One Complicated Christmas

by Ciara Knight

  Tap. Clip. Tap. Clip.

  “Stop. Are you going to cost me my job? Is that what you want? You’re working an angle. I know you too well, Seth Mason. Don’t do this. I don’t want to play your game.”

  “Are you going to meet me someplace to talk besides here, where we can be overheard?”

  “No.”

  He stepped away from me and spoke loud and clear for all to hear. “Then I guess I will just have to tell you here and now.”

  Tap. Clip. Tap. Clip. Tap. Clip.

  Silence.

  “Meet me tonight for dinner.” His voice echoed through the kitchen and undoubtedly into the dining room and the lurking Frank.

  Margie entered the kitchen, waving her arms in warning, but instead of making me behave, I saw that she was the answer to my prayers. “I can’t. I have a date. Margie, you confirmed the reservation for us, tonight at seven, right?”

  Thank goodness Margie always followed my lead and had a champion poker face. “Yes, at Blacktail Base Bistro.”

  He smiled, as if he’d heard the punchline of my dating life.

  Tap. Clip. Tap. Clip. Tap. Clip.

  “I’ll be here at 4:00 p.m. tomorrow. We will review the menu then. I’d also like you to accompany me to Christmas Mountain to assist in planning for you to cater a special treat bar after a hike and shopping trip,” Seth said loud enough for Frank to overhear as he entered.

  He flipped his hairs over to the side and smiled. “That sounds like a marvelous idea. I’d be happy to work on a Saturday to help with the organization.”

  “I’m afraid I need you here to take a meeting with my coworker at 7:00 p.m. She’ll want to add some additional services to the event. I told her you were the man in charge, so I’m sure you’ll want to take that meeting.”

  She? My stomach tightened.

  “Yes, of course.” Frank appeared to buy his explanation, but I knew better.

  Seth stopped at nothing to get what he wanted. What he thought he deserved in life. And apparently he had decided it was a long overdue conversation with me.

  He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “I’ll count the snowflakes until I see you Saturday.”

  Chapter 3

  The evening air was damp, so I dressed warm and comfortable for my date. I untied my apron and set the last of the dishes into the cabinet, making sure that all the cup handles were facing the right direction so they were easy to pull out as needed. Then I grabbed my purse.

  “You’re wearing that for a date?” Margie gave me that you’re-not-even-trying upturn of her lips.

  “It’s cold outside.” I brushed off a crumb that had clung to the cuff of my sleeve and then slid my arms into my full-length coat and flung my purse strap over my shoulder.

  Margie crossed her arms over her chest. “Turtleneck, long skirt, and boots are hardly first-date attire. I know you only agreed to this blind date because you were trying to deflect Seth, but maybe you should give Donald a chance. He seems like a nice guy.”

  “I’m going to. Promise.” I headed for the door. “I better go if I’m going to be on time. Thanks for dealing with my mother’s housekeeper.”

  “Actually, Donald called me three times trying to change the restaurant to the club or some other five-star place.”

  I stopped short of the door. “What did you say?”

  “Don’t worry. I told him you would have to cancel if he changed the location since you would be working too late to make it to the other side of the mountain.”

  “Thanks. No way I’m going to the club. I’d run into mother for sure, and I’ve had enough unwanted visitors today.” I picked a stray piece of lint off the arm of my coat.

  Margie opened her mouth to say something but then closed it. I didn’t ask because I knew it would be about Seth, this blind date, or my mother. “Go home and get some rest. It’s only a couple of weeks until the lodge opens for the season.”

  “Gladly. And have fun and be nice.” She emphasized the word nice as if I would be rude. I only reserved rudeness for meddling mothers and bosses.

  “I’ll be the perfect lady and give Danny my undivided attention.” I curtsied.

  Margie huffed and put a hand on her hip. “Really?”

  “What?”

  “His name is Donald, not Danny.”

  I pushed open the door. “Right. Right. Got it. See you tomorrow.” Before Margie had a chance to scold me on my vow not to date, I bolted to the shuttle pickup, where Hector waited for me. “Thanks for giving me a lift down. I know the shuttle shouldn’t be running for a couple more weeks.” I hopped into the oversize van and settled into the seat behind Hector.

