by Alina Jacobs
"No, Robert did," Grant said. "I think he suspected that Rhonda was going to turn on him. He left evidence on a dead man's switch. This giant file just appeared in my inbox a week after the fire. Mark also found a copy hidden on Robert's computer."
"Also, good news, Liz. I found all the videos," Mark said.
Liz grimaced. "I want all of that destroyed."
"As soon as I have the evidence I need, the hard drives will be destroyed," Mark promised.
Liz hugged Wes. "See, everything works out," she exclaimed.
"I hope Wes is worth all the trouble he's caused," Eric said.
Liz kissed the top of Wes's head. "Of course he is!"
Wes wished Liz wouldn't act like she loved him and had forgiven him. He didn't deserve it.
He wanted her to scream at him and tell him she wished he had died in the fire.
73
Liz
Liz split her time between Nancy and Jack's house and her parents' house.
"Is Nancy still having that fundraising cocktail party at her house?" Liz's mother asked her one afternoon when she returned home.
"She says she is. I'm sure it will be well attended. Everyone will want to ask about the fire," Liz said.
"I still don't like Wes," Liz's father said. "He almost had all of us killed. I don't want anything more to do with the Holbrooks."
"Adam, honestly!" Liz's mother said. "Wes saved Liz twice, and he's very sorry. He could have died in the fire. Smoke inhalation is nothing to sneeze at." Adam grumbled, and Liz's mother patted him on the shoulder. "I'll make sure your nice suit is ready for the event tomorrow."
On the evening of the fundraiser, Liz wished that her mother had let her father stay home. Adam made a beeline for Wes as soon as he walked through the door.
"You have some nerve to continue to sniff around my daughter after everything you did," Adam snapped at Wes.
"Dad, stop it!" Liz cried.
"I know I made a horrible mistake," Wes said. "And I'm sorry."
Adam Davenport looked annoyed. "I can't forgive you. My daughter and my son almost died."
"I know," Wes said. "I can't forgive myself."
"If you're not going to let Wes around your daughter, then you should let me either," Mark said. "I invited Rhonda into our lives, so I share some of the blame."
"You don't share any blame," Wes said to his cousin.
"Holbrook men make terrible, sometimes catastrophic decisions," Walter said. "This was all partly my fault as well."
Adam held up a hand. "It looks like Liz is still enamored of you, so I will tolerate you for her sake. I'm sure you won't make the same mistake twice."
"Just grovel for the next year," Liz said, smiling up at Wes. "And keep your nose clean."
"If you want to continue to see my daughter, you have my blessing," Adam said. Liz kissed her father's cheek and hugged Wes.
He held her for a too-brief moment then unwrapped her arms from around his neck. "Don't make excuses for me," Wes said. "You shouldn't take me back. I don't deserve it."
"You're everything I always wanted," Liz said. "You love me, don't you?"
"I can't stay," Wes said, turning away. "I said I would do anything for you, and I meant it, which is why I need to leave. You deserve better than me."
"If you love me, you'll stay," she said, crying.
"I'm going to Texas to spend some time with my father," Wes said, pushing Liz away.
She sobbed as she watched him go. She knew she was overreacting, but it was as if all the stress of the past few months was finally washing over her, and she needed the release.
"He'll be back," Walter told her, patting her on the back. "Don't worry."
74
Wes
"Look what the cat dragged in," his father said when he stepped out of his car at the address Hank had given him.
He was at a remote farmhouse out in the desert. Hank was sitting outside by a campfire, and Wes smelled some sort of meat cooking.
Kal took off running as soon as Wes opened the door. While the dog chased snakes, Wes slowly walked over to his father.
"Sit down," Hank said. Wes perched on a split log near the fire. "What's on your mind?" Wes didn't say anything. "Dana told me about the fire."
"I messed up," Wes said.
"Don't I know that feeling!" Hank replied, offering him a can of carbonated water.
Wes sipped his water. He knew Hank was waiting for him to talk, and after staring into the flames, Wes spoke hesitantly then more fluidly as he went into detail about what had happened.
"That is some story," Hank said when he finished.
"I screwed up the only good thing in my life. I'll never have another chance at happiness again," Wes said.
"From what it sounds like," Hank said, "she'll give you another chance. She did play nursemaid after all."
Wes shook his head. "She shouldn't. I don't deserve a second chance."
"Maybe," Hank said, "but then maybe I don't either. I shouldn't have done what I did to you and your sister." Wes looked at the fire, the mesquite wood crackling. The flames were much friendlier here than they were when the Holbrook estate was burning.
"There was money funding your lawsuit," Wes said. "You were a pawn."
"I am a man," Hank countered. "I made my own decisions. I'm not proud of my choices, but I own up to them. Now, I didn't deserve a second chance from Dana or you, but here you are. I could have pushed you away and told you to leave me alone, but where would that leave us?"
Wes didn't say anything.
"Your Liz sounds like a capable woman. She can make up her own mind. If she wants you gone, then you get, but if she wants you to stay, then make yourself useful."
That night, Wes slept on the couch in the house. Over the next few days, he helped his father do ranch work and fix up one of the tractors. He also had some of the most honest conversations he had ever had with Hank.
