WG2E All-For-Indies Anthologies: Winter Wonderland Edition

by Scott, D. D.

  Wynn glanced back at the ring. The milky sheen of the pearly white stone struck her as not particularly attractive—her least favorite of all gemstones. “You can have it if you want.”

  “Ack, no! It would just remind me of him, his thin lips, and that weird little baldy spot he has on the side of his head.” Gemma contorted her face in disgust.

  Wynn rolled her eyes. Kevin was attractive, not in a drop-dead-gorgeous kind of way, but ever since he cheated on her and they broke up, Gemma seemed to find a million shortcomings in his appearance. Then again, what man did meet Gemma’s standards for Wynn? Well, maybe Zane. And only because of his Botticelli good looks and her penchant for men in expensive suits.

  * * *

  It was almost four o’clock in the afternoon when Gemma and Wynn, exhausted and covered in flour, finished the last of their baking, ending with an assortment of desserts for Zane’s party. Side by side, they stood in the back of the kitchen, eyes dancing over the freshly scrubbed work counters and shelves filled with holiday orders. In the background, the muted sound of the door chime signaled the onslaught of guests filing in for their orders, last minute purchases, and, more than likely, a cup of coffee to ward off the winter chill. Wynn felt relief at knowing Kelly Stephens, her neighbor’s reliable, sixteen-year-old daughter, worked the counters out front.

  “Ugh. I can’t believe we now have to go home, shower, and take all of this stuff downtown,” Wynn said, as she leaned against Gemma.

  “Well, we certainly can’t go like this, so you can forget it. You’re just looking for an excuse to scurry into the party way before it starts, drop off the stuff and leave without ever having to lay eyes on Zane. No way. You’re going home, getting dolled up, and then we’re going.”

  The image of the fair haired woman by Zane’s side at the mall flashed through Wynn’s head. Why did seeing him matter anyway? Especially when he was already dating Miss USA? Wynn sneered. “Fine.”

  They walked towards the door in unison and put on their thick winter coats, their only protection against the frigid, December air. Wynn slid her slender hands into her gloves, but something didn’t feel right—her ring.

  The, now, spotless surface where she had placed it, showed no signs of the giant opal. Even after she ran her hands over the entire length of the table, she found no sign of the ring. Where was it? She bent over, scanning the floor for a glint of gold or anything that caught the light, but saw nothing. She stood up, panic seeping its way into her pores.

  Gemma stepped forward. “What’s wrong?”

  “My ring. The ring Kevin gave me. It’s gone. It’s not here!” Wynn said, searching every visible surface and turning up nothing.

  Gemma shrugged. “So, what? You wanted to get rid of it anyway. Let bygones be bygones,” she said with a flourish of her hand.

  Turning, Wynn’s eyes widened. “No. You don’t understand.” She moved to the trash can and started leafing through it, despite her ungloved hands. Apple peels, plastic wrap, piping bags slathered in bright frosting, egg shells, and used parchment paper commingled in the large can. But no ring.

  “Ew,” Gemma said at the sight of Wynn, elbow deep, in the trash.

  “It must have gone in one of the desserts.”

  Gemma cocked her head. Slowly, it dawned on her exactly what Wynn was saying. Her hands flew to her open mouth and her eyes popped wide. She bent over, laughter bubbling out of her like a fountain. “Oh, shit. Oh, shit!”

  “Gemma, you’re not helping.” She stomped her foot. “What are we going to do? We have about sixty dozen cookies, twenty pies, a dozen cakes, plus everything else, and all of the desserts for Zane’s party. It could be anywhere!”

  Gemma recognized the rising hysteria in Wynn’s voice and the seriousness of the situation, stifling her laughter accordingly. “Are you sure? I mean, there’s no way it fell somewhere? You didn’t move it and forget?”

  “No! And where could it have gone? I looked everywhere. It’s not here!” Wynn scoured the floor and shelves for a third time.

  “Okay. Okay. Don’t panic.” Gemma bit her lip, trying to come up with a solution while Wynn waited, staring at her with the pleading of a little girl begging for one more piece of candy. “It’s obvious we can’t remake anything. It would take too much time and we have to be at the party in a couple hours. Let’s start checking all of the cookies and the scones. They’re not as large or thick, and you never know, if the ring went into them, chances are we’ll see it. Then we’ll take it from there.”

