It's in His Kiss Holiday Romance Collection

by Mary Leo

  “Me too,” Rose said, waiting for the excitement of her new life to hit her.

  But it never did.

  * * *

  For the next few days, Max did everything he could to help Rosie get ready to leave with him on Valentine’s Day. They went over the menu together, even helped locate some of the more exotic ingredients she was having trouble finding. He helped out in the bar and in the kitchen whenever he could.

  Everything was going according to plan, except that as the time for their departure grew closer, Rosie seemed more distant.

  When he would question her on it, she’d use the excuse that she was tired. By the morning of the twelfth, while they were cruising the Farmer’s Market in Little Italy for fresh organic herbs and tomatoes, he couldn’t hold in his concern any longer. “I don’t get it, Rosie, shouldn’t we tell the girls the good news? We leave in two days and you haven’t even told them yet. Plus, you haven’t packed one single thing.”

  “I’m telling them tonight,” she said and went off to buy some fresh oregano.

  She finished with her purchase and he put his arm around her. “What’s wrong, Rosie? You seem to be so sad. Aren’t you happy about going?”

  “How could I not be? I’ll be in France, with you, learning how to make wine. What could be more romantic?” she gave him a forced smile.

  It was a gorgeous, warm, sunny day in San Diego. A slight breeze blew in off the bay and the sidewalks of trendy Little Italy were crammed with happy people from all over the world. He could see why Rosie loved it here, and for the first time since he’d proposed this whole trip, his knuckle-headed brain finally got it. Maybe she didn’t want to leave all this for him. Maybe, just like he’d thought from the beginning, this was Rosie’s hometown and she was having a massive problem leaving it.

  But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words out loud.

  For several years now, he’d been lonely. More lonely than he liked to admit, and when Rosie said she’d travel with him, follow him wherever he went, it was like the sky opened up and the warm sun finally shone down on him.

  To think this beautiful, smart, incredible woman had agreed to come along on his crazy adventures was more than he could have hoped for.

  But now, he had to face it. Something was terribly wrong.

  * * *

  That night, as the three women sat at the end of the bar in the virtually empty room, while Max busied himself in the kitchen, Rose tried to tell Daisy and Jasmine that she was leaving, but the place was so empty she couldn’t bring herself to drop more bad news on her friends. She figured the downturn was all her fault, especially considering that Jasmine had spent the previous weekend with Jake, and assumed the two of them were now very much in love. “I’ve lost count of the orgasms, and have lost track of the multitude of ways in which he made love to me,” she said while sipping a dirty martini.

  Daisy was just about to leave to get dressed for a date with William, the guy the crystal had lit on. But honestly, she didn’t look very happy about the night to come. In fact, she looked downright morose. “We’re all doing everything we can to make this thing work, but for some reason, that crystal looks almost clear. It worries me that we’re almost out of time.”

  “I don’t get it,” Rose said, thinking it was probably due to her hesitation about leaving with Max. But she couldn’t admit her failure to the girls. Not yet, anyway.

  “Maybe this date with William will help. He seems like a nice guy,” Daisy said.

  “You don’t sound very enthusiastic about your date.” Jasmine said.

  Daisy smiled, and took a sip from her martini. “I’m enthusiastic, kind of. I better go. Would one of you please tell Max I’m leaving? William’s picking me up at my house in an hour.”

  She slipped off the bar stool, gave her friends a hug and left. The clicking of her heels echoing on the wooden floor … the very empty wooden floor.

  “I’ll fetch Max,” Rose told Jasmine and walked around the bar to her kitchen.

  When she walked through the swinging door and smelled her pasta sauce wafting up from the simmering pot on the gas burner, and saw her two line chefs plating her beautiful entrées, it suddenly occurred to her that no matter how much she loved Max, no matter how much she had always loved Max, a bigger part of her soul was filled with her passion to cook. Now that she finally had the ability to create whatever she wanted in her own kitchen, she simply couldn’t give it up.

  Max stood in front of the prep table chopping onions. She walked over to him, took a deep breath, and slowly let it out.

  “I can’t go,” she blurted out as she donned a white apron. “And we need you out front at the bar. Daisy left for her date.”

  “Wait. What did you say?”

  “We need you behind the bar. Daisy left.”

  He finished squirting out chocolate-raspberry sauce around Rose’s house specialty cheesecake, carefully placed the raspberries and chocolate swirls along the top of the creamy delight and slid it on the end of the pickup table for the waiter.

  He walked in closer to Rose. “No. I mean about that first part. That you can’t go.”

  Rose shuffled her feet, and stared up at him, not truly believing she could say the words. “I can’t go with you to France. I can’t leave my kitchen and my friends. They,” she waved an arm, “this means too much to me.”

  He blinked a couple times and she could see the moisture building in his eyes. “Rose, you’re not—”

  But Jasmine burst in, interrupting him. “Max, we have three customers out front, and I have no idea how to make a Star Martini.”

  He turned to her. “I’ll be right there.”

  “I’ll stall them,” she said, “but please don’t be long. I’m not very good at bar-talk.”

