had you spent time with me up close? You would have been disappointed.”
I took a step back and dropped his hands, suddenly feeling a tiny bit frustrated that he was only telling me this now. “Why didn’t you tell me? Not then, but now. This past week. You had plenty of opportunities.”
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