'Tis the Season for Love: A Charity Box Set

by Maggie Dallen

“No problem.” He unwrapped the paper around his store-bought sandwich, chomping hard, tearing the crusty bread with his shiny white teeth, “Is there a reason you’re crying or am I going to pretend you’re not as I finish my lunch?”

  “I came here to eat in privacy.”

  “Well, it’s not a good hiding spot since it’s where I keep...” he reached around her between two banker boxes. Maybe it was being on the second floor, all that hot air rising, but the room suddenly seemed warmer. Her body stiffened, avoiding a mistaken touch. Still his ghost-like caress grazed her back. How many times had he taunted her with the very words, “Not touching you,” on repeat? He slipped out a bag of nacho chips. “...My not-so-secret stash. Want some?”

  “Hey! Aren’t those Ezekiel’s?” His name was scribbled all over the foil bag.

  Jesse, this is not yours. Do not eat. –E

  “It says do not eat.”

  “I’m sharing.” He held out the bag. Collette shook her head. “Okay, I’m not eating, I’m cleaning its contents by using my mouth, there’s a difference. Are you going to tell?”

  “I need to eat healthier.” Collette subconsciously pinched her waist. “I ate too much ice cream this weekend and carrying a few extra pounds isn’t going to help me re-enter the market... if you know what I mean.” She wanted to curse for allowing herself to indulge on all those dinners out.

  Jesse shook his head, but she was too emotionally drained to catch whether he was sarcastic or not.

  “Relationships,” she clarified, hoping it would be a satisfactory answer.

  “What happened to you and Mr. Dung?” Collette never corrected him. Jesse sat up straight, waving his index finger by her face as if to check for consciousness. “He dumped you?”

  “Let’s just say he tried a new shade of lipstick.”

  “He’s a cross dresser?” Jesse snapped his fingers, “I knew it. The guy cared too much about his suits, what brand they were, what they were made of. Wow, I didn’t realize he was...”

  “Stop goofing around, I meant he cheated on me.” How could she have been this blind? Did her dreams mean nothing? Collette placed her future in the wrong hands, hands that were on another woman. Clearly he understood what she originally meant, but saying those exact words out loud was like another jab to her broken heart.

  Jesse sucked in his breath.

  “You want me to egg his car?”

  Not his Audi, he would... oh. She bit her lip, as much pleasure as it would give her to annoy Bryson, lashing out would be childish.

  “We could show him up. I could pose as your fake boyfriend—make him jelly.” Collette squinted at him, but he smirked, unfazed by the threat. “Jealous,” he said correcting himself. She rolled her eyes, unconvinced, so he turned up one of his flannel sleeves, exposing his bicep and flexed.

  She double blinked and swallowed. Sprawled along his taut forearm in black ink below the mountain forest scenery was the phrase ‘take the risk’ so large she couldn’t miss it. Of course his muscles were beefy, being strong and fit was a necessary part of his job. She cleared her throat, embarrassed at her slip up. Collette wanted to pretend Jesse wasn’t aware of the little note she received this morning, but he was there, and he was stalking her reaction this morning when she opened it. Slipping the letter back into her lunch bag, she turned away momentarily, like today would be the day it would work for Mr. Thorne.

  Nothing she did seemed to intimidate him. If it wasn’t for Jesse’s teasing smirk, his burly appearance would send shivers down her spine. Ratty clothes, the need to shave, and large forearms proving he didn’t have to rely on the forklift, she had to remind herself for a split second, single didn’t mean low standards.

  “I doubt that would work,” Collette mumbled. Jesse was a tattooed brute and Bryson was a prestigious lawyer. He would catch on to their ruse too quickly. It wasn’t that Jesse was a bad guy, she felt short on experiences and hardships in comparison. Collette grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth, so news of her with a guy like her co-worker would easily come across as a pity date.

  “What?” Jesse munched on another chip, “I clean up nicely.” Yet he couldn’t wait to finish his mouthful before defending his case? Hmm, lovely.