  “Ever think about getting a car?” he said. “Maybe you’d actually go somewhere besides your kitchen once in a while if you had one.”

  “No need. We have the shuttle, and I can rent a car whenever I need to go somewhere. Besides, why pay for something if I don’t need it?”

  Hector slipped the gear into drive, and the brakes squealed all the way down the mountain. “I hear Seth’s back.”

  I cringed. Lodge gossip spread faster than in the small town of Christmas Mountain where I’d grown up. “He’s here on business.”

  The mountain road grumbled underneath us, and the lights of Blacktail below sparkled with the promise of a nice evening. Perhaps I did need to open my mind to the possibility of moving on with my dating life.

  Hector flipped up the turn signal and guided the van onto the side road that would lead us to the restaurant. “Right, because a tycoon hotel owner needs to host an event at Pine Tree Lodge.”

  “He used to come here each year since he was a kid, so why not?” I argued, but I knew he had a point. A point I didn’t want to face.

  “You keep telling yourself that.” Hector pulled into the drive of Blacktail Base Bistro. “Of course, I tell myself all the time that someday I’ll be a famous musician, yet I haven’t booked anything since coming to the lodge to work as a driver and maintenance man.” He shut off the engine. “You want me to wait until you give Danny the brush-off?”

  “Why does everyone think I won’t give this guy a chance? And his name is Donald, not Danny.”

  “I know that, but will you remember?” Hector winked. His dark Italian brow wiggled like rigatoni.

  I slid open the van door and hurried inside to avoid any more judgement from my lodge family. Candles sparkled around the room, casting golden images on the burgundy walls in hand-cut snowflake patterns. The aroma of Italian spices mixed with cinnamon accents filled the air with the promise of both savory and sweet delicious food.

  A well-dressed, good-looking, tall man stood from a corner table and lifted his arms, extending two fingers into the air. That had to be Donald, er…Danny…no. Ugh. I walked over and opted for a general greeting to avoid any embarrassing name slips. “Good evening. I’m Emma Winters.”

  His eyes grew wide, and he took my hand but didn’t stop there. He moved in for a full-on kiss-to-the-cheek greeting. Okay, he had some game. I cringed but tried not to show it since I didn’t want him to think I didn’t like him. I just wasn’t the kissing-a-stranger kind of person, so I moved to my side of the table and settled into my seat.

  “So, your mother says you cook at a hotel?” Donald asked.

  Oh no, not the mother convo. Okay, straight into the getting-to-know you part of the date. I’d give him a little guidance down the small talk road with a sharp right turn away from Mother’s Way. “I’m the head chef, actually.”

  “Well, maybe next time I can take you to Le Boucher. I know Chef Boucher. He trained in Paris and is an excellent connection in Montana.”

  Be polite, not defensive, Emma. So, he was of my mother’s breed, who preferred to pay too much for brand-name food despite the flavor. “Thanks, but I like what I do. I worked hard to earn the job, and I would like to continue there for a while.”

  The sudden urge to straighten his tie drew me to act, but Margie’s warning to suppress my impulse to control eve
rything kept me in check.

  “The offer stands. Tell me about your family. I’ve met your mother a few times, and she spoke highly about her talented and beautiful daughter. I can’t agree with the talented part since I haven’t known you long or had the pleasure of tasting your cooking, but I can agree with the beautiful.”

  “Oh, look, they have sesame crusted seared ahi tuna this evening. It’s cooked to perfection here.” I lifted my menu like a shield to his roaming gaze.

  “Really? Here?” Donald stuck his nose in the air and glanced around the room. “I’m surprised they have anything that sophisticated, but it’s a charming location. Perhaps next time—”

  “Oh, and you have to try the duck. It’s not greasy at all.” I pointed to his menu, but he wouldn’t even look at it.

  Pretentious, calculating, and looking for a respectable bride who doesn’t know his girlfriend. That was the stereotype of the men at my mother’s club.