  Wynn anxiously bobbed her head in agreement, reminding Gemma of one of those cheesy Hawaiian dashboard figurines. “Okay, let’s do it.”

  * * *

  The sweet scent of confections and pastries wafted through the air as Wynn arranged the petite fours with care onto the three tiered glass display. She stepped back from the dessert tables and eyed them, checking the arrangement for its aesthetic value, and for the millionth time, her missing ring. Despite their best efforts, Wynn and Gemma had been unable to spot it in any of the desserts or pastries and were left with no choice but to hope and pray the ring had not gone in any of the batters or dough, after all.

  Semi-satisfied, she turned to Gemma who helped no more than usual. “Hey, you could always tell all your customers that whoever finds the ring in their pastry, wins a prize. You know, kinda like the baby-in-a-cake at baby showers.” Gemma’s painted lips twitched, repressing a chuckle.

  Wynn peered at her under arched brows. “That’s not funny.” Her gaze fell to Gemma’s breasts, mounds of pale flesh above silky, red fabric—much too exposed for her taste. Though slimming, Gemma’s dress was too tight and revealed more leg than necessary. Plus, it was ridiculously dressy for delivering desserts to a hired event. Gemma insisted it was festive, however, and that the “hotties” at the party (and there were bound to be hotties, she claimed) could ogle her goodies so-to-speak, while they ogled the goodies—or the desserts, rather. Wynn hadn’t argued, even though she figured she could have eventually gotten her way. The effort seemed a waste of energy.

  Wynn followed Gemma’s gaze, her eyes fixed on something in the distance—Zane. He walked in their direction. Frantic, Wynn spun back around, taking one last glance at the table. It looked perfect. A huge selection of tarts, fancy cookies, candies and cakes covered the table in a beautiful arrangement. A smorgasbord of confectionary heaven atop varying sized glass and silver tiered stands, trays, and dishes. There was nothing left for her to fix or tweak. She was finished.

  Sighing, she admonished herself for her churning stomach and mixture of emotions. She fidgeted with her hands, unsure of what to do. From behind her, the click of Gemma’s heals came closer. “He didn’t come with anyone. If he had a girlfriend, especially the woman we saw him with, don’t you think he’d bring her? I mean, it’s strange that he would come here alone.”

  Wynn turned to face Gemma and said nothing. She glanced over to see Zane gaining on them. “Maybe she just couldn’t make it. The holidays are a busy time. Her absence doesn’t mean anything.”

  “I disagree.” Gemma’s gaze swept the length of Wynn’s body in disgust, taking in her plain khaki pants and pale blue, cashmere sweater, obviously finding them lacking. “You could have worn something a bit more provocative. Something that actually shows you’re interested, rather than the message that you’d rather be at home, alphabetizing your bookshelves.”

  “First of all, he doesn’t care if I’m interested. And second of all, if he does, then he’ll like me no matter what I’m wearing.”

  “That is so cliché.” Gemma rolled her eyes, but before she could say anything else, Zane appeared in front of them, sharp as ever in dark jeans, a collared green shirt, and charcoal blazer. He said a brief hello, acknowledging Gemma, until his gaze landed on Wynn and stayed there.

  A stab of pleasure rippled through her. He hadn’t paid any attention to Gemma’s tight dress or her cleavage.

  Gemma must have noticed too because she shot Wynn a l
ook her out of the corner of her eye, which read, “See? He is so into you.”

  “This looks amazing,” Zane said, gesturing towards the table. “I can’t thank you enough. I’m sure your desserts will be a big hit.”

  “Do you like Opals, Zane?” Gemma asked, her face serious.

  Wrinkles creased between Zane’s brows. “What?”

  Warning flashed in the blue of Wynn’s eyes, while her fingers played over the naked spot on her left ring finger.

  “Oh, nothing. Did you see? Wynn made two pumpkin pies.”

  Wynn cleared her throat. “I can stop by and pick up the empty trays and displays after the party. Did you need anything else before we go?”

