by Holly Rayner
Chase headed toward a booth in the corner and slid in, and Annabelle followed suit.
“What, you don’t want to be recognized in such a place?” she said, referring to his choice of a hidden corner booth.
Chase grinned. “Maybe I just feel like a little privacy with my new friend.”
Annabelle rolled her eyes. “I hardly think we can consider ourselves friends, Frost.”
“Ah, there is it, my last name again. You know, you could do with a little thawing out yourself, Annabelle. After all, I’m about to buy you a gourmet meal. You still hungry? I could go for a good snack after those tiny plates.”
Before she could respond, an old woman with a scraggly gray bun walked over and gave Chase a toothy smile.
“Been a while since you’ve been in here, young man. I’d recognize you anyway, no matter how fancy you dress.”
“Hi, Joanne,” Chase said, and Annabelle was surprised by the warmth in his tone.
The woman reached out a hand and Chase grasped it firmly before she pulled it back and took out a notepad and golf pencil.
“So, what will you have?”
“I think a number four will suffice. We already ate, you see.”
Joanne nodded. “And to drink, sweetie?”
Annabelle watched their exchange with interest. With this woman, Chase was respectful and kind, considerate to a fault. It contrasted so sharply with the man she’d seen at his office that Annabelle couldn’t relate one version of him to the other.
Chase turned that stare on her, and his expression was impish.
“Your best hot cocoa, for both of us please.”
“You got it, sugar.”
Annabelle couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer. She leaned in and placed her elbows on the table as Joanne retreated to the kitchens. “All right, spill. How does a man like you know about a place like this? And not only that, is clearly a favorite of the wait staff!”
Chase laughed. “What, I’m not allowed to enjoy good food when I find it?”
Annabelle crossed her arms and sat back, waiting for the real answer.
Finally, Chase relented, leaning back into his seat. “I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, but I did have one really good friend named Sam. Sam’s mom married into wealth, and he got bullied a lot for that. One day, he was about to get beaten up behind our school, and I joined his side. We beat the heck out of those guys, and they never bothered us again. That’s how we became friends.”
Chase sighed heavily. “Sam was a really important friend to me. You see, my parents died when I was very young. They were flying my dad’s plane and got caught in a storm. I was four years old at the time.”
“Oh Chase, I’m so sorry,” Annabelle gasped.
Chase nodded forlornly. “Their will dictated that I be raised in our family home, and my dad’s business partners sent me from nanny to nanny. No one ever really stayed for long, and I became a bit of a loner. I was the kid that had all the money and no family to share it with.”
Annabelle took a moment to let that sink in. Chase had spent decades without the love of a family or the feeling of home. No wonder he had grown into a man without feelings…
Or had he? It was clear he had the capacity to care for others, in some way. He truly was a puzzle.
Then she realized something.
“You spoke about Sam in the past tense. Why?”
Chase’s expression fell. He gazed around at the gaudy Christmas decorations scattered around the restaurant. The colorful paper chains, the small manger scene in the window. It was a far cry from the glittering white and gold world they had come from, but he seemed to find comfort in it nonetheless.
“Sam and I used to come here whenever we had a bad day. We’d eat and drink cocoa and pretend that we were part of another world, one where we were accepted.” Chase paused for a moment, sighing deeply. “Sam died two years ago. Cancer. It was like one minute he was here, the next he was gone.”
Unable to help herself, Annabelle reached out across the table and gripped Chase’s hand. He stared at her hand on his for a moment before patting it gently, their hands piled up on the table.
“The things you’ve been though, I can’t even begin to imagine…” Annabelle whispered.
She thought about her parents and sister, all the friends she’d had during her life. She had never felt lost or alone—outside of teenage angst, anyway—and she realized in that moment just how much she took for granted.
“Sam played an integral role in the building of Frost Energy. He was with me from day one; my greatest ally. When he died, I think I became even more ambitious, wanting to respect his memory by expanding the company further and further.”
Annabelle watched Chase carefully as he spoke. While his words were restrained, focused on business, the feeling behind them was clear. He had been hurt, and he had used whatever means necessary to find justice for what had happened to him. On one level, she understood that. Still, while she was learning that there was so much more to this man, it was clear that without family or friends—or love—his primary objective was to increase his own wealth, and see to his business’ success over anything else.
“Well, enough about me. I’d hate to damper this evening with more of my depressing stories. Tell me more about yourself.”
Annabelle paused, considering her answer. The truth was, her life at present had been consumed with protesting against the man sitting across from her, but Chase had been open and kind with her, and she wanted to return the favor.
