The Holiday Sweet Spot: An opposites attract, gorgeous, feel-good romantic comedy (Falcons in Love Book 2)

by Sophia Knightly

  She was about to set the bags down and call him on his cell phone, when he opened the door a crack.

  His eyes narrowed and his brows lowered in a disapproving frown. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t have come,” he admonished.

  She huffed, “Did you think I would let you suffer alone? I brought you some much-needed supplies.”

  “Thanks, just leave the stuff with me. I’ll reimburse you tomorrow.”

  She lifted her chin, affronted. “I don’t want you to reimburse me. I want you to let me in. Now open this door so I can be of service.”

  His eyes glinted. “You sure are bossy, Queen Bee.”

  She shrugged. “Call me what you like but I’m coming inside to take care of you.” She’d never been to his apartment in all the years she’d known him, but she had no qualms telling him to let her in.

  His lips formed a taut line as his eyes narrowed on her. After a moment he conceded with a crusty, “All right,” and opened the door further.

  Emily entered his apartment, or secret sanctuary, from the way he was acting.

  “Just leave the bags on the coffee table, and I’ll unload them later,” he said, barring her progression.

  “Not on your life,” Emily said, sidestepping him officiously. Her gaze swept the room, taking in the disheveled state. Stacks of art books and travel magazines filled the coffee table and end tables bordering his maroon leather sectional. On the opposite side, a large flat screen TV took up most of the exposed brick wall.

  “If you’re embarrassed about your messy apartment, don’t worry. I hadn’t expected neatness from such a prolific artist.” She smiled. “No judgement here.”

  She headed to the dining room and a large portrait hanging above the sideboard caught her eye. She stared at it, her mouth agog and her eyes wide with disbelief. At a loss for words, she unloaded the bags on the dining room table and walked up to the painting.

  It was the most exquisite portrait of herself she had ever seen, and Choco Bear had painted it without her knowledge. She had never posed for him, but his artistry had captured on canvas the excitement and joy in her eyes the day The Sweet Spot had opened.

  Had 25 years really gone by since she’d worn that gorgeous teal satin dress? It didn’t seem possible. She’d always loved it and still had it hanging in her closet.

  Stunned, she studied it for a long moment, her heart thumping in her chest, before she pivoted to look at Choco Bear. “When did you paint this?” she asked slowly as she strove to gather her wits.

  Their eyes met and myriad emotions flashed in his eyes—embarrassment, guilt, love…pain. Her heart clenched as it dawned on her that he had feelings for her, not as her friend and work associate, but something far deeper.

  They had been the best of friends for years. She treasured his friendship and respected him highly, but she’d never had romantic feelings for him as they’d worked together. She’d been married at the time!

  “Choco Bear, I don’t understand. I…I,” she stammered, confused and at a loss for words.

  He looked away and awkward silence stretched between them unbearably.

  She swallowed hard and tried to calm her unruly heart. She was there to take care of him, not to contemplate his motives for hanging a portrait of her in his dining room. He looked mortified. Now was not the time to talk about his painting and its implications.

  Emily gently laid her hand on his muscular forearm. “How did you throw your back out?” she said gently.

  “I’m not sure.” He groaned, his tone fraught with frustration. “One minute I was lifting an easel and the other I couldn’t straighten up. It wasn’t even heavy. Must’ve made the wrong move,” he groused.

  “You look like you’re in a lot of pain. Where does it hurt?”

  “My lower back. I’m getting spasms.”

  “Stay right there.” She fetched one of the bags from the dining room table and returned to his side. “I brought you some lidocaine patches.” She took one out of a package and circled behind him. “Lift your shirt, and I’ll put this on for you.”

  “No, I can do it myself,” he muttered.

  “Stop being a cranky old bear. Don’t tell me you’re shy about showing some skin,” she taunted softly.

  Gritting his teeth, he slid his shirt up and bared his lower back.

  “Is this where it hurts?” Emily’s fingertips touched his skin and his body tensed.