  After Jasmine left, Rose said, “We can talk about this later. Right now, we really need you to pour drinks. We haven’t had customers in the bar all night. It’s important we keep them happy.”

  “What’s wrong, Rose? Tell me and I’ll make it right.”

  She wanted to tell him what was in her heart, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t admit that she was terribly afraid that by not going with him, With a Twist would come tumbling down around her, and it would be her fault. But on the same token, she couldn’t leave with him and give up not only her dream but that of her two best friends.

  “You better go out there. If I know Jasmine, she’s out there talking about crunching numbers and the one thing that will make our patrons run out of here screaming is Jasmine’s lessons in financial planning.”

  Jasmine bounced back in the kitchen. “Max, please. We now have five thirsty people at the bar.”

  “Go,” Rose ordered.

  Max unfastened his white apron, threw it up on a prep table and left in a huff, with Jasmine leading the way.

  * * *

  When Rose awoke the next morning, Max had already packed up and was gone.

  No note.

  No fond goodbye.

  Not even a text message on her phone. It was as if he’d never been there. His room was spotless and the sofa-bed was neatly put back together. The only evidence that he’d been there was his bag of Star Anise lying on her kitchen counter.

  She checked her email. Nothing.

  This time, he hadn’t even bothered with an email.

  She scolded herself for thinking he could change. Hadn’t her father taught her anything?

  He and Max were both cut from the same leavin’ cloth. She’d known it all along, so why did it hurt so much?

  Rose sobbed out loud this time, and when she thought she was all cried out, she cried some more.

  The first time he’d left, she’d never even kissed him and she’d cried for two weeks straight. She could only imagine the tears she’d shed this time around.

  Rose wanted to phone her friends and tell them what happened, wanted to hear them tell her it would be okay. That Max was a jerk for giving her up. That he would never find true love. That he�
�d be alone for the rest of his life. But the thought only made her cry harder.

  She was in love with him, more now than she’d ever thought possible. She knew she would never get over him. All she could really hope for was that in time the pain of giving him up would ease to a dull ache. He’d gotten under her skin this time, and she knew she’d never be the same woman again.

  By ten-thirty that morning, when she should have been getting ready for work, she called Jasmine instead and told her she couldn’t make it in today.

  “It’s okay. We only have two reservations for the entire day,” Jasmine told her, which brought on more tears.

  Rose clicked off and went for a long walk along the marina behind the Convention Center, ending at Seacoast Village. She hoped to spot the gypsy sitting at her folding table, colorful scarves waving in the breeze. Rose wanted to ask her what she should do now that she’d told her lover goodbye. She needed her advice on how to fix things so they could keep With a Twist.

  But the gypsy wasn’t there, which only added to Rose’s misery.

  Around eleven the next morning, Valentine’s Day, Rose swung open the front door and walked into With a Twist, knowing Max was on a plane, moving farther and farther away from her. She’d finally come to terms with her fate, and knew it was what had to be, but it didn’t make it any less painful.

  Her tears had miraculously stopped sometime around midnight when the I Love Lucy marathon stopped and The Twilight Zone marathon began. Not that she wasn’t a fan of the show, she simply didn’t need to watch anything weird when her own life was weird enough.

  She’d turned off the TV and slept until nine-thirty that morning, dressed and walked to work without cleaning one thing in her condo. She barely even cleaned herself, not wanting to get into the shower because of the memories it conjured up. Instead she’d washed up at the sink, and dressed all in black. At the last minute, she slipped on bright red heart earrings in an attempt to look festive.

  The restaurant sparkled with hearts, flowers, and red and pink streamers shimmering from the ceiling. The wait staff seemed excited about their day as they busied themselves making sure the tables were perfectly set, and every minor detail had been addressed.

  She swung by the bar, hoping against hope to see the crystal awash with color, but instead it seemed almost clear now.

  It’s my fault.

  She was sure of it now. It was time to tell her friends what had happened.

  * * *

  After Rose had cleaned up from the somewhat busy lunch crowd, and had begun her prep for dinner, she screwed up her courage and walked back to Jasmine’s office.

  As she approached Jasmine spoke up. “We’ve got a full house booked for tonight,” she told Rose, while sitting at her desk. “Apparently, someone posted on Yelp and Facebook that we had open reservations and the phone has been ringing all through lunch. I had to turn a few reservations down. Go figure.”

  “It won’t last,” Rose said. “The crystal has lost its color.”

  Just then Daisy walked up looking as if she were about to cry.

  “It’s all my fault,” Rose said almost in unison with Jasmine who was busy apologizing.

  Daisy cut in. “I ruined everything.”

  Rose looked at her as if she were delusional. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I sent Max away two days ago. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jasmine said. “I did everything I could, but it’s just not going to work out. It’s my fault.”

  “You?” Daisy said. “I’m the one who screwed up. I really tried, but it was a complete disaster.”

  Both Jasmine and Daisy admitted what had gone wrong and how sorry they were, with Jasmine ending on a positive note of how they had started from scratch before and could do it again if With a Twist went under. One of the waitresses popped in and said they needed help at the bar and, wiping her tears, Daisy left to get back to work.