“I grew up in Bluewater. My parents own a bakery there, but I hate to bake, and I got a job working in tourism because I never wanted to be trapped in an office. I’ve spent the past few years giving tours on a boat owned by some family friends of ours.”
Chase grinned. “I would like to see you give a tour. I imagine you can make anything interesting.”
Annabelle frowned. “I’d love to give you one, only the business was shut down this past weekend, due to a lack of tourists in the area. I’m hopeful that will change, now that you’ve come to your senses.”
Chase cleared his throat, suddenly looking awkward.
Fortunately, they were saved by Joanne, who arrived with two generous slices of apple pie and two mugs of hot cocoa. Chase and Annabelle thanked her warmly, and Annabelle’s eyes widened as she looked down at the plates.
“Late night dessert, huh?”
“I think you’ll find the cocoa is exquisite.”
“I have my reservations,” Annabelle said, tentatively lifting the mug and blowing on the steaming liquid. It did look pretty good, though anything was better than the watery mugful she’d been handed on the Craggy Maiden just the other day.
Finally, Annabelle took a small sip. When she glanced up, she realized Chase was watching her with rapt attention.
“All right, it’s good,” she conceded, and he clapped.
“Ha! I know you’d like it. She melts the chocolate and keeps it warm in a vat so it can simmer in its own flavor.”
“When you put it that way, it sounds disgusting.”
“Just drink. The apple pie is equally delicious.”
“Why would you take me to a fried chicken place for apple pie and cocoa?”
“You deserve the best there is. This place just so happens to also serve some pretty good chicken. So what?”
Annabelle truly enjoyed her drink, and when she took a bite of flaky pastry and spiced apples, she nearly moaned out loud. It really was delicious, and it just hit the spot.
“This reminds me of Christmas morning,” Annabelle sighed.
“You eat pie for breakfast on Christmas?” Chase asked, the corner of his lip twitching.
“I could if I wanted, but I’m talking about the cocoa. Why, did you get to eat pie for breakfast on Christmas morning?”
Chase shrugged. “I basically got to do whatever I wanted. There wasn’t a present I didn’t already have, and without my parents there was really no reason to
celebrate the holiday anyway. Sometimes I’d go over to Sam’s, but nowadays it’s not something I think about. Just another day we’re closed for business.”
Annabelle stared at him in disbelief.
“You never celebrated Christmas as a child? You don’t do anything to mark the day now?”
Chase looked confused, like he couldn’t figure out why she was so upset. “It’s just another day in the year, Annabelle. There’s nothing exciting about materialism and eating carbs. I could do that any day of the year.”
“You have got to be kidding me!”
“I don’t kid,” Chase said, and his expression was serious for a conversation about Christmas. “Though, I do believe I have some decorations stored away in a closet from a few years ago—I mistakenly thought it might be fun to have a holiday party at my apartment.”
Annabelle leaned in. “So what you’re saying is, you have decorations at your house right now?”
Chase lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “Yes.”
Annabelle stood abruptly, grabbing her jacket and sliding it back on before holding Chase’s out to him.
“We have to go. You can’t have Christmas only two days away and not have something to decorate your apartment. I insist we do this right now—just make it part of the agreement!”
Chase’s expression was pure bewilderment as he stood, took the proffered jacket, and tossed a few bills on the table, waving goodbye to Joanne as Annabelle dragged him from the establishment.
Looking up and down the street, she searched for a cab to pick them up as Chase shrugged back into his coat.
“It seems like you forgot how we got here in the first place,” Chase said, pulling out his phone and placing a quick call to his driver.
Within a minute, the town car pulled up in front of them, and Chase opened the door to let Annabelle slide in.
“We really don’t need to do this, Annabelle. I’m not Scrooge in need of a Christmas miracle. I simply don’t celebrate the day. I don’t begrudge anyone who does.”
Annabelle shook her head, determined. “Nonsense. You’re only saying that because you don’t realize how magical this time of year can be. If I accomplish nothing else, I should at least say I tried to bring a little Christmas cheer to Chase Frost.”
“Well aren’t you just Santa’s little helper,” he smirked.
“Don’t be facetious. I’m in a position to help you with something, so you might as well enjoy the ride.”
Chase sighed dramatically before draping his arm along the back of the seat. Annabelle did her best not to focus on the openness of his body. She could so easily slide over and be nestle beneath the crook of his arm.
Christmas. This was about Christmas.
THIRTEEN
The car drove several blocks before stopping outside a sleek, silvery building. Chase opened the door and bid the driver goodnight before escorting Annabelle though the front doors and to an elevator.
When they got in, he pressed the top button, and Annabelle scoffed.