  She snatched her hand away. “Oh, I’m sorry my hands are cold. This’ll just take a minute.” She peeled the backing off of the patch and carefully laid it on his lower back, smoothing the edges carefully.

  “Thanks,” he grunted.

  “You’re welcome. Lean on me now. We’ll go to the couch and get you comfortable.”

  He trudged beside her, one excruciating step at a time, until he reached the couch and lowered his body with a rasping grumble.

  “Have you eaten?” Emily said.

  “I had a cup of coffee when I got up.”

  She shook her head. “That’s all?” When he remained silent, she walked over and lifted the remaining bags from the dining table. Carting them to the kitchen, she said, “Be right back. I brought your favorite Chinese.”

  He closed his eyes and nodded. “Thanks.”

  In his kitchen, she took out the noodle soup and veggie stir-fry she’d picked up earlier and put it in the microwave. After a few minutes, she took it out and put it on a tray with a napkin and flatware. She picked up the tray and carried it to him.

  She set it down on the corner of the coffee table and tucked a cloth napkin into the front of his shirt. She grabbed an accent pillow from the side of the sofa and said, “Lean forward so I can put this pillow behind your back for lumbar support.”

  He groaned as he gingerly moved forward. Pleased that he was cooperating, she placed the tray on his lap. “Eat up now. You need to take the anti-inflammatory pills I brought you on a full stomach.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said gruffly.

  “They’re over-the-counter ibuprofen. Extra strength. You might need to take an antacid to protect your stomach,” she fretted. “You don’t have acid reflux. Do you?”

  “No, I’ll be fine.” A faint smile surfaced briefly. “Thanks for all of this.”

  “It’s the least I could do,” Emily said sincerely. “I don’t know what I would have done without your care after John passed. You nursed me through my broken heart, my broken foot and later, pneumonia.”

  He turned his attention to the food and ate in silence while she sat beside him and chatted about the upcoming employee party she was hosting at her home. He had to get better soon. She couldn’t imagine having the party without him present.

  “Pilar will be making a special meal for all of us. I’m so excited to see what she’s come up with,” she said, mindlessly trying to fill the hollow silence with small talk. “Please take it easy today. Your back needs to heal so you can come to the party. I won’t have it without you.”

  He nodded and continued eating. When he finished, she gave him two pills and a full glass of water. “Take two every four hours.” She stood beside him until he swallowed the pills and then she carried the tray back to the kitchen. While he rested on the couch, she headed to his bedroom to tidy it up.

  Her head whirled with things she didn’t understand as she hung up his strewn clothes. She kept reliving the moment she’d asked him when he’d made the painting. He never answered her question. His mortified expression had said enough.

  She picked up the framed photograph of his late wife and son on the nightstand. Both had perished in a car accident many years before Emily hired him. She had gone to one of his art exhibits in Soho and had been awed by his talent and ability to depict the spirit of New Yorkers in whimsical settings all over the city. Drawn to his fanciful artwork, she commissioned him to paint a mural for The Sweet Spot.

  Being a chocoholic and an artist, their friendship flourished. Later, when Emily approached Choco Bear to
make designs for her signature chocolates, they formed a creative partnership. All that time she’d been happily married to John. And John liked and got along great with Choco Bear.

  This latest development was surreal. If she hadn’t come over, she might never have known Choco Bear had been harboring feelings for her. It wasn’t as if the man didn’t date. He was ruggedly handsome and never lacked for female attention.

  The painting he’d made of her made her heart hurt, and she didn’t know what to do about it. She was still grieving for John. She needed Choco Bear to be her dear friend, not her boyfriend. She shook herself mentally. She couldn’t think about that now. Her feelings were too raw.

  She headed to the bathroom to put his towels in the hamper and set out clean ones. When she returned to the living room, his eyes were closed, and his breathing sounded deep and even.

  Relieved that he’d fallen asleep, Emily quietly let herself out of his apartment.

  Chapter 7

  Pilar left The Sweet Spot at noon to grab an early lunch before the day got too busy, and she wouldn’t be able to get away. She needed time to sort through last night’s events. Jake was taking up too much time in her head and distracting her from the reason she’d come to New York.

