She glanced over her shoulder to see Anne and Callie whispering to each other, their eyes darting between her and Alex and a piece of furniture they were pretending to find fascinating.
Brooke reined in her thoughts as Alex swaggered through her store, his scent nearly overpowering everything in his wake, and met her in front of the register. She couldn’t help the silly look on her face as she spoke quietly. “My, my. A morning-after visit, Mr. Coleman? Give a girl a chance to miss you.”
His chuckle sent pleasure tingling through her body. “How long do you need? I missed you the second I stopped kissing you.”
Her stomach flipped at his boldness. Had he truly missed her? God, she hoped so, but that wasn’t a path she wanted to go down right now, so she changed the subject. “Where are you staying? You never said.”
“The first night I had to go back to KC, but Friday morning I was able to get a room at the hotel down the street.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” She really wanted to ask him how long he was staying, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. She knew at the very least he’d be here until Saturday if they had plans Friday evening. “So did you come here to help me make jewelry?”
“No, I’m actually taking my mother to lunch. Just thought I’d stop in and say hi.”
“Oh, how sweet. She’ll enjoy that. I really like your mom. I go into the Stop & Go for grape soda at least three times a week. I’d never known her when I was younger, but she’s so sweet.”
“Yeah, she’s doing really well. I was surprised.”
“You should be proud of her.”
“I am. Really.”
For a moment neither one of them appeared to have anything to say. She couldn’t get over the fact that he’d come in just to see her. Suddenly his eyes narrowed and he cocked his head to the side.
“Grape soda, really? Didn’t know anyone actually drank that.”
She laughed. “Well, now you know.”
He scratched his neck awkwardly, but she didn’t miss his smile. “Well, I guess I’ll head over there.” He glanced at his watch. “Her break starts in five minutes.”
“We still on for Friday?”
“We better be.”
They exchanged quick good-byes, and he went out the front door, leaving her alone once again with Anne and Callie, the latter of which was quickly making her way up to the counter.
“Soooo, I know we don’t know each other very well yet, but ummm, wow.” Callie leaned on the wood and grinned at Brooke. Anne was still shopping. “That’s Alex Coleman, right? Eric’s description didn’t do him justice.”
Brooke threw her hands up in the air. “Yes, Eric. That’s his name. I knew I recognized him the other day in your shop. He was a year or so behind me in school. How is he?”
“Great! He’s my bestie and employee, so clearly he’s very lucky. He said he remembered you also when you came in. We saw Alex the other day, and Eric nearly fainted. Said he was the hottest guy to come out of Preston in his lifetime. Are you guys seeing each other? Eric will be so jealous, not that he’d ever had a chance. Alex looks about as hetero as it gets,” Callie said with an eyebrow wag.
“We did go out last night, but we aren’t seeing each other.”
“Well, a date is certainly something.”
Anne joined them at the counter, a pair of earrings in one hand and a necklace in the other. “I’m officially in love with your jewelry. I’m buying both of these, and I’d love it if you would let me feature them on the blog.”
“Whenever Anne posts a picture of her outfits, people go bonkers,” Callie said with a wink.
Brooke couldn’t hold in her excitement. “Oh, I’d love it. Thank you so much. And please let me gift them to you. I mean, if you’re going to feature me, it’s the least I can do.”
“Oh no, she won’t let you do that,” Callie interjected. “Anne has an honesty policy.”
Sensing Brooke’s confusion, Anne explained. “I like to be able to tell my readers when I love something that I bought it for myself because I genuinely wanted it. Not that I don’t have products sent to me. But when everything you talk about is sent from a company or a person for your review, I think you lose some credibility, you know? Anyway, I’m paying, so don’t give it another thought.”
Brooke walked around the counter and rang up Anne’s jewelry. She folded it carefully into tissue paper and tucked it into a little paper bag with Sweet Opal Studio stamped on the front. “Anne, I really can’t tell you how much this means to me. Getting a business off the ground is so hard. I just appreciate any help I can get to get my name out there.”
