Charmed by Chocolate (Love at the Chocolate Shop Book 6)

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Charmed by Chocolate (Love at the Chocolate Shop Book 6) Page 5

by Steena Holmes


  She swiped her face with the long sleeve of her pajama top, popped another piece of chocolate into her mouth, and scrolled through the stations for another mind-numbing show to watch.

  Leah didn’t need to look at the clock to know she’d wasted the rest of her day lounging in bed, cocooned beneath the mound of covers, watching sappy movie after sappy movie.

  She had the heap of discarded tissues to prove it.

  When her cell phone buzzed, Leah jumped, tossing some of those tissues onto the floor.

  She was half tempted to shut the phone off without looking to see who’d sent her a text, except her brother promised to bring her food home after his shift at the radio station, but only if she answered.

  He didn’t understand what the stress of keeping her phone on meant. Didn’t see the messages from so-called friends wanting to check in on her, the notifications about the latest gossip site article calling her Lonely Leah.

  God, she hated this person she’d become since that ridiculous show.

  Since Wade turned her down, if she were being honest.

  What happened to the strong, charismatic, independent woman she’d grown to become? Where’d she go?

  She shouldn’t be jumping because of a phone call. She shouldn’t be scared to open her laptop and read the news feeds.

  She should be confronting the issue. Placing blame where blame was due…except, she couldn’t.

  She had to keep her nose clean, her head down, and let things blow over. For the good of her job. For the good of the charity.

  She wouldn’t always be like this…right? So indecisive and…weak.

  Pizza or Chinese? Dylan asked via message.

  After all the chocolate she’d eaten, she didn’t have much of an appetite.

  Either one. Hellllooo, indecisive Leah.

  Hot cocoa, too?

  Leah snorted. She could answer that one easily. Didn’t matter she’d drank three hot cocoas earlier today.

  More chocolates too, please?

  She also didn’t really need more chocolate but…

  What happened to the stuff I brought home yesterday?

  Leah eyed the almost empty box—except this was the box she’d bought earlier.

  Jack has an addiction you should get taken care of. I seriously don’t think it’s healthy for him to be eating chocolate. It’s poisonous or something to cats, isn’t it?

  She wasn’t sure if Dylan would buy the idea that his cat ate her chocolate, but it was worth a shot.

  Rrriiight. Grams is joining us for dinner, so get out of bed. Don’t bother arguing. I’m always right—you should know that by now.

  Sure, she typed. Rub it in my face.

  How did he know she was in bed? Some days Dylan scared her with how well he knew her.

  He’d warned her not to go on that dating reality show. Warned her it would do more damage than good.

  She wished she’d listened to him.

  But of course, Leah thought she knew better. She’d let her best friend, who worked in the production crew, talk her into it. Betsy was always in crisis mode, and Leah should have remembered that.

  But Betsy needed help and that was what Leah did best…helped others. Especially Betsy.

  Always Betsy.

  So, of course, she said yes.

  It wasn’t like she was there to fall in love.

  In fact, she wasn’t even sure she liked the bachelor, truth be told.

  But she’d also never expected to make a fool of herself on national television.

  So here she was, in a town she never wanted to return to, with a career about to tank, curled up in a bed she hadn’t slept in for years, and watching the sappiest movies she could find all because she didn’t want to face reality.

  She could have done that back home except when she’d pulled up into her driveway, cameras flashed while reporters harassed her for comments not only about the big revelation she’d admitted, but also about the fact she’d drank alcohol.

  Not of her choosing, mind you. She’d been played.

  Would Charmed ever admit that? Not in this lifetime. Betsy begged her to understand, to not rock the boat, and to just lie low.

  Lonely Leah was what they called her in the tabloid and on the entertainment shows. At least it wasn’t anything worse.

  Lonely Leah who drank herself silly on national television and admitted to the world that she’d always been in love with a boy from back home.

  What a fool she’d been.