  “No thanks. I’d rather have nothing to do with he-who-shall-not-be-mentioned ever again.” She sighed, lowering the salad and reaching over into the bag for a handful of chips, “Maybe it’s for the best. If two and a half years wasn’t enough time, I suppose another day wouldn’t have...” she bit her lip, fighting the tears, “I guess I just wasn’t enough for him.”

  A breath expelled between them, the longest two seconds of her life. Why did she do that—give him open reign to mock her? Collette feared the words he’d half-heartedly spit out to appease his ego. Jesse turned to face her, his jaw hanging on the floor. She made the mistake of looking into his glossy irises.

  “Or... he’s weak. I’m certain if he loved you as much as that secret admirer of yours, the temptation wouldn’t faze him.”

  Collette pulled out the love letter from this morning, skimming over its contents. What if this stranger had really fallen head over heels for her? Would that be so crazy, to have a fan? Sure, this guy thought she was beautiful, but at least someone appreciated her. Something about her caught his eye and his timing was impeccable.

  Did she believe in second chances?

  In fate?

  Someone told her upfront how they felt—or sat down and plotted what swirled in their mind, and that someone probably wouldn’t lie about those feelings for the nearest set of skinny legs to walk on by.

  “Fine,” she huffed. “Since you’ll probably steal it anyways, that kind note from Damien made me feel a little less like garbage.”

  “Why would you feel like garbage?” he asked, genuinely confused. Collette glared at him. What part of her boyfriend cheating on her and making her feel inadequate and miserable didn’t make sense?

  “Oh, I don’t know, because I wasn’t enough for Bryson. We were together for almost three years. I was so stupid. Here I thought he was going to propose for Christmas, maybe before, but instead he was hitting on Gabrielle.”

  “More like Gabe-evil.” Jesse winked causing Collette to snort. Ripping another tissue from the box... okay, a dozen more, she cleared her runny nose.

  “The point is, the love letter could be completely bogus, but it gave me hope that some guy out there could love me. I mean, what if this Damien guy is actually a sweetheart, not a stalker taking pictures of my every move. He sounds too nice.”

  “Nice huh?” Jesse held the chip near his mouth, “Not romantic?”

  “I said the word nice, didn’t I? It’s a letter so...” she exhaled, not wanting to admit he was right. Her cheeks burned at the comment about Damien’s caged heart. “What do you know about being romantic?”

  “Apparently more than you.” He chopped down on the chip, looking away with a smug grin on his face.

  Collette bit her lip, “Maybe he is a little bit. A couple paragraphs and he’s already more thoughtful than my ex.” She cringed, struggling on what to call Bryson, but after what she witnessed she had to cut him off. Collette didn’t feel comfortable about discussing what their love was supposed to be or what she wished Bryson could have been in that moment, not with a co-worker, especially Jesse. In her mind, Jesse wasn’t romantic. He was a little twelve year-old boy with the body of a movie star—worst of all, he was clueless to it. The rest of his appearance was a mess, but with a haircut... No, she let that idea disappear. Dropping the fork inside the container, she closed the lid over her salad.

  “We should return to work.”

  “We should, shouldn’t we?” Jesse stood up, sliding his hands into his pockets. Technically they had another four minutes before she would return to her office and he would drive out to set up the lights for the Nakamoto-West wedding. Having him gone all afternoon would give her the privacy to clear these muddled thoughts. He was only being kind.

  Why?
Jesse wasn’t kind. Working side by side for years, she learned quickly to never trust his charming smile. He was up to no good. Was he distracting her from whatever he paid Ezekiel to set up? Their co-worker would do anything for an extra five bucks—like wrap her entire desk in wrapping paper—last year’s Christmas surprise. Never let Jesse Thorne buy lunch, because Jesse’s kindness isn’t kindness, it’s a diversion for his inherent evil.

  Then again, breaking up with Bryson may have been an exception. Was it too late to accept his offer on egging the car?

  “Chips?” Jesse shook the bag, wafting the nacho cheese particles towards her.

  She caved. Reaching in for a handful, she savoured each one, licking the dehydrated cheddar powder off before biting down on it. “What?” her cheeks flushed with heat. It was the middle of December, why was it boiling in that loft?

  Jesse shrugged, keeping his thoughts to himself.