  Zane smile fell. “Uh, no. Don’t worry about coming back. If you don’t need them, I can return them when you open back up on Tuesday. But why don’t you stay for a while?” He touched her arm briefly, then let his hand fall back to his side and placed it in his pocket. “There’s going to be food and free drinks. Some of these suits are boring, but if you stick with me, I can show you who to stay away from,” he said, smiling, his straight, white teeth gleaming like a row of fine pearls.

  Wynn hesitated. Part of her wanted to stay and spend the evening with him, but another part of her was afraid to. What if Gemma was wrong? What if he wasn’t interested in her in a romantic manner? He had always been friendly with her. What if that was the extent to it, that he simply considered her a friend, nothing more? If she stayed and had a good time tonight, it would only solidify the deep seeded hope Gemma had planted. The one that, if Wynn was being honest with herself, had lain dormant since the first day he had come into her shop, that maybe, just maybe, she could have someone like Zane Anders.

  She sensed Gemma’s blazing brown eyes on the side of her head, searing a hole right through her. She tried to read Zane’s expression, afraid the hope she saw there was really something altogether different.

  Pushing fear and nerves aside, she managed to speak. “Okay. I can stay for a little while.”

  Zane’s smiled spread across his angular face, revealing a single dimple. “Great. There are some people over here I’d like you to meet.” He turned and nodded for Gemma to follow and reached out, clasping Wynn’s hand in his own, pulling her across the marble floors, towards the far end of the room near the bar.

  Heat trailed from Wynn’s hand, through her arm, and into her cheeks as she relished the feeling of his skin, warm and slightly rough, next to hers. She glanced over at Gemma, whose raised eyebrows and wide eyes peered at their linked hands as she mouthed, “I told you so.”

  With her head spinning, Wynn reminded herself to play it cool. But the way her hand fit perfectly inside of his and the pleading look in his cobalt blue eyes when he asked her to stay, kept coming back at her, making it more than difficult.

  He stopped several feet from the bar. “First, let’s get you two a drink before you meet my dreadful coworkers. Don’t worry, it’s on me,” he said with a wink.

  Wynn nearly melted. The corners of her mouth curled. “I thought you said it was a free bar.”

  He chuckled. “You caught me. What would you ladies like?”

  “I’m going to need something strong if I’m going to have to suffer through a night of you two ogling each other.” Gemma grimaced.

  “White wine’s good.” Wynn glared at Gemma, who cocked her head and flashed a sweet smile in exchange.

  “Great. I’ll be right back.”

  Wynn watched Zane leave—the clipped movement of his shoes on the floor, his long stride, and easy banter with the bartender. With three drinks in his hands, Zane turned. Their eyes met for a second and had Wynn glancing away, but not before the electric jolt shot up her spine.

  He returned and handed a glass of white wine to both her and Gemma, his fingers lingered next to Wynn’s longer than necessary on the glass.

  Perceptive as always, Gemma raised her glass in thanks and said, “Well, it’s been real, but I’ve got my eye on a cute blond in the back, so I’ll see you two kids later.” Without another glance, she left, making a beeline for a tall man next to the bar, chatting it up with two other men.

  Shaking her head, Wynn returned her gaze to Zane.

  “She’s something else, isn’t she?” he said.

  Wynn took a sip of her wine. “That’s my Gemma. Life just wouldn’t be the same without her, less blunt and sassy, but definitely not the same. We’ve been friends since high school.”

  “It’s great that you have each other.” Zane paused, took a sip of his drink. “So, what are your plans for Christmas? You have a lot of family, right?”

  Wynn nodded. “Yeah, I do. I usually do my rounds on Christmas Eve. So tomorrow, I’ll start around supper time. Then I usually spend Christmas itself at my mom’s house. My sister and brother come in for it too, as do a couple of aunts and uncles. I have a rather large family and we all tend to come together for the holidays. It’s pretty nice, actually. All those people would drive some people batty—Gemma, for example. But I just don’t think Christmas is the same without a ton of people to share it with.”

  “I know what you mean. My family isn’t very big, but still, my two brothers and sister come in from out of state, and every year we spend Christmas at my parents’. It wouldn’t be the same without getting to see my nephews tearing into their gifts.”