  When she was gone, Rose launched into her own sad story, “I told Max I was willing to go with him. To leave this all behind. But when he wanted me to leave today, this morning, on Valentine’s Day, I just knew I couldn’t do it.” She pulled in a deep breath trying not to cry again. “I’m so sorry. He left this morning and the bastard didn’t even send me an email this time.”

  Jasmine’s giggled.

  “How is this funny? I just told you how miserable I am. How I ruined everything and you guys think that’s funny?”

  “Rosie, have you looked in the bar area at all today?” Jasmine asked.

  “Don’t call me by that name. I hate it. And yes, when I first came in. That’s when I saw that pathetic looking crystal.”

  “So, you haven’t been out there since?”

  “No, why?”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “Max didn’t go to France,” Jasmine said. “He’s been staying with me. We had a long talk and—”

  But Rose didn’t wait to hear the end of the sentence. Elation swept over her in a flood of tears as she ran up the short hallway and then through the empty restaurant. When she rounded the corner and saw Max behind the glistening bar stirring it up with the customers she couldn’t control her happiness and went right for him.

  He caught her approach out of the corner of his eye and picked her up and spun her around in his strong arms, then kissed her to whistles and applause from the customers who now seemed to have multiplied.

  “I thought you were on a plane headed to France,” she said when he finally put her down.

  “Not without you. Besides, Bordeaux is highly overrated. I’m more into martinis.”

  “Then you’ve come to the right place. I hear this is a fabulous martini bar. The best in all of San Diego.”

  “You don’t say.”

  She nodded. “Yep and the guy who works here is a master mixologist.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  “His name is Maximilian Rosso, but he likes to travel a lot.”

  “Not anymore. They say he’s found exactly what he’s been looking for and she makes one hell of a martini.”

  “So tell me, just what has he been looking for?”

  “You,” he said in a deep rumbling voice that ticked her entire body.

  “But I’ve been here the whole time.”

  “I wasn’t ready to learn about love then, but I am now. Can you teach me everything you know about true love?”

  “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  “Rosie … “

  They kissed again, and when he pulled away he whispered in her ear. “Heavy cream and sweet butter.”

  She looked at him. “You do love me.”

  He tilted his head. “Was there ever any doubt?”

  Rose spotted the crystal up on the shelf, swirling with color so bright it hurt her eyes to look at it. “Never.”

  “Wow,” he said, following her gaze and looking up at the crystal. “That’s incredible.”

  “It sure is,” Rose said, and as she kissed him they were both encircled in a red shimmering glow.

  Epilogue

  Rose sat in the back of the limo in the only evening dress that would fit over her ever-expanding belly. Her mind should have been on Max who was sitting next to her dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, looking absolutely heavenly, but she couldn’t help wondering if everything was going well in her kitchen at With a Twist. There had been several reservations for parties over seven and she liked to be there to make sure everything went smoothly, but her new Sous-Chef had assured her several times that he could handle it. Which she knew he could, but still …

  So there she was, stuffed in a sky blue strapless gown, seven months pregnant, a white rose corsage strapped to her wrist, headed for a formal attire required lecture given by that same French winemaker Max had been so hot on last February.

  “This is it,” Max said as the limo came to a stop.

  Rose hadn’t really paid much attention to where they
were going, so when the driver came around and opened their door, she expected to see a theater in front of her. Instead, it was a group of buildings that looked a lot like their old high school.

  Max got out first and extended his hand to her. “He’s giving his lecture here?” she asked, completely dumbfounded by the location.

  Max chuckled. “Not exactly.”

  “Then why are we here?”

  “Something I needed to take care of before our baby comes.”

  Rose took her time exiting the limo. Getting out of the backseat of any vehicle was difficult enough, let alone a stretch limo.

  When she was upright and looked around, she realized they were standing in front of the school gym.

  “What’s this all about?” She knew her reasoning had gotten a little slow since her pregnancy, but for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why a French winemaker would want to give a lecture in a high school gym.

  Max chucked again. “You have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

  “Of course I do,” she said, trying to sound convincing.

  But she was totally clueless.

  Funny thing was, there was no one else around. No kids. No parents. No one else but the two of them.

  It hit her like a wet towel in the face: the dress, the limo, the tuxedo, and the corny sweet wrist corsage. “Max … what is this?”

  They were walking up to the double doors as the hard driving beat of a drum, and the steady deep vibration of a base guitar echoed from the other side.

  “You didn’t.”

  As he swung open the door and the music blasted her ears, he said, “But I did.”

  Rose walked under a banner that read, Senior Prom, 2002, then she stepped inside a massive room that was decorated entirely in gold and white, the same colors from the original prom that she’d never attended. Lights hung from the ceiling, a fine haze intensified everything, including the DJ, a guy wearing a white suit, who was spinning Pink’s Get The Party Started, the number one hit from their senior year.

  Daisy and Jasmine were tearing up the floor with their dates, but the rest of the room was completely empty.