“It’s my pleasure, these are exactly the kinds of things I love. And you’re local, so even better.”
“Yeah, well, you better get ready, girlfriend. Especially since Christmas is coming.” Callie hitched her purse over her shoulder. “The orders are going to flood in. You’re gonna feel like you work in a sweatshop by the time our readers are done with you.”
Brooke could only hope for that much business.
**
Brooke went to the mirror for the twentieth time. She’d made a brand-new necklace for her dinner with Alex and Beverly Coleman, and she was trying to match the perfect outfit to it. She finally settled on black pants, a green wrap sweater, and black ballet flats.
The scooped neckline on her sweater highlighted her jewelry, a multiple-piece bib necklace made of seven large soldered pieces. Each one contained a swatch of green-and-red vintage holiday material. She was obviously partial, but she was in love with how it turned out.
She’d curled her hair and done her makeup with precision. All that was left was waiting. They hadn’t specified if he would pick her up in the front or back, but she figured back since that’s where he’d dropped her off a few days ago. Sure enough five minutes later—not a minute late—Alex knocked on the back door.
When she opened it he was standing there in hat and coat. It was snowing, and hard.
“Oh, wow. Guess I should watch the news occasionally, huh?”
He was still looking at her. “You’re gorgeous.”
“Well, thank you.” She fidgeted with her necklace, a nervous gesture that brought his eyes down to it.
“You made this?”
“Oh, yes. I did.” A little embarrassed now, she laid a hand over her neck. He gently pushed it out of the way and lifted the necklace away from her skin to examine it.
“You’re really talented Brooke. This matches your eyes.” Damn, there went her heart pounding again. He really needed to stop saying sweet things like that she thought, as she buttoned up her coat and wrapped her scarf around her neck.
He escorted her through the snow into the car, and not ten minutes later they were pulling into Beverly Coleman’s driveway. The Colemans’ house had been lovely for as long as Brooke could remember, and it was gorgeous in winter. Christmas lights adorned the entire porch, accented with giant green wreaths on every post; smoke whirled from the chimney above. It was the quintessential home, welcoming and warm. She wondered if Alex felt the same.
They hadn’t really spoken about his relationship with his grandparents, so she was curious as to how this would go. Brooke only knew a little from rumors, but she was sure that Alex hadn’t had much to do with them growing up. In fact she’d been a little shocked when he’d invited her over. He hadn’t even come back to town for Mayor Coleman’s funeral, which, while not surprising anyone, caused quite a bit of gossip in the small community. Her mother had been in on it. She always was.
Alex grabbed her hand and led her through the inch of snow, up the stairs, and onto the wraparound porch. She didn’t have time to dwell on her thoughts before Beverly was opening the door with an infectious smile.
“Hello, you two. Come in before you catch cold,” Beverly said, leading them into the foyer. A giant staircase was lined with greenery and ribbon, and the house smelled of cinnamon. It was so festive, and when Beverly pulled them each in for a tight hug. Brooke cou
ldn’t help smiling.
“I was so happy when Alex called to tell me he was bringing you, Brooke,” Beverly continued. “What a lovely surprise.”
“Thank you, I’m so happy I could come.”
Beverly took their coats and hats before ushering them into the formal living room, chatting about the weather. A gorgeous fireplace was burning warm and bright, and a large Christmas tree was decorated with white lights and many heirloom ornaments. On instinct, Brooke walked over to admire them. One in particular caught her eye. It was made of yellow construction paper that had faded with age to a dirty cream. It was covered in glitter, and in the center was a school photo of Alex’s father, Brett.
A hand landed on her shoulder, and she let the ornament drop back onto the branch. “I’m sorry,” she said on instinct.
“Don’t apologize,” Alex said beside her. He lifted the ornament and looked at the photo silently. “I’m sorry to say I didn’t inherit his artistic ability with paper and glitter.” Brooke let out a small laugh, and they smiled at each other.
Beverly walked into the room carrying a tray of appetizers, and they joined her on the sofa. Brooke was relieved and also a little embarrassed when Alex sat close to her, resting his arm behind her head.
