A Dash of Christmas

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A Dash of Christmas Page 23

by Samantha Chase


  Stupid.

  When the first leg of the flight touched down in Atlanta, he figured he’d be able to get off the plane and run in to one of the tech shops inside the airport and grab a charger. That wasn’t the case. They had been held on the plane because there weren’t any gates available, and when there finally was one, all they had time for was refueling before they were lining up to take off again.

  It was maddening.

  Now it was after two in the morning and he was angry at himself and exhausted, and wanted to crash as soon as he got home. Well, he’d texted Emery as soon as his phone had reached one percent battery life and then he’d crashed.

  When he woke up the next morning, the sun was shining and it was almost eleven. The morning was already gone! Cursing, he got up and showered, and as soon as he was dry, he grabbed his phone and saw that Emery hadn’t responded to his text. Thinking it was odd of her not to, he called her.

  “Hey, you’ve reached Emery. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Have a great day! Bye!”

  Muttering a curse, he did as her message asked. “Hey, I’m sorry I missed you—again. I can’t believe I forgot to charge my phone. The whole day was a damn nightmare and I was hoping to hear your voice. Call me. I miss you.” He paused. “Bye.” Placing the phone down, he swore again. Already his life felt awkward and out of control because she wasn’t with him, and he resented it and was just plain angry at himself for that. He’d managed to live just fine for thirty-something years without her and now, after barely a month, he couldn’t seem to function at all.

  I need to get back into my regular routine, that’s all. Get over to the restaurant and meet up with the staff and I’ll feel like I’m back on level ground again. No big deal. And by the time the dinner crowd arrives, it will be like I never left. He realized he didn’t feel nearly as confident as his words sounded in his head. Refusing to think about it, he made himself a cup of coffee and got dressed. By noon, he was in his car and on his way.

  By one, he was laughing with his staff and getting caught up on what had been going on—which wasn’t much. This particular restaurant ran like a well-oiled machine.

  It was both comforting and a little anticlimactic.

  “So what do you say, Chef,” his manager, Rocco, asked. “You’ve got a pile of mail a mile high on your desk and you have an appointment with our wine guy scheduled for two o’clock. Why don’t you get started on the mail and I’ll prepare you something to eat, deal?”

  “That would be great. I’m craving some jambalaya, if there’s any ready,” he requested. “And if not, surprise me.” After thanking the staff, he let them all get back to work and went to his office.

  The mail took a little time to go through, but his assistant had already sorted it out so only things that required his attention or his signature were left for him to handle. Lunch was delicious and the meeting with the wine distributor was pleasant. By the time he left, Carter was growing concerned that he hadn’t heard from Emery yet. He knew she had a lot to handle when she got home, but he had hoped it wouldn’t mean she would go radio silent on him.

  Pulling out his phone, he called her.

  “Hey, you’ve reached Emery. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Have a great day! Bye!”

  With a growl of frustration, he left a message. “Em, I’m getting a little concerned now. I know you’re busy settling back in, but call me. Soon. I’m going to need you to call me, otherwise I’m getting on the next flight back to Albany and coming to check on you in person.” Hanging up, he tossed the phone on his desk with frustration. Where the hell was she? Had her parents given her grief? Was she back at work? Had something happened to her? His mind was swirling with every sort of scenario and he was just about to pull up flight options when there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in!” he barked and opted to search flights anyway.

  “Sorry to bother you,” Rocco said, peeking into the room. “But we’ve got a situation out here and—”

  “You’ll have to handle it. Something’s come up and I need to leave,” he snapped, his eyes never leaving the computer screen. It would take him an hour to get to the airport if he didn’t stop at home to pack, and then there was security to get through. In all honesty, the earliest he could get on a flight was around 7:00 p.m. and even that would be cutting it close. Cursing, he pushed himself away from the desk, raking a hand through his hair.

  “You’re leaving? You just got back,” Rocco said, confusion lacing his words.

  “And you run everything so efficiently that I’m really not needed,” Carter said, finally looking over at the man. “And I’m not saying that to be snarky, I’m actually very thankful for you, Rocco. It’s just…there’s something I need to take care of back in Albany.”

  Rocco smiled. “Well, before you go, there’s someone here to see you.”

  “Really, Roc, I don’t have the time. Can’t you make an excuse for me? I need to book this flight and—”

  Suddenly the door opened wide—almost slamming against the wall behind it—and Emery stepped into the threshold. “Don’t you dare book a flight back to Albany,” she said with all the sass and attitude he loved about her. “This is my first time in New Orleans and I’m not leaving until you show me around properly.” She paused, still not stepping fully into the room. “Plus someone once dared me to come to one of his restaurants because he was confident I’d be so wowed by his cooking prowess.”

  With a small smile, Rocco waved and walked away. Once he was gone, Emery stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. Carter was certain his jaw was hanging on the ground and that he was hallucinating. She couldn’t be here. It wasn’t possible. She was back in Albany taking care of her life. How…? Why…?