  Collette let go of her second handful. “I can’t accept this.”

  “Please. I want to share.”

  “Really, I shouldn’t.”

  “Lottie, listen.”

  “It’s Lettie. Lottie is a nickname meant for a Charlotte, which I am not.”

  “Lottie, listen.” There were chip crumbs in his beard. She glanced down to her boots, in order to keep her lunch in her stomach, as he spoke, “We Thorne boys give with a jolly heart. No regrets. Okay some... but if I had a twinge of guilt, I wouldn’t share.”

  “That’s not the issue. Jesse, those aren’t your chips.”

  “What chips?” Collette’s eyes widened at the empty foil back, then flicked up to Jesse sporting a cheddar orange beard. “They’re chips, don’t let the little things get to you.”

  “But breaking up with Bryson was a pretty big deal. Him cheating on me was...” she couldn’t help but notice him eyeing her lunch bag. “You’re giving something that isn’t yours to begin with. That’s not how you...” she tapped her toes together. He wanted a reaction.

  “You want a cookie?” she asked, fishing out a couple from her bag.

  “You have more?”

  She smiled placing them in his hands. “I always have more. I just keep them in a spot you’ll never find them.” His innocent thefts made her feel appreciated on a small scale, and whenever she caught a glimpse of him wolfing one of her creations down, it warmed her heart. Collette secretly loved the great lengths he would go to sneak into her lunches. If her food was worth stealing for, there wasn’t any compliment towards her efforts that spoke louder. Every day Jesse ate her food. Little things, samples, she would pretend most days to go unnoticed. He was a creature of habit, but under no circumstances would she go through a shift without a taste of her home-baked goodies. Life was too short to cut out sweets.

  Jesse offered to help her up. She accepted his hand, and he pulled her to her feet.

  “Why?” he shoved the first one whole into his mouth. Chew then speak. Sheesh!

  “Hmm, maybe it’s that naïve part of me that overestimated the good in jerks, like Bryson, hoping one day you would grow up and make the right decision.”

  Jesse, already mowing down the second one, laughed.

  “I wouldn’t count on it, Lottie. Your baking is to die for.”

  Chapter 3

  “No!” Ezekiel shouted from across the warehouse, holding the bag of chips to his chest. “These are mine. Mine! I’m not sharing.”

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Jesse smirked, opening the back of the company truck. The aluminum ramp squealed as he pulled it out. Two giant steps and he was in the back of the vehicle with the first stack of chairs strapped to a dolly.

  “You ate all my chips on Monday.”

  “Not true.”

  “Yes true.” Ezekiel climbed around him for the tote bins, cringing at the tangled string lights. He and Jesse would be spending all afternoon winding them up—again. How difficult was it for customers to not trash their equipment?

  “No. I saw Collette eat them.”

  “You saw her because you were eating them with her.” Ezekiel shook his head, unimpressed with him. “This is your doing.”

  “What?” he gasped, splaying a hand over his chest mocking his offense.

  “She ran up to me with tears in her eyes, begging for mercy, and gave me the money for these.” Ezekiel waggled the bag in the air.

  Jesse snickered, “So they’re not yours. They’re Collette’s.”

  “A gift is a gift.” Thirty minutes later, the boys had the vehicle completely unloaded with all the items on the checklist accounted for. Damage assessments would come later, but handing off the form as is would give the lady a head start to the busy weekend. The music and arts society was hosting a Winter Carnival. Last year, over two thousand citizens braved the cold for the outdoor concert alone. They had tents and tables to prepare. But first there was another wedding tomorrow, which meant he would have to unload the supplies shared from Thursday night on Friday, and pack up sometime on Sunday evening, perhaps Monday morning.

  He promised he would visit Jaxson somewhere in the middle of his hectic schedule, hoping to this weekend, but chances were he would only have time to pick up a gift for him between shifts. There was an influx of winter weddings and reunions this year. It wasn’t bad for business but if it wasn’t for the high demand of the equipment, he could push the task until late Monday morning for some shut eye.