  “What do you enjoy doing besides cooking?” Donald asked.

  I couldn’t answer that, not really. Beyond the kitchen, I didn’t really have a life. “Enough about me. What do you do for a living?”

  “Oh, I’m a partner in my father’s textile business. I work long hours, but I hope to cut down when I have a family of my own. I don’t want to be an absentee dad to my kids.”

  “Kids?” There was the word, the date-ending-soul-crushing-reality-check word.

  “Yes, of course. I mean, we’re not getting any younger, right?”

  I folded my hands over the menu, more to keep them from grabbing my purse and running out the door. “Are you saying I’m old?”

  “No, of course not. You’re still young. I only meant that if you want kids, you should have them young so you can enjoy being active with them.”

  I could be nice and throw him a carrot. “So you want a family?”

  “Of course. I mean, not right away.” He took a sip of water. “I’d want to travel for a couple of years with my wife, and then we would settle into a nice home.”

  Nope, I couldn’t guide him out but toward the trap. “So you’d want her to stay home?”

  “Of course. She would stay home and take care of the house and children.” He beamed as if he’d found the golden egg on Easter Sunday.

  “So, you want a wife from 1954?” I said with more sarcasm than I’d intended.

  Donald peddled like a broken eggbeater, fast, hard, but inefficient. “What I mean is…oh look, they also have chocolate molten lava cake. I do love dark chocolate, don’t you?”

  Now the menu was good enough for him to read. “Yes, I do.” I snagged a breadstick from the basket and chomped down.

  Poor Donald signaled a waiter over, and he gestured for me to order first while he took a moment to close his eyes and take in a breath or two. Apparently he did allow women to think for themselves. Perhaps I’d been too judgmental. This man was nice enough, but we had nothing in common, and our goals were not even closely aligned. He was looking for happily ever after with kids and a white picket fence. I only wanted to survive the week without losing my job.

  Once the waiter took our order, Donald sat taller, as if he’d recovered. “I think you’d make an excellent wife. I mean, what other husband can tell the men at corporate their wife is a chef? Talk about impressing clients.”

  That was it. Date over. I was no one’s trophy wife who would spend all her remaining days pleasing a man because he offered her a big house, expensive car, and high fashion.

  Despite my efforts, dinner took a wrong turn and derailed from the appetizers to dessert. Certainly, Donald, as well as I, knew this was not a match made in heaven. I relaxed into the evening with the avalanche of expectations falling to the ground without any major damage. If I was being honest with myself, I was relieved.

  “Check, please,” I requested when the waiter returned to collect the dishes.

  “I’ve got that,” Donald protested, but I held up one hand to him.

  “Nope. My restaurant choice, my bill.” I plopped my credit card down on the ticket and took a few sips of water. With a full belly, maybe I’d get a good night’s sleep. Alone. I didn’t want Danny boy getting any bright ideas because he bought me dinner. The waiter ran my credit card, and I signed the receipt, officially ending dinner.

  I gathered my belongings. “Well, it’s been fun. I need to get back to the lodge.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  My heart sank. I didn’t like rejecting someone, but I knew this would never work between us. “No need. I don’t have a car.” No. No. No, I didn’t just tell him that.

  “Then I’ll drive you there.” He offered his arm, and I scanned his face to see if he was joking.

  I scanned the room to find a way out when I spotted Seth at the bar. What was he doing here?

  I tightened my grip on my purse and headed for the door. “That isn’t necessary. Hector is probably already waiting for me. I mean, I’d feel bad if he drove down here to get me and I blew him off.”

  “It’s no bother, really. Call and tell him not to come. I’m happy to take you.”

  Seth bolted from the bar and intersected our stumbling act to the exit. “Miss Winters, Frank sent me to pick you up. There’s a souffle emergency.”

  “What?” That was my brilliant question.

  “Excuse me, but we’re on a date. I’m sure any kind of work emergency in a kitchen can wait.”

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt your date, sir.” Seth offered his hand, but he stood several inches taller and broader than my date, and his deeper voice and alpha way about him challenged any man.

  “Sorry, Seth. This is Donald…I mean, Donnie…ah.”

