by Leslie North
“Fancy meeting you here,” Chris muttered as he waved down the bartender.
“This was my dad’s favorite watering hole,” Dan said with a grimace.
“Did he pass?”
“Yeah. A few months ago.”
Chris tapped a knuckle against the wooden bar, frowning down at the grain. “Sorry to hear that. Let’s drink to him tonight.”
The bartender arrived, and Chris ordered two whiskeys, neat. When Dan lifted a brow, Chris said, “One for your dad, remember?”
Chris clinked his tumbler of whiskey to Dan’s beer bottle and downed the whole thing in one gulp. He slid the empty tumbler over the bar, grimacing.
“That’s the shit,” Chris said, then reached for the second tumbler and swirled the amber liquid around.
“I take it you’re out celebrating,” Dan said.
“Sure. Celebrating.” He hefted with a humorless laugh. “Or whatever.”
“You won the contest. What’s not to celebrate?”
The fact that winning the contest brought about losing Mara. “The future looks bright. I’m as happy as any miserable New Yorker could be, I guess. So at least there’s that. Oh, this is off the record, by the way.”
Dan cracked a grin. “Of course. Everything that happens in Rupp’s is off the record. So what do you plan on doing with that prize money? Be honest.”
“I told everyone earlier today. Donate it to charity.”
Dan narrowed his eyes. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Why not?” Chris shrugged, taking a swig of his second whiskey. “I don’t need it.”
Dan studied him for a moment, his expression growing unreadable. “You know, Mara had big plans for that money if she’d won.”
The tops of Chris’s shoulders went hot at the mention of Mara’s name. “I’m sure she did.”
“My mom’s a real estate agent. She told me that the other day that Mara put down a deposit on a little place not far from here. She’s planning on opening a bakery. Or was, at least. I think she was going to use the prize money to do it.”
The news settled strangely inside Chris. He focused on his breaths for a few moments, trying to figure out the best response. “She never told me she was planning on opening a bakery.”
“She didn’t tell anyone, except my mom.”
Chris studied his glass for a moment, thinking back on all the questions she’d dodged about what she’d been doing and why she didn’t want to tell him. He still didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to share the information with him, of all people. But the more he thought about it, he could guess why she might not want to.
It took guts to start a new business venture. And in the shadow of someone like Chris?
“I wish she had mentioned it.” Heat prickled through his body, and suddenly the synapses were firing. Gears turning. Ideas sparking to life. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he slipped it out to see the caller. His cousin Josh in New York.
Chris tapped out a quick response—"Call you back in a minute”—and decided to finish his drink and leave. Getting blind drunk was no longer the course for the rest of the evening.
“Well, she at least got lots of coverage from the contest, so I think whatever she launches next will have a good shot at making it,” Dan went on.
“I know it will.” Chris took another sip at his glass. “She’s the hardest worker I know. She ran laps around me in that kitchen. And she makes killer gingerbread, apparently.”
“We all saw that,” Dan teased.
Chris laughed, even though part of him wanted to give him shit for the comment. His tension about Dan was melting away and puddling at his feet. In fact, finding him here tonight had been something of a blessing. For whatever reason, Dan was helping things click into place.
“When do you head back to the city?” Dan asked.
“In the next couple days. Then I’ll start packing for my new show. I think I’ll be gone for at least six months.”
There it was again—that painful jolt in his gut. The same one that had accompanied his win in the contest, all throughout the press conference, and the second he’d spotted Mara stride through the community center doors and out of his life.
“Sounds like the trip of a lifetime.” Dan offered him a smile and raised his beer bottle in a toast. “Make us all proud back here in Glenford, okay? Tell the world about us. Make sure they know about our little slice of upstate heaven.”
“Promise. And here’s to your dad.” Chris clinked his tumbler to the bottle and downed the rest of his drink. He settled his tab with the bartender and then clamped his hand on Dan’s shoulder.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, and then let himself out into the chilly night of downtown Glenford.
As soon as he began the trek back to his condo, he slid out his phone and called Josh. His cousin answered on the third ring.
“There you are! Congratulations! My extra-famous cousin is about to become even more famous!” His cousin whooped with laughter. In the background, Chris could hear cheering. “You’re on speaker. Amelia, Mitch, and Jules are all here too. We wanted to call to help you celebrate the good news.” Chris had sent both Josh and Mitch a quick “I won” text, with strict instructions to share it with nobody outside their inner circle. The network would have killed him if the results leaked early; all the reporters had had to swear to abide by the information embargo to be permitted into the final press conference.
Chris laughed, pressing the phone to his ear. “Oh, come on. I’m not extra famous. Just normal famous.”
“Once news breaks about this win, you’re going to be able to retire.” Josh had always been supportive of Chris’s aspirations. Hell, he, Josh, and Mitch had basically been raised as brothers, and they’d always been attentive to each other’s paths.
“Retire? You know the Dentons don’t retire.”
“True,” Josh said with a laugh. “We just work until we can’t anymore. But seriously. I can’t wait to see what you do with this cooking show, man. It’s going to be so great. Are you excited?”