  She couldn’t stay in Marietta long. She knew this. Once people got wind of the things she’d said and the confessions she’d made, she wouldn’t exactly be welcomed back with open arms.

  One did not just bad talk Marietta on national television and get away with it.

  She just needed the frenzy to die down. Her boss told her to lay low, to stay out of the news if she wanted to keep her job.

  Leah rolled into a ball on the bed, arms clutched tight to a teddy bear that Wade, the one who’d stolen her heart years ago, had given her when she’d turned sixteen. She wished she could erase the past five days from her life.

  She wished she’d never gone on that show.

  She wished she’d paid attention to what she’d been drinking. They promised her it was pomegranate juice and club soda. She’d never have known it was really dessert wine and club soda. Of course she wouldn’t have known. She’d never even taken a sip of alcohol before. Combine that with the fact she’d barely eaten anything all day, and it had been a recipe for disaster.

  She wished she’d ignored the producers who asked her question after question after question about her lack of relationships until she broke down in tears, admitting the real reason why she never dated.

  She wished a lot of things but, unfortunately, there was no wishing star available or magical cricket to make all her dreams come true.

  If only life were like a fairy tale.

  Not wanting to think about her humiliation any more, Leah forced herself out of her bed. She cleaned up, tossing all the tissues in the garbage, and then attempted to brush her knotted hair, giving up and placing it in a messy bun instead.

  By the time she made it downstairs, her brother held the door open for Grams, who held a tray in her hands.

  The look she gave Leah almost had her walking back up the stairs and hiding beneath her covers once more.

  Almost.

  Their walk back from the chocolate shop had been fairly quiet. Despite the plethora of questions Grams had peppered her with, Leah remained silent. Grams deserved answers, she deserved to know the truth, but Leah wasn’t ready. She needed more time.

  She’d walked Grams up to the retirement home but rather than invite her in, Grams had dismissed her, saying that Leah obviously needed some alone time. Grams had been hurt by Leah’s silence—that much was clear. And Leah felt bad, she really did…but…not bad enough to apologize and confess everything.

  The phone call earlier had unsettled her, to say the least. As did the seven text messages from Betsy begging her to return her calls and the forward from other friends about things being said online.

  All she wanted to do was run and hide, pretend like none of this had ever happened.

  Obviously, her grandmother had other things planned. If the thinned white lips didn’t give it away, the solid stare said enough.

  Leah was in the dog house with Grams, and being in that proverbial dog house was never a good thing.

  When she was little, her grandmother used to have a dog—a happy, excitable Sheltie that was spoiled worse than any grandchild had ever been. When they’d first got the dog, her grandfather had built a dog house in the backyard, complete with a chain that would leave enough room for the dog to roam in the yard.

  When Grams had seen that contraption, she had one thing to say about it.

  It wasn’t large enough.

  Her grandfather hadn’t understood. For him, dogs belonged outside, but for Grams, her sweet little Sheltie would sleep at the
foot of their bed and if he wanted to complain about it, well then, he could go sleep in the dog house and see how it felt. In fact, she even locked him outside that night after they argued about how much she spoiled that dog.

  That Sheltie had never slept one night outside. Her grandfather couldn’t say the same.

  “Take this, will you?” Grams held out the tray that contained three coffee cups. Leah gladly took it and led the way into the kitchen where she started to set the table while her brother unloaded the bags of food in his hands.

  “The food smells delicious,” Leah casually mentioned, hoping to cut the obvious tension between them all.

  Dylan gave a small shake of his head as he sat down at the table.

  Leah waited until Grams had sat down before she followed suit.

  She didn’t like the atmosphere between them all. There was a coldness, an awkwardness she knew was her fault.

  Three mouthfuls later, Grams tossed down her fork, breathed in deep, and broke the silence.

  “I am not leaving tonight until you explain everything to me. And I mean everything.”

  Leah glanced at Dylan, who rolled his eyes in his I-told-you-so way he had down so well.