  Zane took a long sip of his beer, eyeing Wynn over the rim of his glass. Her nerves ruffled and her stomach dipped in response to his eyes on her. All she could think about was how it would feel to be his, if she were a part of his holiday. She pictured what it would be like to leave the party together, to spend the next morning and afternoon, tangled up in paper and bows as they wrapped last minute gifts for their families, trying not to mix up the name tags—maybe sneaking in a surprise gift for one another. Smiling, Wynn forced herself to push the image away. She needed to take things one step at a time.

  “What about your boyfriend?” Zane’s eyes remained on his beer, his face solemn. “That guy you’ve been dating a while? I don’t know his name, and I haven’t heard you mention him for a while. Will he be spending tomorrow with you?”

  With her heart racing, Wynn said, “No, not this year. We—” She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes catching on something in the distance. For a moment, her stomach lurched, and the floor seemed to drop out from under her feet. Just behind Zane, beside the large swinging doors, entered the woman from the mall—the one that had been by his side at the perfume counter. A short, black dress sheathed her slender figure, accentuating it at all the right angles. Her blonde hair trailed down her back in a wave of spun gold.

  Wynn blushed. She had been foolish to believe Zane was actually interested in her. How could she have so easily forgotten the woman she had seen him with? She took her wine glass and set it down on the nearest table, only glancing up long enough to see Zane’s frown and furrowed brow. A lump formed in her throat, making it difficult to speak. “I’d better get going. I have a lot to do tomorrow.” She turned to leave at the exact moment the blond’s gaze landed on Zane and she made a beeline for him.

  Zane’s hand clasped down over Wynn’s arm. “Wait. Wynn, please stay. Did you ride with Gemma? At least let me drive you home.”

  With a shake of her head, Wynn avoided his gaze. She tried to smile, but found the effort exhausting. “I’m sorry. I just realized I forgot to get my brother-in-law a present. And I’ve got a ton of wrapping and baking of my own to do. I really need to go.”

  Gently shrugging his hand off of her, she left the room without another glance in his direction, brushing past the blond on her way out.

  Chapter Five

  Zane watched Wynn leave, wondering what in the hell he did wrong. He didn’t consider himself a Casanova by any means, but he certainly wasn’t that bad. What was it about her that got to him so much? And why did she always seem to keep him at an arm’s distance?

  Zane glanced around the room, no longer wanting to be there. The memory of Wyn
n’s laughter and bright eyes, fluttered around him like a ghost—fleeting and intangible. The murmured conversations in the room were dull, consisting of egocentric workaholics and a lack of excitement for holiday plans. The only thing interesting about the party, the only person capable of warm, intelligible conversation, just went out the door, taking his desire to stay and mingle with her.

  He took a long drink from his Heineken and turned towards the bar to get another.

  A manicured hand curled around his forearm. “Hey there, stranger.”

  Shit. Zane bit back the expletive before it escaped his lips. “Meredith, what are you doing here?”

  Smiling, her overly bleached teeth were a startling contrast to her hot pink lips. “You invited me. Remember?” she said, her voice innocent.

  Zane shook his head. “That was before we broke up, before you cheated on me. Remember?” He brushed past her towards the bar, but the click of heels behind him signaled she was not giving up that easy.

  He took the drink the bartender offered and gave him a grateful smile along with a big tip. Turning, he expected Meredith on his heels, both because of her uncanny persistence and the overpowering smell of her Poison perfume.

  The fizz of his beer burned in his stomach and throat, as he nearly emptied it—his fortification for whatever came next. “I think you should go home,” he said, trying his best to maintain his cool. He had known she was up to something, from her recent phone calls and then the trip to the mall, and now it was obvious what it was. She wanted him back.

  Meredith’s lips curled, snaking a smile across her slender face. “Come on, Zane. You know that’s not what you really want.” Smoothing her hands over the buttons of his shirt, her fingers lingered just above the top button over his bare skin. “Why don’t we get a drink, and then you can come back to my place.”

  Zane’s jaw clenched. He noticed the way the other men in the room gaped at her, the way they looked at him with both envy and admiration, but he was tired of it. “Meredith,” he said, drawing out her name, hoping to get through to her. “We’re over.”