Chelsea dropped her shop keys into the middle of the bare desktop, and then strode purposefully out into the main area of the shop to the box Aunt Flo had packed up. She dug through it until she found the picture, then took it back to the office and carefully propped it up on the corner of the desk. She stroked the glass with one finger, took a breath, and walked from the room.
Jesus, what now?
Aunt Flo didn’t say anything to her when she stepped back through the main room. She lifted the box of her things and propped it against one hip before she paused at the door, gripped the handle, and turned to look at the woman who’d raised her.
Shoulders stiff, and lips pursed, Aunt Flo bustled back and forth trying to look busy, but Chelsea knew it had been so many years since she opened up the shop that she had to be scrambling to remember everything she needed to do.
“The list you made for me back when I started opening up, is under the drawer in the cash register. Bye, Aunt Flo. Please call me if you need me. I love you.” She waited, hoping for at least some acknowledgement, but the silence stretched. Finally when Aunt Flo stomped into the back room, probably to pull a tray of scones from the freezer, Chelsea sighed, blinked back tears and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
Feeling deflated, she looked both ways up and down the street. The sky was lighter but still the neighborhood was just barely starting to come to life. What was she going to do now? Once Aunt Flo set her mind to something, she didn’t back down. Chelsea held no hope that her aunt would call with an apology and the offer of her job back.
She glanced at her phone. Still too early to call Cannon. Maybe Havyn? But no today was her rehearsal dinner. The last thing she needed to deal with was a panicked personal call from her maid of honor.
Cannon then. No. She’d just drive around for a while first. She shuffled to her car and sank into the still mostly warm interior and started the engine, but then had no idea where to go. And Cannon had said he’d be here first thing when the store opened for a mocha. That wasn’t too long from now. She decided to chance it that Cannon might be up, or at least forgive her if she woke him.
“H’lo?” His voice was raspy and groggy.
She sighed. “I woke you. I’m sorry.”
“Chelsea?” She heard rustling in the background. “It’s fine. What time is it?”
She winced. “Five thirty.”
He grunted.
“I’m sorry. Go back to sleep. I’ll talk to you later.”
“No. No. I’m good.” But she heard him yawn. “What’s up?”
Where did she begin? Tears suddenly choked off any words she tried to speak and she only managed a mangled whimper.
“Chels?”
The compassion in his tone was the last crack in the dam she’d been valiantly attempting against the tears. Sobs shook through her.
“Chels, hon. Just try and tell me where you are.” More rustling in the background.
“F-F-Flo’s,” she managed to stutter.
“Be there as soon as I can.”
The phone went dead in her ear. Relief had her sinking back against the seat. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. How was it that a heart could hurt this much? Aunt Flo needed her, didn’t she? How could she just walk away knowing the amount of work it took to run the shop and her aunt’s physical limitations? She tipped her head against the headrest, feeling no sense of direction.
A tap at her driver’s window twenty minutes later jolted her from a fitful sleep. She shivered, realizing the interior of her car had gone cold now. She blinked sleepily and peered out to see what had woken her.
Cannon peered in, concern etching his forehead into a frown. The sensation of arriving home after a long, grueling journey washed through her. He’d come.
She wanted nothing more than to scramble out of the car and throw herself into his arms, but she might as well not add desperate to her crazy because desperately crazy was so much less appealing than just crazy. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing, because then he would really think she’d gone over the edge.
Cranking over the engine, she rolled down her window and looked out at him. He’d never been a more welcome sight. His black leather jacket broadened his shoulders, and the Seattle Sounders skullcap he was wearing this morning made him look like a true Seattleite and heightened the concern in his blue eyes.
Thankfully, her own were mostly dry now, though she felt sure they were still red and puffy.
He squatted down, rested his forearms against her window sill and his chin on his arms, and studied her with a soft compassion that almost made the tears start up again.
She blinked them back.
“Talk to me, hon.”
Unable to keep her distance any longer, she slumped toward him and pressed her forehead to his. “She fired me.”
She felt the jolt of his shock. “What?”
“She was here when I got here this morning. Already had all my things packed and in a box. Demanded the keys and told me I don’t work here anymore.” The last words hitched in her throat.
“Oh, Chelsea…” He reached in, cupped the back of her head, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m so sorry.”
“I can’t just leave her. She can’t run the shop on her own. Not to mention I have rent to pay…” She dropped her head against the head rest again. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Cannon.”
“First,” he opened her car door and gestured for her to get out. “I’m taking you to breakfast.”
Chelsea climbed out, but glanced around. “We’d better both drive. I don’t want her to have your car towed.”
He tugged her close and pressed a gentle kiss into her hair. I parked down the street at a paid parking place. My car will be fine.” He led her around to the passenger side and ushered her in, then took the place behind the wheel. Scooting the chair back to accommodate his legs, and adjusting the mirrors, he asked. “Where to?”
She had no energy to make a decision. And hadn’t eaten anywhere for breakfast but the coffee shop for years. “I don’t know.” She shook her head.