It all felt homey yet a little formal at the same time. Brooke’s family did well, but her parents’ money was a drop in the bucket compared to the Colemans’. Alex leaned into her side and whispered, “Don’t be nervous.”
“I’m not.”
“Liar.”
She gave him a playful glare as they each grabbed a little plate of food.
“I might as well let the cat out of the bag right from the start or the guilt will eat at me,” Beverly leaned forward like she was going to tell a secret. “Julie made all of this, including dinner.”
“Julie’s the housekeeper,” Alex told Brooke with a smile.
“She’s such a gem, and she’s the best cook. I’ve used her for dinner parties for years. And I’m just not up for cooking much these days.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter who does the cooking, as long as you’re together,” Brooke said. She turned to look at Alex, and he gave her a wink.
“Well said, Brooke,” Beverly said warmly.
A while later they were seated in the dining room discussing Brooke’s shop, her jewelry, and her family. The meal was perfect, comfortable conversation and delicious food: chicken in a Madeira wine sauce, mashed potatoes, green beans, and salad.
“Beverly, please tell Julie that was one of the most delicious meals I’ve ever eaten.”
“Oh, good. She’ll be tickled to hear it. I hope you saved room for carrot cake. Julie didn’t forget it was your favorite when you were little, Alex.”
“Carrot cake, really?” Brooke asked in surprise.
“It has chocolate chips in it,” Alex said, like it explained everything.
She was a little shocked to hear that he’d spent enough time with Beverly in his childhood to develop a favorite dessert at her house. Everyone always assumed that the Colemans had completely washed their hands of Alex and his mother. Maybe that wasn’t the case. Then again, it wasn’t really any of her business.
Brooke and Alex helped Beverly clear the dishes, then Beverly dished up everyone some carrot cake, which was also fantastic. “You were right, the chocolate chips make it. You have good taste,” Brooke whispered to him when Beverly excused herself from the dining room for a moment.
“I know I do,” he said, leaning in and placing a quick kiss on her lips.
She jerked her head back and quickly looked around the room. “Don’t do that. What if she were to see you?”
“She’d be thrilled.” His laugh surprised her. Did he want Beverly to see? Surely not.
“That’s just cruel. No need to get her hopes up. You’ll be leaving soon.”
His eyes went dark for a moment, and she looked away. She hadn’t said anything they didn’t both know to be true. He would be leaving; he hadn’t given her any reason to think otherwise. And he wasn’t disagreeing with her right now.
“Brooke, I just had the most brilliant idea,” Beverly said as she reentered the dining room. “You should make necklaces for the debutantes at the Mistletoe Ball next weekend. Wouldn’t that be beautiful? I think the girls would love it.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Mrs. Coleman. Aren’t pearls traditional with the deb dress?” Brooke remembered her own Mistletoe dress and nearly cringed. She’d hated it. The whole thing had been her mother’s style, not hers. It was a silly tradition for the Addison County Junior League, but since her mother was a member, Brooke had been a deb when she was seventeen.
“Pearls are the tradition, but I think the girls would love mixing it up a little. What do you say, can you make twelve matching necklaces by next Saturday?”
Brooke’s mouth dropped open, her mind whirling. Could she? Of course. Did she want to? Definitely—that kind of exposure in her community and the surrounding towns could do great things for her shop. Why was she hesitating?
“Is that too much to get done on such short notice?” Alex asked, looking at Brooke with a worried expression on his face.
“No, I want to do it. Yes. Yes I will do it. Twelve you said?”
“Perfect, yes, twelve girls this year. And I’ll leave the design up to you, something elegant. You know how the dresses look.”
Suddenly she felt a little uncomfortable. The Mistletoe Ball was a fancy event, a part of the Colemans’ life that Alex definitely wouldn’t have been a part of. Brooke herself hadn’t attended since her own year as a deb—no reason to—but her parents went every year. It was the league’s annual fund-raiser.