  Walking down Fifth Avenue, she loved how the frosty air awakened her senses and invigorated her body. She moved briskly to keep up with the fast pace. Corporate types on their cell phones strolled hurriedly by, impervious to the beautifully decorated holiday windows. Tourists and locals crowded the sidewalks with one thing in mind—Christmas shopping.

  She stopped to admire the elegantly decorated Tiffany windows when her AirPods signaled an incoming call. She double tapped one and answered as she fell back in step with pedestrians.

  “Hi, Erica. I’m so happy you called. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. I have exciting news,” Erica said, her voice brimming with delight.

  “What is it?”

  “Gabe and Lily are preggers!”

  “Yay, we’re going to be aunties again.”

  “Yes! You know how much I love babies.”

  “How exciting! When is the baby due?”

  “In June. No news on if it’s a boy or girl yet,” Erica said.

  “OK, keep me posted.”

  “Will do. How are you surviving the cold? I saw it was 35 degrees this morning. Brrrr.”

  “I actually love it. It’s a nice change.”

  “Yeah, it’s 84 and muggy here. How’s work going?”

  “It’s going great. Emily is a joy to work for.”

  “Have you had any time to see the tree in Rockefeller Center?”

  “Not yet, but her son promised to take me sightseeing soon.”

  “Her son? Is he hot? Single? How old is he?” Erica fired off.

  Pilar laughed. “Calm down, Rica. Full disclosure, Jake is hot and single. I’m not sure how old he is, but I’d say mid 30s.”

  “Aaaaand?” Erica prodded. “If he’s offering to take you sightseeing, he must think you’re pretty cute. And why wouldn’t he? You are.”

  “Thanks, but things are kinda complicated. I’m feeling a little confused.”

  “Why?”

  “A lot has happened since I got here.”

  “Like what? Details, please.” Pilar could just imagine Erica doing gimme gimme signs with her hands.

  Pilar told her everything, ending with how she’d seen Jessica’s text on Jake’s phone.

  “Hmmm. Sounds like he’s got a lot going on.”

  “Probably. I didn’t see him this morning before I left,” Pilar said feeling dispirited.

  “Do you think he’s hooking up with that Jessica girl and coming on to you at the same time?” Erica said bluntly.

  “I hope not. Last night we shared a moment and it was wonderful.”

  “Ooh, did you lock lips?” Erica said playfully.

  “Ha, I wish. No, we slow danced to Christmas music. It was sweet and romantic, but we got interrupted by Emily’s arrival.”

  “Oh, too bad. You would’ve gotten kissed for sure,” Erica said with a smile in her voice.

  “Maybe. I just wish it hadn’t ended with me seeing Jessica’s text. Now I don’t trust him.”

  “Oh, Pili. Why ruin things by mistrusting him so soon? It sounds like he’s been really nice to you.”

  Pilar sighed. “He has.”

  “Then let him show you who he is through his actions before you judge him.”

  “I guess it’s possible that Jessica was just being friendly, but I kinda doubt it. I’ve seen her in action. She has the hots for Jake, and her text was flirty and a little pushy.”

  “But does he feel the same way about her? That’s the important part.”

  “You’re right. I guess I should give him the benefit of the doubt. He has been wonderful to me. Thanks for the advice.”

  “Anytime. Gotta go now. It’s a full house here, and two of our crew are out with the flu. No rest for the weary.”

  “You mean no rest for the wicked,” Pilar teased.

  “Yeah, that.” Erica snorted. “I’d rather be wicked than weary, that’s for sure. Talk soon!”

  Pilar turned on 57th Street and headed to the deli Gracie had recommended. She enjoyed a turkey Reuben sandwich as she checked her emails and called her mother to let her know all was well. When she hung up from congratulating Gabe on Lily’s pregnancy, she dialed Abuelita’s number. After giving her a glowing update of her first few days in New York, Pilar hung up feeling content that she’d connected with her family and they were all doing well.