“Of course you live in the penthouse suite. Have you always lived here?”
“Not always. The family house is still around, but I don’t have many good memories associated with the place, so I don’t often visit.”
Reminded of his tragic past, Annabelle fell silent as the elevator car rose.
As they wound up the floors, Annabelle did her best to repress a yawn; being at home, she tended to go to bed when her family did, which was much earlier than the present time. Two bakers and a student with morning classes were her housemates, which meant she was often up long before sunrise.
The bell dinged, signaling their arrival. The doors opened to a single door on the top floor, and Chase made quick work of pulling out his key and unlocking it. When he pushed open the door, Annabelle stifled a gasp.
The whole Seattle skyline was visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows surrounding them. Almost all of Chase’s furniture was white, but in spite of the bland color palate, it was clear that everything he owned was the most expensive version of whatever it was. The living room was tastefully, if sparsely, decorated with leather sofas facing a large, flat-screen TV.
The kitchen was all stainless steel and black granite, with an island in the middle for food preparation. Annabelle noticed a doorway that likely led to the bedroom, but she decided not to let her mind drift in that direction. She was already in serious danger of liking Chase Frost, and not just as a friend.
“Nice digs,” she said, trying not to sound too impressed.
“It’s a place to sleep, anyway,” Chase said, ever humble.
“Do you ever sleep here?” she asked. “From the looks of it, no one lives here at all.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means maybe leave a newspaper lying around somewhere, so people know you actually inhabit the place. Otherwise it’s suspiciously spotless.”
Chase shrugged. “I have an exceptional housekeeper.”
“Well hopefully this housekeeper hasn’t wiped away the Christmas decorations as well. Where are they, so we can get you set up properly?”
Chase smiled, gesturing toward the bedroom.
“Right this way.”
Chase led the way to his bedroom, which housed a king-sized bed with a thick duvet that looked far too inviting. The view was exquisite, overlooking the city. The Seattle skyline twinkled below, as though they were above the stars, and Annabelle noticed a cozy little terrace just off his room as well.
Pointedly ignoring the bed, she followed Chase to a closet. He turned on a light and shoved a line of dry-cleaned clothes to the side. Annabelle took a subtle breath, inhaling the space. It smelled faintly of cologne, mixed with that alluring, indescribable scent of man musk. It was a reminder of just how long it had been since Annabelle had truly entertained the idea of being with a man, in a relationship or otherwise.
Chase reached up and pulled out a medium-sized box, setting it down on the plush carpet. “I have no idea why I saved these,” he grumbled.
“Because you knew someday a crazy person would force her way in to decorate?”
“Sure,” Chase agreed with a chuckle.
He carried the box into the living room and grabbed a knife, cutting through the tape holding the box together. Annabelle shrugged out of her coat and hung it on a chair. Following suit, Chase tossed his jacket on top of hers, along with his tuxedo coat, rolling up his white shirt sleeves to the elbow.
Freeing herself of her strappy shoes, Annabelle padded over to him on the thick, soft carpet. “I think this is the only thing in your apartment with dust on it,” she joked.
“You might be right. I’ll have to let Sophia know she’s slacking.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. You’re allowed to have a speck of dust every once in a while—builds the immune system.”
“If you say so,” he replied, pulling the box open.
The decorations were tasteful, similar to the silver and gold baubles at the ball. There was a small artificial tree with the decorations still on it, as though it had been shoved away as an afterthought.
Annabelle pulled the tree from the box and set it on a table in the corner of the living room. A plug dangled along the side, and when Annabelle plugged it in to the outlet, white lights cast a warm glow.
“There. That’s a start. Now, let’s get decorating.”
They spent the better part of an hour hanging twinkle lights and setting out bulb decorations. Chase refused to allow Annabelle to poke any holes in his walls, so she had to make do wrapping the lights around furniture, lamps and curtain rods, but when they were finished, even Chase had to admit the place looked more welcoming.
“See!” Annabelle said, her expression triumphant. “I told you it would look better.”
Chase’s smile was sleepy as he nodded. “You were right. Well done, Annabelle. Maybe you should take on a new job as interior decorator.”
She shook her head, plopping down on the couch. Now th
at the Christmas fun was over, she felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. “I’d only be good at it during the holiday season. I’m generally rubbish at picking out color schemes and all that. Twinkle lights and Christmas trees, though? I’m your woman.”
Chase pulled out a large, fluffy blanket and draped it over Annabelle. The chocolate brown of the leather sofa seemed to be the only contrasting element in the whole space, making it Annabelle’s instant favorite spot.