  Finally, he forced himself to speak. “What are you doing here?” Standing, he walked around the desk and slowly made his way to her—as if he was afraid she would leave. He prayed she wouldn’t—she looked more beautiful than he remembered. Had it really only been twenty-four hours? In all the years they’d known each other and in the last month where they were together every day, he’d never seen her look like this.

  With a shrug, Emery stood her ground and waited for him to come to her. “I was hungry and figured I should come and eat at one of your restaurants.” She grinned at him—one of her smartass ones that he knew so well. “I almost went to the one in Orlando because…you know, theme parks and all that, but then I figured there’d be time for that later. I’ve never been to New Orleans, so here I am.” She took a step toward him. “So—what’s on the menu here? Anything normal?”

  Then she was in his arms and he was kissing her, because the only way he knew to stop Emery from talking food was to keep her quiet like this. Her arms wrapped around him, and if he could, he’d devour her right here, right now, in his office.

  And why couldn’t he?

  Maneuvering them over to the desk, he had her pressed against it when she broke the kiss and started to laugh.

  “Nice try, Montgomery. But you’ve been boasting and bragging about how awesome your restaurants are that you’re not going to distract me this time. Feed me now and then you can have your way with me later.”

  And damn if that wasn’t a good deal, he thought.

  “Fine, but just…don’t get too close to me, because I’ve been out of my mind missing you and now that you’re here, there are so many things I’d rather be doing than sitting down to a meal.”

  Her husky laugh wrapped around him as she grabbed his hand and walked toward the door. “And I promise you’ll get to do them all. After I eat.”

  It took a few minutes to get through the kitchen because he introduced her to everyone. She had his staff eating out of the palm of her hand as she talked about what foods she liked and disliked, and Carter knew she would convince his chef to prepare some sort of spe
cialty dish just for her.

  He showed her around the restaurant, explaining his décor choices before choosing a table in the back corner. Lunch hadn’t been that long ago, but he knew whatever food was brought out for her, there’d be enough for the two of them to share.

  And really, the sooner they ate, the sooner he could take her home.

  Once they had drinks in front of them and were finally alone, he asked, “So seriously, Em, what are you doing here? I thought you had a lot to do.”

  Some of her vibrancy faded and her shoulders hunched a little before she shifted in her seat to look at him. “I got home, aired the place out, did laundry, and food shopped,” she explained, playing with the straw in her drink as she spoke. “Then I called my mother.”

  “And how did that go?”

  She let out a small, bitter laugh. “Depends on who you ask, I guess.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She shrugged. “I said my piece and explained why I thought her stand on this entire situation was wrong, and she disagreed. I told her I’d be there when she was ready to apologize, and she said she’d be waiting for me to do the same.”

  His eyes went wide. “Wow.”

  She nodded. “I know.” Quiet for a moment, Emery took a sip of her drink before going on. “It’s not like I’m completely surprised, although I was hoping she’d at least try to see my side of things, but she didn’t. When I got off the phone with her after getting everything off my chest, I felt relieved. Maybe more so than if she’d apologized. I think this way I can have a good reason for keeping my distance. I said what I had to say and…that’s it.”

  He knew what she was doing—she was making an excuse for her mother’s bad behavior, because it was easier than admitting how much it hurt. Reaching out, he took her hand and kissed it.

  “Right before my father died, Christian and I had talked about confronting him about the way he treated us. Well, mostly Christian, but I told him I’d be right there with him to stand up for him.”

  Emery looked at him oddly. “And what happened?”

  Letting out a long breath, he shook his head. “It never happened. He had the stroke before either of us could say anything to him.” He paused and studied her hand in his. “The thing is, I think it would have gone exactly the way you just described. I think Christian would have spoken his mind, I would have backed him up and told my father how much his disrespect of my career choice hurt, and he wouldn’t have been affected at all.”

  “You don’t know that for sure, Carter. He might have surprised you.”

  He shook his head. “Unfortunately, I don’t think so. Over the years I’d argued with him enough to know he never wanted to admit he was wrong—never believed there was any other way except his way.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It was harder for my brother. Our father was always harder on him, and when Dad died, Christian felt the loss the most because there was unfinished business. He never had the opportunity to tell my father what he thought or how he felt.” Then he looked at her. “I’m glad you got to do that. You didn’t let this go on for years and fester. You took a stand and I only wish it had gone better for you, that she had respected your words and apologized for the pain she caused you.”

  “On some level I knew she wouldn’t, but I didn’t let it stop me, so I’m proud of myself.”

  He kissed her hand again. “You should be.”

  “After I hung up, I was feeling pretty empowered and relieved and just so many different emotions, so I decided to keep up the momentum and reached out to a real estate agent and put my place on the market!” she said excitedly. “I met with them yesterday evening and started the process. Actually, the original appointment was for today, but I called them back and asked them to come over ASAP and they did.”