  When she returned to the candy making room of The Sweet Spot, Pilar walked into a scene she never imagined possible. Standing at the stove, Jake was dressed in a white chef’s tunic as he stirred a pot of bubbling caramel and chatted with Jean Claude.

  A flurry of pleasure warmed her inside as she gazed at the manly scruff on Jake’s lean jaw and his vibrant blue eyes. When Jean Claude saw her, he smiled shyly and returned to his station.

  “Well, look at you surrounded by all this sweetness,” Pilar said to Jake as she walked toward him buttoning up her white jacket.

  One corner of his mouth kicked up with irony. “Maybe some of it will rub off on me,” he quipped. “With Choco Bear out of commission, I wanted to lend a hand.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. You should see the line at the register.” Pilar tied the red bandana around her head and touched his shoulder. “Chocolate beckons me,” she said with a smile. “Chat with you later.”

  Jake sent her a wink, and she floated away, ready to give him a second chance.

  The hours raced by as everyone worked in sync, diligently creating scrumptious candies to the cheery sounds of Christmas music. At quitting time, Jake appeared at her side. “You’ve put in a long day, Chef Pilar. Let’s go.”

  “Where to?” she inquired, wiping her hands on a clean dish towel.

  His cryptic smile intrigued her. “You’ll see,” he said pleasantly.

  Seated next to Jake in a private booth in front of the crackling fire in the Blue Midnight Lounge, Pilar looked like an adorable snow bunny in her fuzzy white sweater. The lanterns on the partitions dividing the private booths cast streaks of light on her lustrous ebony hair as she gazed around her.

  “I feel like we’re in a ski lodge here. I like how they made this holiday bar so cozy with cedar walls and a fireplace. It’s like we have our own private cabin in the woods,” Pilar said in wonder.

  Jake nodded. That’s exactly what he’d wanted for them tonight—privacy. He’d chosen this bar because the intimate layout was ideal for good conversation. He wanted to reconnect with Pilar after his mother’s untimely arrival last night. He’d returned from walking Suzette expecting to find Pilar waiting for him in the living room, only to discover she’d already gone to bed.

  “There are some fun holiday pop-up bars in New York at Christmastime,” he said.

  “Is there one at Soho House?” Pilar said out of the blue.


  “I’m not sure. Why do you ask?”

  “I thought you joined your friend, Jessica, at Soho House the other night.”

  “No, by the time I headed out, my friends had moved to another bar in the East Village, so we met up there.”

  “With your friends or Jessica?” she inquired casually.

  “Both.” Where was this leading? Her dark eyes regarded him skeptically, and it dawned on him that she might be wondering about his relationship with Jessica. “Pilar, about Jessica…”

  “What about her?” Unblinking and direct, she waited for his answer.

  “We’re friends, nothing more.”

  “Oh.” She released a small gust of air. “It seemed like there was more. Like she had strong feelings for you.”

  “Well.” He paused. “If she does, they’re not reciprocated,” he said in all honesty. “She’s a childhood friend. I took her to her senior prom many moons ago because she asked me to,” he said, smiling at the awkward memory of going to her all-girl Catholic high school prom. Though they’d had fun, he hadn’t felt attracted to her. “Other than the prom, we’ve never dated.”

  She scrutinized his face for a loaded moment, then dropped her gaze to the menu and studied it with raised brows. “This place is amazing. They have such a diverse selection.”

  Jake peered at the menu in her hands. “What should we start with? A bottle of wine? Or a hot toddy maybe?”

  “The Cabin Fever Toddy sounds delicious. It’s made with rum, cognac, caramel, apple cider and a marshmallow meringue topping. I’ll take that one.”

  “Somehow, I’m not surprised. Sounds more like a dessert than a drink,” he observed. “I’ll have the Polar Bear.”

  “The Polar Bear has aquavit, apple cider, lemon juice and star anise,” she said, reading from the menu. “That sounds bitter.” She sucked in her cheeks. “Guaranteed to make you pucker up.”

  “Good.” His gaze flicked from her beguiling eyes to her rosy lips. “Are you angling for a kiss, Señorita Falcon?”