  “Can I eat my moo shoo pork and egg rolls first?”

  The frown on Grams’ face deepened. “Don’t get lippy with me. I let you off this afternoon, figured you needed time to sulk in private, but enough is enough.”

  “I wasn’t sulking.” Leah had watched sappy movies and balled like a baby instead.

  The arch of Grams’ brow rose to amazing heights and had Leah squirming in her seat.

  “How about we all eat up and then we can have that family chat in the living room, okay?” Dylan offered his suggestion, one that Leah had no problem agreeing to.

  She took her time eating her meal, one small bite at a time—anything to prolong the inevitable.

  Betsy sent a few texts. After getting some pointed looks from her grandmother, Leah finally responded with a brief message.

  Let’s talk tomorrow. In a family meeting. I blame it on you—just a FYI.

  It’s okay, Betsy texted back. I deserve it. I’ll make it up to you, promise. Talk later.

  Make it up to her? Leah wasn’t sure if she liked the sound of that.

  After all the excess food was put away and the dishes washed, the three sat in the living room, Leah curled up on the couch, Grams in the chair across from her, and Dylan lounged on the floor in front of the fireplace with Jack in his lap, purring louder than a freight train.

  “How much of what I’ve read in the magazines is true?” Grams asked, not mincing words.

  “About half.” But half was enough.

  Grams gave a deep nod. “So you weren’t drunk then, right?”

  Leah winced, hating having to admit the truth. “I was. There’s no excuse. I should have known better. The producers had me sitting in the hot sun with no food and swore they were only giving me non-alcoholic pomegranate juice. They needed the ‘bubbly’ effect for the cameras. I was alone, tired, hungry, and…wasn’t paying attention.” She hated thinking back to that day.

  She’d been forced to wear a bathing suit that revealed much more than she preferred and encouraged to swim and lie in the sun all day long, to work on her tan.

  Leah didn’t tan. She burned like a farmer’s tomato, so she tried to stay in the shade as much as she could.

  The other girls didn’t talk to her much. They all knew she wasn’t supposed to be there. Hell, everyone including the crew knew she wasn’t supposed to be there. But, for some reason, the bachelor kept calling her name as he handed out the roses.

  She wasn’t sure why. In fact, one night she’d even declined to take it until Betsy came out and gave her big, sad eyes and begged her to stay one more night, for her.

  Everything about this whole catastrophe had been for and because of Betsy.

  “That doesn’t explain why you stayed if you only agreed to one night,” Dylan piped up.

  “Betsy’s job was on the line. She was low on the totem pole with something to prove and there were bets between the producers about whose girls would stay longer. They all thought Betsy’s girls would be out first, and she wanted to prove them wrong. There’s a bonus each week their girls stayed in…” Even as she said it, it sounded lame and made Betsy look money hungry. She wasn’t, but Leah could see how it would look.

  “I love that girl, I really do, but…” Grams rubbed her face. “Seriously, Leah, when is enough enough?”

  Leah really had no response. This wasn’t the first time Grams had said this. Heck, everyone in her life basically said the same thing and yet…she couldn’t get out of the Betsy vortex.

  “I’ve watched the show for years and didn’t think any harm would come of it. All the one-on-ones I spent with the bachelor, we talked about my past and my passions. I know I was able to spread word about the harm of drinking and driving and—”

  “If they didn’t edit it out.” Dylan stretched and dislodged Jack from his lap. “I doubt any of that info will see any airtime. Trust me…if it doesn’t suit their purposes, they’re not going to show it.”

  “Betsy promised me they would.” Leah needed to believe that. She had to believe that something good came out of all this craziness.

  “I know you’re a half-full type of person, but sometimes the cup is just half-empty.” Dylan joined her on the couch.

  “I can’t believe they would get you drunk.” Grams leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Isn’t there something you can do? Sue them or something…”

  Leah shook her head. “I signed a contract. I also really don’t want to put Betsy’s job in jeopardy by saying anything bad, you know?”