  “Wait, what? You put your place up for sale already?”

  She nodded.

  “But…where are you going to go? What are you going to do?” Then he realized what he wanted her answer to be—where he wanted her to be.

  “Well,” she began coyly, “that’s kind of why I’m here. To talk to you about it.”

  How he loved this woman even as she frustrated the hell out of him. “And you couldn’t do that by phone?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I thought it best if we were face-to-face for this conversation.”

  Leaning back in his seat, he motioned for her to continue. They were interrupted by the arrival of their food—a plate of bronzed salmon with fried oysters and an herbal brie cream. Honestly, he couldn’t believe Emery had agreed to it, but the look of delight on her face at the plate of food proved that maybe he didn’t know her as well as he’d thought.

  And that delighted him far more than it should have.

  A caesar salad for two, per her request, was also placed on the table, followed by a large plate of french fries.

  Carter looked at her and then the fries and then back to her. “Really? How did I miss that order?”

  She was grinning broadly as she reached for one of the fries. “Guess you weren’t paying attention.” After one bite, she moaned happily. “So. Damn. Good.”

  “You also thought the fast food place had great fries.”

  She swatted his hand away when he tried to grab a fry. “Uh-uh, none for you. These are all mine and they’re so good, I may have to go back and ask the chef to marry me.”

  Even though he knew she was kidding, he couldn’t help the overwhelming sense of jealousy that he felt. “I taught everyone back there how to cook,” he snapped, taking a fry and biting into it before she could stop him. “So if you’re proposing to anyone, it’s going to be me!”

  Her eyes went wide as she gasped at his words. “Carter, I was… I mean, it was just…” Then she paused and seemed to consider him for a long moment. Twisting in her seat again, she faced him. “This all goes back to why I’m here,” she said calmly.

  “It is?” Holy crap. Was she really here to talk marriage with him?

  And that annoyed him because she was beating him to the punch—just like she used to do in school.

  Nodding, Emery happily munched on a few more french fries before replying. “You see, I realized that by selling my townhouse, I could live anywhere.”

  “What about your job?”

  “Oh yeah!” she said excitedly, slapping her hand down on the table. “I totally forgot that part of the story—I have been let go from my job. Isn’t that great?”

  For a moment, Carter had no idea how to respond, and felt like maybe Emery wasn’t completely comprehending everything she’d just done, how her entire life was upside down again, but this time all of it her own doing.

  “Um, Em, are you sure that’s good news? I mean, in the span of an afternoon, you lost your job, put your home up for sale, and stopped talking to your parents. I know I’m not the best one to give advice, but…this all seems like a bit much. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  Fork in hand, Emery took a taste of the salmon and hummed with delight before acknowledging him. “I’ll admit, it does seem like a lot, but I’ve been thinking about it for months now. It was just finally time to put it all into action.” She handed him a second fork. “C’mon, eat with me. This is fantastic! Almost totally worth the trip down from New York.”

  Unable to help himself, he laughed before taking a bite—damn, it was really good. Better than the jambalaya he’d had for lunch, and that was saying something.

  “Okay, so you did all this stuff and now you’re thinking about where to move and finding a job. Anything else? Are you suddenly going to change careers and be a cruise director or…or go to med school to become a doctor?”

  The glare she gave him told Carter she wasn’t amused.

  “The job thing is still up in the air. I really enjoyed working on the cookbook project for your mothe
r, but it’s not something I can make a career out of.”

  “Sure you can. You can work for a publisher doing that sort of thing all the time,” he said, spearing his fork into the salmon for another bite. “You have a great eye for detail. I think you’d do a hell of a job.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “It’s an option, but not something I feel passionate about.” She sighed. “I’m good with details. I’m good at taking a project and analyzing it and keeping it on task, but then I want to be done and move on. For some reason, lately I feel like I need to be challenged constantly. I don’t want to just sit at a desk performing the same tasks day after day, but then I don’t know what it is I want to do.”

  “You don’t have to decide right away, do you?”

  “Not this instant, but I’ve been out of work for two months, Carter. I have decent savings, but it’s not going to last forever.” She ate more of her meal and looked so happy and relaxed, like she didn’t have a care in the world.

  If it were him, Carter knew he wouldn’t be able to relax at all. If he were dealing with half the things Emery was, he’d be a nervous wreck until every issue was resolved. And as he studied her, something came to mind.

  He had a job for her.

  Okay, it wasn’t something he normally hired out, but in this instance, he thought the position would be perfect for her and it would keep her by his side for at least the next several months while she tried to work things out.

  The only problem was he didn’t want to insult her or make her feel like he didn’t believe in her.

  So maybe right now wasn’t the time to bring it up.

  Maybe he should wait until later, or at least tomorrow.

  Or maybe—wait. Didn’t she mention having something she wanted to talk to him about? He was just about to remind her, but when he looked at her and saw how much she was enjoying her meal and how truly relaxed she was, he figured it could wait.

 

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