As nice as it was to be out in the clear air of the county, New York beckoned. Wes had been receiving messages from his friends and family, and Grant wanted to know when he was returning to work.
"Sounds like they want you back," Hank said.
Wes packed up his car and called for Kal.
Before he left, his father pulled Wes down into a hug. "Don't be a stranger."
Wes was half dreading and half looking forward to going back to Connecticut. He sped down the highway in silence, Kal's chewing on a deer bone the only noise.
The drive was over too quickly, and soon Wes stood outside of Jack and Nancy's house.
There were several cars out front. Maybe Nancy was having some sort of get-together. Wes didn't think he should intrude. As he was about to leave, Liz walked outside, and Wes's heart stopped.
75
Liz
Liz missed Wes, and everyone could see it. That's why Nancy had organized a design party, as she called it, to take Liz's mind off Wes. They were all meeting to go over material choices to rebuild the Holbrook estate.
"Isn't this fun?" Nancy asked Liz.
"I know you're just trying to cheer me up," Liz said as she helped Nancy set out all the inspiration boards and tile choices.
Grant and Kate were hand in hand as they poured over some of the preliminary design choices. They looked very much in love, and Liz felt the familiar twinge of jealousy.
"You've worked everything out, it looks like," she commented as she arranged door knob choices.
"Nothing sets your priorities straight like a near-death experience," Kate said as Grant leaned down to kiss her.
Needing to escape, Liz said, "I left one of the boxes of fabric swatches in my car. I'll run and grab them."
Liz went outside, her keys swinging in her hand. It was chilly, but Liz could feel hints of spring.
As she walked to her car to pretend to look for the fabric swatches, she saw Wes. She stopped and gazed at him. He looked dusty; he was wearing thick canvas pants and heavy boots. Kal barked and raced around her.
"You came back," she said, trying to keep from being knocked over by the large dog.
"I'm sorr—"
"Stop apologizing," Liz said.
"Okay." He looked down at his boots. "I just—"
"Let me say something," Liz told him.
Wes's mouth snapped shut, and his eyes focused on her.
"I always wanted to marry a Holbrook. I wanted the picture-perfect courtship, the beautiful wedding, and the dream life. I know that doesn't happen in real life, but I'm over the scrapbook ideal. I want to build a real life with you. I love you, and I don't want to lose you."
"I don't deserve it," Wes said. "I'm not good enough for you."
"Maybe, but I want you anyways."
Wes closed the distance between them and took her in his arms. "I love you," he said. "I won't mess up again. I promise."
"You will," Liz said. "You're human. I'll screw up, too, but let's just promise not to mess up the big stuff, okay?"
Wes smiled, his whole face lighting up, then he bent down and pressed their mouths together. Liz let herself relax in his arms.
"You want to go inside? There're snacks and a multi-hour marathon design meeting." She laughed as Wes grimaced slightly.
"I'll just have to make sure Kal doesn't eat any of the paint samples," Wes said as Liz wrapped an arm around his waist and walked up to the ornate front door.
Everyone looked at Wes and Liz when they made their way into the room. She heard Grant take in a sharp breath.
"That's some fabric sample," Kate said.
"We're going to give Wes a second chance," Liz announced.
Nancy looked happy. "I'm glad you're back, Wes! We missed you!"
"I think we all acted poorly over the last year," Liz said. "I'm not moving in with him or anything, but I think that we're going to give it another go."
"We'll make sure Wes stays in line," Walter said. "He won't make any more mistakes. Will you?"
"No, sir," Wes said.
"You know," Carter said. "At previous gatherings, there have been proposals of some sort."
Wes looked alarmed.
"The prospect of marrying me can't be that bad!" Liz joked. "I promise I won't wear that hideous dress you saw me in."
Wes worked his jaw then said, "I'm not saying I don't want to marry you, Liz, because I do, but it will be a long time from now. I intend to make up for everything I did. I take full responsibility for what happened."
"You can start by helping with the rebuilding efforts," Nancy told him, handing him a box of antique drawer knobs. Wes took the box and looked out over the room full of his and Liz's family and friends.
"I just want you to know that I'm glad to be here. I know I'm on everyone's bad list right now, but I would like to earn back your trust."
Allie handed Wes a drink. "It's nonalcoholic," she said. "Don't tell Carter." She winked at him, and Wes and Liz looked at each other and laughed.
Liz kissed the love of her life and said, "I'm happy to take it slow."
"Sorry I'm not as perfect as your scrapbook," Wes said, nuzzling her neck.
"You're better than the scrapbook because you're real," Liz said.
"I meant what I said. I do want to marry you."
"Good. Me too. So long as we don't elope," Liz replied. "And no explosive cakes!"
Keep reading for a sneak peek of
Jack Frost and the Great Christmas Bakeoff
Jack Frost and the Great Christmas Bakeoff Synopsis
In my perfect world it would always be winter and never Christmas.
I despise the holiday. I hate carols, shopping, and pretending to be a perfect family.
I walked away from my family, or rather they walked away from me.