“We’ll just drive then and find a place.” He squeezed her hand and then backed out of her spot.
Thirty minutes later, they were seated across from each other in a Denny’s. Chelsea was trembling with dread and worry over the future. She’d never been without a job before, she realized. Never had to worry where her next meal was going to come from. But the thing that bothered her the most was how unreasonable Aunt Flo was being. She was just hurt that Chelsea had done something on her own without asking for permission. And at almost thirty, Chelsea figured it was about time she’d done something like that. She had been very responsible and covered her bases. The only thing she was guilty of was not letting Aunt Flo know because she’d known what her reaction would be.
Her fingers trembled so badly she was having a hard time opening the creamer for her coffee. Cannon covered her hands and held them for a moment until she stilled, and then took the little plastic tub from her and pulled back the tab.
She thrust her hands into her lap and willed them to stop shaking as she eyed the bowl of creamers. She’d never be able to drink her coffee with only one in it.
Cannon’s lip twitched at the corner and he picked up a second creamer. “How many?”
She felt her face heat. “Three more.”
He grinned. “Four creamers per cup?”
She shrugged. “I don’t really like the taste of coffee.”
He leaned back and blinked at her. “Why do you drink it then?”
She frowned. “I’m not really sure.” A nervous laugh escaped. Maybe because that was all Aunt Flo had in the house when she was growing up.
He pushed the coffee aside. “What do you want instead?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know, Cannon. The coffee is fine.” What she really wanted was not to have to make another decision and not to fall apart on the day her best friend was goi
ng to need her the most. She just felt like the whole world had caved in on her. And suddenly she was spilling her whole sorry story to him. How hurt she was by Aunt Flo’s actions, how she’d never worked any other kind of job, or even had to apply for one, for that matter. And would Aunt Flo even give her a good recommendation? And what would she apply for? And today of all days when she needed to be calm and cool for Havyn and Levi. She needed to pull herself together, but she felt like she was being shaken apart. And even if Cannon had decided he was going to leave Africa to work for the church in Seattle, he still would be flying back to Africa to finalize some things and what if she was homeless and contactless by the time he arrived back here?
“Chelsea!” Cannon covered her hands with his own.
And she realized he’d said her name several times and she’d just kept babbling. She blinked, took a breath, looked at him.
He was doing his best to suppress the humor, but she could see it dancing in his eyes.
She shrugged. “See? I’m already falling apart and I’ve only been fired for less than an hour.”
“You are not falling apart and I want to tell you something.”
The waitress appeared at their table and set down an omelet and a plate full of pancakes, hash browns, eggs, and bacon.
Chelsea frowned and glanced over at Cannon. They hadn’t ordered yet, had they?
He grinned. “You were talking. I pointed to two things on the menu and hoped one would be good for you.”
Her stomach rumbled at the tantalizing scent of the bacon. She glanced sheepishly at the waitress. “Sorry.”
The woman grinned. “Sometimes we just have to get a few things off our chest when we let them pile up for so long. Sounds like you have just the man to help you through the hard times.” With that, she squeezed Chelsea’s shoulder and bustled away.
“Which do you want?” Cannon asked.
Chelsea nabbed one of the pieces of bacon and nibbled the end. Realizing they hadn’t said grace, she set it back down before it could tempt her more. “I don’t care. It all looks great. We could share?”
He nodded. “Sounds good. Want to say grace?”
“Sure.” She bowed her head and thanked God for their food and for the fact that she knew He already had an answer for her situation. And she felt better immediately after acknowledging it. “Amen.”
A sigh eased from her and when she looked over at Cannon, he was smiling gently.
She twisted her lips. “You knew praying would put me in a better frame of mind.”
“Yes.” He picked up a fork and cut the omelet in half. “Now are you ready to hear my story?”
She gave in to her stomach and took a big bite of bacon. She closed her eyes at the wonder of the salty taste, then spoke around the bite. “Sure. Tell me.”
He took a breath. “When I was in high school I was an actor.”
She frowned. “Like in the school play?”
He chuckled. “No. I was one of the main actors on a police procedural drama that ran for several years.”
“You were? Which one?”
“Blue Streets. You ever heard of it?”
Chelsea leaned forward. “Get out!” He had been an actor on Blue Streets? “I’ve heard of that show! I’ve never watched it—sorry!” She cringed, then hurried to amend the gaff with, “But I’m sure I would have watched it if I had time.”
He grinned and slathered butter on his half of the pancakes. “It’s okay. Anyhow…I still get residuals from it.”
“Residuals? Like royalties, or something?” Her thoughts flashed over the last few days. The two hundred dollar tip. The amounts of money he’d spent on meals without blinking. The extra things he’d purchased like his car rental, paying for her ice skating, and the hats and gloves and scarves he’d bought when they went to Leavenworth. All of it added up and probably would have taxed a missionary’s salary. Still none of it was too extravagant – well maybe except the two hundred dollar tip – so he probably wasn’t raking in the dough. And why was he telling her this anyhow?