“I’m thrilled,” Chris clarified, his steps scuffing lightly over the sidewalk as he strode toward his condo a few blocks away. And it was true. But he was also confused and a little bit anxious. He had a lot to figure out before he headed back to New York City. “I just wonder if it’s a little…soon.”
“It’s never too soon to achieve your goals,” Josh quipped.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Chris heaved a sigh, unsure if he should say more. The situation with Mara was burning inside of him, but maybe now wasn’t the right time.
Josh tutted. “Okay. Something’s going on. What is it?”
Chris couldn’t help but smile. “You can always tell when I need your brotherly advice.”
“It’s my specialty. What’s going on?”
Chris took a restorative breath before launching into the situation with Mara. Her winning the local contest only to be paired against him. Their electric reunion, flour imprints and all. The epic weekend in his condo, followed by the recurring jealousy issues.
“Turns out,” Chris concluded, “She’s been keeping some business plans from me. She wants to open a bakery and was going to use the winnings to do it.”
Mitch tutted. “You could give that money to her in a heartbeat.”
The mere words caused his own heart to start beating faster. “I know. Exactly. I just wish she’d told me.”
“Well, she wasn’t sure how it would pan out,” Josh chimed in. “Plus, you were competitors! It’s not like she was going to goad you into losing just for the sake of her future business.”
Josh’s words thudded through him, and that’s when he realized his cousin was sort of right. If he’d known that Mara was planning on using that money to invest in the startup of her dreams…he might have considered approaching the network executives to ensure that he lost and Mara won.
“We had an awful falling out,” Chris said, stuffing his free hand into the pocket of
his coat. “Things had been going really well, and then…I got the new show. And I realized that we just won’t be able to make it work.”
Josh laughed. “Oh, you can’t?”
“Not anymore. She wants nothing to do with me.”
Mitch tutted. “Yeah, been there, done that. It’s not as hopeless as you think, I promise.”
“How would you know?” The emptiness pinged through him again, this time stronger than it had been over the past few days. Winning the competition had made it shriek inside him. He was tired of being successful everywhere but in love. He wanted someone. He wanted Mara.
“Because we’re all Denton men,” Mitch responded simply. “We’re all a little hard-headed until the right woman comes along.”
Chris mulled over the words for a moment, and then he broke into laughter.
“It’s true,” Mitch went on. “My priorities changed completely once I fell for Jules. Once we found our little Noelle. And sometimes you have to take big risks if you want to chase the things that matter most.”
The cousins chatted a while longer as Chris trudged slowly back to the condo. By the time they hung up, Chris had reached his condo. Pacing, pensive and alone.
His cousins had given him plenty to think about.
Now he just had to figure out what to do from here.
15
Mara called Julia’s office early the next morning to cancel her deposit on the space. Dan’s mother was understandably upset at the decision, but she honored Mara’s wishes even though she encouraged her to take some more time to think about it.
“And this isn’t because I want the commission from this,” Julia said before they hung up. “I want to see you go after your dreams.”
“I will,” Mara promised, her throat tightening. “I just have to adjust my timeline. That’s all.”
She repeated those words to herself the entire rest of the morning as she took a shower, headed for the community center, and met up with her sister Kaitlyn to pack up her gingerbread village. She’d promised the piece of art to a local charity for their Christmas party. She and Kaitlyn worked at sectioning the village as quickly and carefully as possible.
“So what will happen with Chris’s giant dickscraper?” Kaitlyn asked with a snort. Her sister knew the gist of what had gone down between them.
“Who knows? He’ll probably throw it in the trash.” Mara felt her frown deepen. On its way to becoming permanent.
“Would he waste something like that?”
Mara sighed. “Probably. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.” The confusion and despair had layered on so thickly that it formed a crust around her. She wanted Chris at the same time she was glad to be rid of him. But even those feelings were tempered with more longing. She just felt lost inside her own head.
Life with him seemed foreign and impossible, but life without him seemed off too.
“I probably should have just told him that I was gunning for the bakery,” Mara murmured a long while after their conversation had died down. Kaitlyn sent her a sharp look.
“You think that would have cured everything?”
“It wouldn’t have hurt,” Mara grumbled. She set the church on top of parchment paper inside its own box.
“It wouldn’t have solved his trust issues though,” Kaitlyn pointed out, shaking her head. “Not at all. That man was dead set on suspecting you of something. It probably would have continued to be a problem.”
Mara sighed and tried to latch onto that as the final word in the matter. But it was hard. Because every time she came across a different part of her village that Chris had helped set up or decorate, her mind flashed back to him. Back to those tender, real parts that she’d seen during their time together. The parts that she’d fallen for, once upon a time. The parts that she’d fallen for again, so quickly. So easily.
The real Chris was still in there, and she’d found him.
But the real Chris isn’t one to hear you out or chase you. She needed to remind herself of this as often as possible. Sure, being adults now, nearing their thirties, allowed for plenty of time to change and evolve as people. But if he could still resemble his younger self so much, then probably he was still the same guy who just allowed her to disappear from his life without so much as an attempt at a conversation.