“Now that that’s settled, you’ll have to stay, Alex. Brooke will have to attend so everyone can tell her how beautiful her jewelry is. She’ll leave with a hundred new customers, but she’ll have to have a date.”
“Oh, no. I don’t need to go,” Brooke said quickly. She didn’t want to put Alex on the spot. “I can just leave some business cards.”
“I’ll stay,” Alex said, cutting her off. “I’ll be your date.”
She turned to stare at him. She couldn’t believe he’d just agreed. “You don’t have to do that. I really hadn’t planned to go. In fact I’d forgotten all about it.” Which was entirely true. She didn’t spend much time with her mother these days, so she’d lost track of what her parents did with their time. She’d never much enjoyed the Mistletoe Ball anyway. But if Alex was her date…
“I’d like to take you, if that’s okay.”
“Well, of course, but—”
“It’s settled,” Beverly said beaming.
**
Alex was still wasn’t sure what the hell he’d done at his grandmother’s as he drove Brooke home. It was completely his idea for his grandmother to ask Brooke to make the necklaces. She’d been chatting away about the Mistletoe Ball when they’d met for lunch the day before and the whole thing had seemed perfect, but he hadn’t considered actually staying to be Brooke’s date. At the same time, the thought of her going with someone else was out of the question.
He was now going to have to call and reschedule his return flight a second time; thank god he’d bought flight insurance. That twenty bucks had definitely paid off. But that’s not what was weighing on his mind. Maybe it was the thought of spending more time with Brooke, which sounded great but also worried him. A little bit of it, however, definitely had to do with the fact that his grandmother had invited him to an annual social event that he’d grown up making fun of, mostly because it was above him.
His grandparents had hosted the Mistletoe Ball several times during his childhood—every Christmas a different couple did. Never, in all of those years had he been part of any family event, especially not the ball, which was exclusive. Many kids from his high school attended, girls he fooled around with were debs, and he’d always been disgusted by the ridiculous display of snobbery. But tonight she’d invited him like it was the most normal thin
g in the world. A damn Mistletoe Ball, and he’d reacted like a starving kid being offered candy.
He looked across the car at Brooke. “Thanks for coming tonight.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for inviting me. It was fun.”
“You didn’t have to agree to make the necklaces if you didn’t want to.”
“Oh, I know. But I do want to. It was really nice of Beverly to give me the opportunity. They run an article with a photo in the county paper and the Star listing all of the seamstresses and such, so I should get credit. I’m grateful. So many good things have finally been happening. I hope it all pays off, all I want is for my shop to succeed.”
Guilt churned in his gut. Things were looking up for her business, and he was considering pulling the rug out from under her. Ted had left him two messages since their meeting on Tuesday. It bothered him a little that the guy seemed so intent on him selling. Alex had tried not to think about it too much, but the money thing kept pinging in the back of his mind. Ted had talked about over a million dollars, possibly even more. It wasn’t the kind of money someone didn’t at the very least stop to consider.
“You obviously hadn’t told Beverly I was shackin’ up in the building. Thanks.”
“I told you I wouldn’t.” He hadn’t told his grandmother a few things recently. About Brooke living there or about his offer on 100 Main. He wasn’t really sure how she would take that news. He figured it was a safe assumption that if his grandfather had been against selling, his grandmother would be also. He’d asked his grandmother not to mention anything about him owning the building while Brooke was there for dinner, and thankfully she’d obliged.
He pulled up behind 100 Main and parked next to the back door. “Well, looks like we’ll be seeing each other again next weekend.”
“I guess so.” She smiled. “You’re the one who said yes, pal. Should have taken the out when I presented it. No going back.”
“I didn’t want an out. I’m dying to go to the Mistletoe Ball.” He grinned.
“Yeah, I’m sure. They’re the worst. Stuffy people, fancy food, and debutantes. Nothing like forcing your daughter into a white dress and announcing she is now of marriageable age with a ball to set feminism back a few decades. In my opinion it’s a tradition that needs to die.”
Blame It on the Mistletoe Page 9