My heart is like ice—
See it creeping up the walls.
Oh, wait, no, that’s royal icing.
I never should have allowed the Great Christmas Bakeoff to film in my tower.
And I never, ever, should have agreed to be a judge.
Chloe
I love Christmas! I love sparkly window decorations, heartwarming holiday movies, and themed coffee.
Most of all I love Christmas baking.
Even though his company is sponsoring the bakeoff show, billionaire Jack Frost claims he hates sweets.
But after he tastes my goods I know he'll come begging for more.
And wouldn't you know it, that night Jack Frost asked me to come up to his penthouse and give him a special taste of my Christmas cookies.
Against my better judgement I went…
I baked him my signature gingerbread cookies and of course he ate them up!
It should have been a Christmas miracle, but Jack Frost couldn't have come into my life at a worse time.
This was my first Christmas after my Oma died.
Someone is trying to sabotage me in the Great Christmas Bakeoff.
I'm being stalked by a mall Santa.
Sleeping with one of the judges is a disaster waiting to happen. I needed Jack and his washboard abs about as much as I needed that third cinnamon roll.
But when he says in his deep, sexy voice, "Can you make me some more cookies?" well stick a candy cane in me I'm done.
1
Chloe
I could tell New York City was preparing for Christmas as I rode in the Uber on the way to Frost Tower. Even though Thanksgiving was only yesterday, workers were hanging garlands on buildings and wreathes with big red bows on lamp posts. The advertisements on the sides of the various kiosks screamed reminders about holiday shopping, and there were light snow flurries in the air.
"It's so magical," I sighed gazing out of the window. I'd always wanted to live in New York City, ever since I'd come for a middle school trip. Now I was back—broke, desperate for money, but back.
"You're going to be singing a different Christmas carol after you've lived in this city a few months," the driver said, "Or maybe not if this is where you're living."
"Is this Frost Tower?" I asked him. We were stopped in front of an all-glass tower. It was beautiful, like an ice sculpture, but it did not inspire warmth or Christmas cheer. In fact, unlike the other buildings we had passed where Christmas trees and other holiday decorations were visible in the lobby, Frost Tower was barren.
"Don't forget to give a five-star rating," my driver said and winked as I stepped out of the car.
"Spare some change?" I turned to see a tipsy looking Santa Claus waving a coffee cup in my face.
"Get outta here!" the driver yelled at him as the homeless man staggered off. "You'd think a fancy building like this would have better security." He carried my suitcase and my crate of high end cookware to the door, waved, and then returned to his car.
I entered and looked around. The lobby was completely empty. There were no people, no artwork, and no Christmas decorations. It was all glass and polished concrete with clean white walls. On the wall near the elevator lobby was a hand written sign that said ROMANCE CREATIVE PRODUCTIONS 37th FLOOR.
I stepped in the sleek elevator feeling slightly apprehensive. What if they didn't want me to be in the show anymore? I couldn't go back to the Midwest. There wasn't anything for me there and besides my credit cards were almost maxed out.
"I guess I found all the people," I said when I stepped off the elevator. There large elevator lobby was packed with people pushing carts, carrying cable, and totting heavy lighting.
"Are you Chloe Barnard?" asked a tall, elegant woman with long dark hair. I nodded and held out my hand.
"Hi, I'm Dana Holbrook. I’m one of the producers. We talked over email. That’s my co-producer, Gunnar Svensson." Dana gestured to a tall blond man talking intently on the phone. "We're very excited to have you. Let me show you to your room." She tapped the elevator button and we rode up another twenty floors.
"Your Instagram is very impressive," Dana said as we walked down the hall of one of the upper residential floors. "You have hundreds of thousands of followers and they all seem
quite active. The Great Christmas Bakeoff isn't airing on network or cable TV, it's only on the web, so we'll need you to leverage your social network to make this show a success."
"That's what I'm planning on," I told her. "I want to use the Great Christmas Bakeoff show as a platform to hopefully start my own café or at least be offered a cool job."
"We anticipate this show will be very popular," Dana said as she punched a number. I tried to memorize it but failed.
"I've emailed you the code," she said and opened the door.
The apartment was beautiful with big windows, a large kitchen, and a view over a nearby park.
"Believe it or not," Dana said, "This is considered a big for New York City."
"It's perfect," I told her setting my bag down.
"Pick a room. You're the first contestant to arrive. You'll have to share unfortunately, but it's only a five week contest. We'll be done filming by Christmas."
By the time I unpacked my things, no one had arrived yet. I sat on the small bed in the room I had chosen and checked my email. There was a message from Dana with a scant amount of information, just a tentative shooting schedule and the key code.
When I had auditioned for this contest, the paperwork had said there would be a cash prize of $20,000 for the winner. It wasn't enough to open my own restaurant, but it would at least let me pay off my credit card debt. My druggie cousin had stolen my money and, against my Oma's protests, I had filed a police report. That was the only way the bank would refund my money. Though they returned a few thousand of what I had lost, they still hadn't refunded it and it had been almost a year since the incident. After my Oma passed away, I didn't have the energy to fight with the bank. Now I was slowly trying to build a life without her.