  “Donald Frasier.” He accepted Seth’s hand. “If you’ll excuse us, I’ll drive her to the lodge, and she can look into this souffle emergency.”

  That was it. Instead of Seth sweeping me away from this awkward situation, I was just confirmed for my ride.

  “I’m afraid Souffle isn’t at the lodge. That’s the problem.”

  I blinked at Seth, Donald blinked at Seth, and the waiter who had returned to clear the rest of our table blinked at Seth, who pulled a pink dog leash from his pocket and held it up.

  “I’m sorry. I know I should’ve been more careful.” Seth offered a raised brow, pouty-lip expression.

  “Oh. Oh!”

  Donald sneezed. Looked at the leash and sneezed again. “Dog? You have a dog?”

  “Um, yeah. She’s my best friend in the world.”

  He sneezed three more times. “Right, um. I should let you go. I’ll, ah. Good night.” Donald darted from the restaurant faster than a rat from a snake.

  “Sorry. Did I ruin your date?” Seth shrugged with that smug I-can-win-you-with-one-wink attitude. “I guess you need a ride back to the lodge now.”

  I faced Seth. “Did you follow me here?”

  “No,” he said with a downward turn of his lips.

  “Sorry. I thought—”

  “That I came here to spy on you?”

  I flushed. “Well, yeah. You show up here this morning at work declaring that I’m going to go on some excursion with you, and now you appear at the same restaurant as my date and I.”

  “Blind date. And no, I came here to check out this place as a possible night out for our upcoming visitors to the lodge.”

  “Fine. Enjoy your evening.” I marched to the door.

  “Wait. I’ll drive you back to the lodge. I’m going there anyway.”

  “No. I’ll call Hector, but thanks.”

  “Call him. It doesn’t matter how mad I am at you for sending me away. I’m not going to leave you stranded here at night.”

  “I sent you away?” My blood hit boiling as if his words had microwaved my mood. “What choice did I have? You were with another woman. I saw you.”

  “I know I wasn’t ready to settle down then, but I am now.”

  “Please stop lying. Do you even know what the truth is anymore? I mean, Sou
ffle? Really? You couldn’t make up a better dog name than that?” I dialed my cell, and it rang twice.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Hector. Are you free right now? If so, I could use a ride.”

  “I’m afraid not. Boss man sent me on an errand. Might be a good time to admit you need a car, dear. Sorry.”

  “No worries. I’ll get a ride. Thanks.”

  Seth whistled. Loud. As if I were jogging by a construction site during a lunch break. “Excuse me, but I will not be summoned like a dog. I don’t know who you think you are, but you cannot waltz back into my life, upset my job, ruin a date, and now whistle for my attention.”

  Woof! Woof!

  “Souffle. There you are sweetie. What a good girl.” Seth squatted and hooked a leash to a hot-pink collar around a large silver dog. “You were saying?”

  Chapter 4

  “A dog?” Ashley squealed over the phone. It was nice chatting with one of my high school best friends, especially since we’d all only reconnected last year after a decade-long separation.

  I heated a cup of tea and settled in for a long night of planning. “Yes, Seth has a dog.”

  “No. I mean, I don’t know. Maybe he’s changed.”

  “Really? Then why is he being difficult about the menu? He’s doing it on purpose. He almost cost me my job.” The tea pot whistled, so I poured the steaming liquid into a mug and dropped a tea bag inside before I realized that the mug I’d retrieved from the cabinet was the one that Seth gave me last Christmas. A gift that came with a promise that we would find a way to make the long-distance thing work. “That being said, he was so sweet with Souffle.”

  “Souffle?”

  “Yep, he named his dog Souffle. She’s beautiful and sweet, and he’s really good with her.”

  Ashley burst into a two-minute-long laughing session.

  “What?” I took a sip of tea and eyed my blank menu planner. “What’s so funny? I’ve got a ton of work to do tonight.”

  “You seriously don’t see it?” Ashley snickered and then cleared her throat. “He named his dog after you. I mean, not your name, but who you are. He’s back for you.”