So maybe she should just be happy they even had a conversation that day in the lounge. Like adults.
Kaitlyn and Mara transported the gingerbread village to the local charity with care. Once it was safely deposited and setup in its new home, Kaitlyn gave her sister a hug before darting off to a dinner date. Mara watched her go, smiling wistfully.
Thinking of Chris yet again.
The only option was to get busy. In the wake of her reality show loss, busy meant diving headfirst into her catering business. She got to work getting her receipts in order for the end of the year, spent some time communicating with customers about upcoming events, even fielded a few new client calls now that her name had appeared in local papers. People were interested in what she had to offer. Losing to Chris wasn’t all bad.
A few days ground by in focused concentration. She was productive and important. She even tried to get Christmas decorations up, but every time she tried to hang the tree lights, she got a call.
Chris was a distant memory. Even though he crossed her mind no less than thirty times each day as she wondered where he was, whether he was halfway to Dubai, and whether he still thought of her even half as often as she thought of him.
When a knock sounded on her front door Wednesday afternoon, she jolted from her desk in the front room. She approached the door hesitantly. She wasn’t expecting anyone, that was for sure. She peered through the peephole, her mouth parting at the sight beyond.
Mara clamped a hand over her mouth.
Chris stood on the other side of her door. Tall and handsome as ever, his dark hair expertly styled. Those blue eyes focused right on the peephole, as though he could sense her looking through.
She brought a shaky hand to the doorknob and slowly cracked the door open. She peered through the slit.
“Can I help you?”
He held up his hands, showing off the wreath he carried. It was an enormous green monstrosity, decked with holly and a huge golden bow. It was the type of gaudy that she loved. “Hey. I noticed you don’t have a wreath.”
She blinked a few times, letting his odd intro settle into her. Then suddenly, a laugh burst out of her.
“Uh, you’re right.” She opened the door a few more inches, tucking some hair behind her ear. She was definitely in work-from-home mode, which meant leggings and an oversized shirt. Not at all like the glossy New Yorker before her. “Is that why you came over?”
He shrugged, eyeing her door. “Want me to hang it?”
“Sure.” There was already a hook on the door, one of the pre-Christmas preparations she’d managed to get done, without any of the decorations that should follow. Chris delicately lined up the hook with the metallic coil behind the wreath, his tongue poking out as he arranged it just so.
“There.” He offered a small smile, his gaze shifting to her. “Now you have a wreath.”
She rolled her lips inward, feeling awkwardness blossom between them. This was…strange. But it wasn’t unwelcome. “I haven’t gotten to the decorations yet. I keep meaning to, but I’ve been so busy catching up…”
“Is your tree up?” Chris asked.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Can I see it?”
She eyed him a moment, unsure of his angle. Coming to her house for a pre-Christmas decoration inspection? It seemed like a plot to get inside her house, and if it was, well…she was a willing victim. “Sure.”
She stepped aside, welcoming him in. His leather shoes clicked on the wood floor of her foyer as he stepped inside, looking around. This was the first time he’d been to her house…and come to think of it, she wasn’t even sure how he knew where she lived.
“How’d you get my a
ddress?” she asked quietly.
“Your mom.”
“Hm.” Mara nodded as she headed for the tree nearby. When she turned to look back at him, his gaze sizzled over her. There was so much unspoken between them. So much yet they had to say.
“I thought you would have been gone by now,” she said, her voice sticking to her throat. Damn, it was hard to hang on to her hurt when he was facing her. When he was mere feet away after a painful five days apart.
“There’s been a change of plans.” His gaze dropped for a moment as he ran his thumb over his knuckles. “Mara, I’m sorry.”
She tried to force a smile and brush it off, but her cheeks only twitched. “For what?”
“For everything?” He laughed softly, but it faded quickly. “For not trusting you, mainly. For not fighting for you.” His jaw flexed as he studied her, something clouding his eyes. He reached into his pocket suddenly, and when he brought his hand out, he had a slip of paper there.
“Take this,” he said.
Mara blinked, stepping forward to examine what he was offering her. A check. She took it from his fingers and read it over. It was addressed to her, from Chris’s own bank account in New York. The sum was for fifty thousand dollars.
“What is this?” she asked slowly.
“It’s my prize money.” He stuffed his hands back into his pockets. “I don’t need it. I heard through the grapevine what you intended to do with the money, and honestly, I want to see you achieve those dreams. Your dreams are important. Besides, I can’t think of a better way to thank my hometown than by investing in a business as amazing as yours will be.”
Mara’s bottom lip trembled as she stared at the check. Her entire body had gone hot, and all she could think of was calling Julia to reverse her decision from earlier that week.
“Are you…serious?” she whispered.
Chris nodded. “Way serious.”
A laugh rocketed out of her, and she wiped away a tear that had spilled. “You don’t need this for…Dubai, or whatever?”
Chris scoffed. “Trust me, the network is footing that bill. But Dubai won’t be happening for a while. Not until I give them the greenlight.”