He stilled then, and looked up. “Chelsea. I want you to relax and not worry about getting another job for a bit. I want you to be able to explore your options and decide what it is you’d really love to do in life. And to do that, you need to have free time.”
Free time. Wouldn’t that be nice. But… “I don’t really have a lot of savings, Cannon. And bills have to be paid.” She froze. Wait… he wasn’t…
He must have seen the understanding dawning on her face because he nodded, grinned, stuffed in a bite of pancakes and chewed, just watching her.
She shook her head. “Cannon, I can’t let you pay my bills. That’s too much! I have rent and a car payment and electricity and food is not the cheapest in Seattle either.”
“Would ten thousand dollars get you through till I get back mid-February?”
“Ten— Cannon!” It was nearly the end of December. Did the man think she lived in a high rise with prime ocean views and ate caviar and t-bone steaks for every meal? “That would be more than enough, yes, way more, but I can’t let you pay my bills.” Still the thought of having that burden lifted from her. Of being able to take a little time and breathe before jumping into another job, that was heavenly.
“Why can’t you?”
“Because, I just…wouldn’t feel right about taking money from you.”
He seemed to ponder for a bit as he polished off the portion of her hash browns that she slid his way. “Okay, well, it’s almost Christmas. So will you at least promise me that you’ll let your mind rest for a few days? Get through the wedding tomorrow? Relax a bit. Think about this again on Monday?”
Monday.
Dread crept in. He would be flying out on Sunday and she would be all alone again then. They only had today and tomorrow left together, for now. The least she could do was chill out for a few days. She wasn’t going to be able to start job hunting during Christmas weekend, anyhow.
She sighed. “Okay, I’ll stop stressing. At least try to. But I’m a little worried about Aunt Flo.”
Cannon slid his now empty plate aside, propped his elbows on the table, curved one palm over a fist, and rested his chin on his hands. There was a glimmer of something not quite definable in his expression. “You amaze me, you know that?”
The way he said it, softly with no condescension, was like a warm quilt on a cold winter day.
“Why?”
“You have such a big heart. I love that about you.”
She didn’t know what to say to that so she just held her silence. For a long moment, they just looked at each other, and she wished she had the freedom to lean across the table, give him a kiss, and tell him how much she was going to miss him. Finally, she dared to breathe the question that had been weighing on her since he mentioned it. “So, are you going to take the job here in Seattle?”
“Are you going to be here waiting for me when I get back?” he retorted.
She smiled. Felt her heart beating in her throat. Barely squeezed out, “Yes.”
He grinned. “Then I’m going to take the job.”
He reached for the check, examined it, then dug out his wallet and left some bills on the table to cover it. “For now” —he stood and held out a hand to her—”want to come with me to buy a cell phone and a laptop?”
“Yes.” She took his hand and let him pull her from the booth, pushing away thoughts about how, if something went wrong again, they could be forced to spend a month and a half apart without being able to communicate with each other. How he might return to Africa only to change his mind and decide to stay. Her heart would be broken, but this was a chance she couldn’t afford not to take. If he broke her heart she would deal with it when the time came.
He stopped by the car. “You don’t look like you are feeling too well.”
She sighed. She might as well tell him. “I’m trying to believe this isn’t just all a fairy tale, Cannon. That you aren’t going to disappear into thin air. But I�
�m having a hard time. You are a little too good to be true.”
“Too good to be true, huh? Well, I’ll just have to put my mind to use figuring out a way to prove myself to you.”
“You would do that?”
“I would most definitely do that.”
Aunt Flo had never cared one way or the other what Chelsea thought when she’d promised something but not followed through. Chelsea kicked at a spot on the pavement, then grabbed the handle of the car and met his gaze over the top. “Maybe you just did.”
Chapter 12
The rest of Friday seemed to pass by in a flash and before she knew it, she was standing under a light in the church parking lot, saying goodbye to Cannon after the rehearsal dinner. All the bridesmaids had planned to crash at Havyn’s place for the night for one last girl-bash before Havyn’s big day.
“I’d planned to go back and close up the coffee shop and then go meet them at her place, but I guess I don’t have to do that now.”
“No. You don’t. And it’s not your fault. Maybe this will be good for your aunt. Help her see that she’s got some unreasonable expectations.” He leaned close and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Go have fun with the girls. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Every time they parted, the man took a bigger chunk of her heart with him. And they had so little time left. She wanted nothing more than to spend the entirety of their last day together, but with the way Havyn had planned out the day… “Tomorrow’s going to be a bit hectic.”
“I know.” He stroked one finger over her cheek, then stepped back and slid his hands into his pockets. “Save me a dance at the reception.”
She smiled softly. “You can have all of them.”
“And to think you would barely have lunch with me when I got here on Monday,” he teased.
“You’re right.” She tapped her chin in pretended thought. “I might have to rethink my offer.”
Mistletoe and Mochas: A Christmas Romance Novella (Hearts of Hollywood Book 2) Page 8