  Working weekends was part of the trade, yet their boss Rowan Price made it clear to avoid working on Sunday as much as possible. Ezekiel guessed it was to prevent nasty rep from the conservative folk, but Collette figured it was to avoid overtime. Jesse didn’t care. Work was work. In fact he enjoyed the small ‘family-run’ company. The pay was alright and he wasn’t cooped up in an office. He would travel from venue to venue, sometimes receiving free invites, food samples, tips... oh and friend requests on social media—a lot of bridesmaids.

  Most of Jesse’s followers on social media were women, and there were more than enough likes to fuel his ego on his selfies. The picture a buddy tagged him in, of Jesse climbing out of the lake, from two summers ago, received hearts on a daily basis. He knew it was wise to avoid reading the comments.

  Those women didn’t interest him anymore. He lived day to day. The job was easy, move item from point A to point B, scribble a few notes and leave the rest to Collette. She was the miracle worker. Lifting the junk was a cinch and money well-earned.

  Pinching the clipboard under his arm, Jesse walked into the front office.

  “’Sup, Lottie,” he slapped the board on the counter. Collette didn’t acknowledge him, nodding into her phone call. Sliding open the pen drawer, he found the gingerbread men and slipped them into his pocket. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the new knowledge that she planted them there for him every day, but they were too irresistible to ignore.

  Now was obviously not a good time to distract her. Papers were spread out on her desk, with a collage of sticky notes on top of her monitor. She had a pen in each hand, one in her ear, and another lost in a lock of loose blonde hair. Huh, so she decided to keep it down today.

  It really was like a ray of sunshine as it cascaded past her shoulders.

  He spun on his heel to return to the warehouse, but she pinched his shirt tugging him back.

  “Cookies,” she whispered away from the phone, snapping her fingers and pointing to the desk drawer.

  “But I thought...”

  “My drawer. My cookies.”

  Fine, he would have to steal them when she wasn’t paying attention. In spite of her commands, he watched her watch him lick the cookies then seal the bag, shoving them back into the desk. He tried to walk away again, but she tugged his shirt a little harder.

  A pink note beside her keyboard distracted him. It was her cursive font, only a giant heart circling the name Damien. Jesse bit back a chuckle. He couldn’t believe Monday’s prank was going strong into Wednesday afternoon. This would be the perfect time to burst her bubble.
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br />   After all this was love, war, and gingerbread cookies.

  Finishing the call, she opened her mouth presumably to double his workload, but the front door swung open wide.

  A woman in her late twenties, with auburn hair, and a winter coat that would cost him his monthly paycheque entered the room, taking all the air with her. The fluorescent lighting angled in her direction, and she flashed them with her million dollar over-bleached smile.

  “I’m here for my Collette call.” The boisterous woman cackled, holding hands with the tall gentleman by her side. “You said something about wedding arches?”

  A younger girl stepped in after them. Jesse couldn’t believe his eyes at the resemblance: same blonde hair and blue eyes, only she held her head higher and perhaps visited the gym a few extra times.

  “It’s okay, we’re family,” she said as her eyes roamed him head to toe.

  Jesse held out his hand to greet them. Collette rolled her eyes. What? I was only being welcoming. They’re family.

  “This is my younger sister, Brooklyn, and my cousin and her fiancé.” Jesse raised his eyebrow at her waiting on their names, “Kaylee and André. They’re the ones getting married in less than three weeks.”

  “Christmas?” he asked with his second guess being New Years.

  “Right after. Two days after Christmas.”

  “Ah,” Jesse smirked, checking up on Collette.

  “Look! We went for manicures. I opted for snowflakes,” she squeaked. “And look, they put a stud on my ring finger. Cute, isn’t it?” Kaylee snuggled into her man’s arms, admiring the large diamond on her engagement ring. “Goes well, huh.” Collette didn’t respond, so her cousin kept yammering. “That totally sucks that things fizzled out between you and Bryson.” She flitted her lashes. “So weird. We all thought you’d get hitched long before us.”

  “Yeah.” Collette turned to the note by her keyboard. She must have been thinking about Mr. Wright, staring at all those hearts around his name.

  “I think you should give him a chance. I really liked him. Your parents did too. What if you let go of your perfect match over a misunderstanding? I say work it out.”