  “Not even if it means you lose your job? Does she care about that?” The chastisement in her brother’s voice hurt.

  “Of course she cares.” Leah felt a strong need to defend her friend, despite everything that happened. “She promised to donate all the extra money she earned by me staying on to KIND.” That was enough. It had to be.

  By the look on her family’s face, they didn’t think it was.

  “So the humiliation, the reporters staked outside your house, the nickname the media gave you, hiding here at home—that’s all worth it to you then?” Dylan challenged her.

  Leah pulled up legs, drawing her knees tight to her face and rocking herself slightly. “No.” That one single word tore out of her with an agony she tried hard to ignore. The tears gathering in her eyes were honest and heartfelt, and a small part of her wanted to rail on her best friend for placing her in this situation. Okay, a large part of her but…

  “What can we do to help?” Grams asked. Her voice was laced with both concern and determination. In that moment, Leah loved her more than life.

  “You need to counteract everything the media is saying. They’re calling you Lonely Leah, so prove to them you’re not.” Dylan stood and stepped toward the living room window, pulling the curtains aside to look out.

  “How exactly do you propose I do that? They’re calling me Lonely Leah because of what I confessed while drunk. I can’t exactly ignore that or pretend it didn’t happen.”

  “How did they find out, anyway?” Grams asked.

  Leah puffed out a breath of air. She wished she knew. Betsy swore she didn’t tell. The contestants had no access to the outside world, so best Leah could imagine, one of the other producers or staff members had blabbed. Except, she didn’t understand why.

  It wasn’t like the show was boring and they needed to create interest in the bachelor. He’d been on one of the previous seasons and had been well loved. The girls vying for his love fell all over him, and the amount of catfights and emotional breakdowns were plenty to keep viewers interested. Why they would focus on her…she couldn’t understand it.

  “I wish I knew. I really do. Maybe it was a slow gossip week and they needed something, anything, to fill papers with.”

  “It sounded orchestrated to me.” Dylan m
assaged his chin. “Almost like they planned this to happen. Placing you in the sun, not giving you food, plying you with alcohol…you were a scene waiting to be played. Someone there didn’t like you and wanted you to go down in flames.”

  “Maybe they won’t play it when the show airs.” Grams sounded almost hopeful.

  Leah snorted. “Oh, they’ll play it all right. No one’s mentioned it yet, but the speech I was given during the rose ceremony was scripted. It’ll be good ratings—small-town-tea-tottling-country-girl-sloshed-out-of-her-mind… There’s no way they won’t play that up.” She buried her head in her hands, remembering the exit interview she was forced to do.

  Grams pushed herself up from the chair and sat down beside Leah, reaching for her hand as she did so. “By the time it airs, all of this will have been forgotten about. Until then, we’ll do what we’ve always done, stick together as a family.” She squeezed hard.

  A large pit dropped in Leah’s stomach as she caught the glint in Grams’ eyes. She knew what that meant. Grams was already scheming.

  “First things first, you need to stop hiding.” By the way she nodded her head, Leah knew Grams expected her words to be truth.

  Except they weren’t. Not for Leah. Hiding was all Leah wanted to do.

  “You don’t understand, Grams.” She never would either—not unless Leah confessed everything to her.

  “It wasn’t just that I got drunk and confessed all the deep dark secrets in my heart…” She winced at the memory of that moment, when she sat in that tiny room, surrounded by cameras and lights and the producers across from her who kept barraging her with questions, one after another, without giving her time to really think about what she was saying…

  “Like saying how in love you are with Wade?” Grams asked.

  Leah had a small coughing fit, choking on her words as she did so.

  “Like that’s really news.” Grams rolled her eyes. “It was all everyone could talk about this morning over breakfast.” She shook her head. “Darling, if you think anyone in this town would be surprised to learn about that, you’re living in a dreamland. We’ve all known you two were meant for each other, ever since you were kids.”

 

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