by Diane Bator
“Wait a sec. You got divorced and went on a date to celebrate?” Christina winced. “That sounds a lot like a rebound romance, don’t you think?”
She shook her head. “Krista, honey, I was over my husband the day I smashed his brand new truck with my piece-of-crap car. I’m moving on.”
“Does that mean you’re coming to work today?”
“Not a chance.” She tossed her bakery apron on the counter. “Sorry for the short notice, hon, but I’m here early to quit. I’m moving to the city today to work for my new beau in his spa. I’m taking over as the receptionist at his spa while I learn to be a massage therapist.”
“Didn’t you just meet this man?” Christina asked.
“Oh, don’t be silly. I’ve known him for years. He’s charming. He’s handsome. And he’s divorced. It’s karma.”
She nodded. “No doubt. Sounds like you guys deserve each other.”
“Oh, I knew you’d understand.” Sophie grasped both her hands then hugged her. “I’ve gotta go, he’s waiting outside in his Hummer. Have a great life, Krista.”
“Christina. My name is Christina.” She followed Sophie to the door. Her voice was lost in the swirling snow. “Why can’t she ever get that right?”
With a sigh, she leaned in the doorway and watched the snowflakes drift to the sidewalk. She hadn’t even realized it was snowing. The only time she’d ventured outdoors lately was to come to work each morning then climb the rickety stairs to Clancy’s apartment each night. Now that Sophie quit, she’d be twice as busy. This wasn’t the way her life was supposed to be. She was supposed to be an artist. She was supposed to...
Christina had no idea what she was supposed to do anymore. Everything she’d ever done made knots in her life she’d had to untangle. Maybe Clancy was right. Nothing forced her to stay here except her sense of obligation. She had things to return to. Gage. Brady. Her classes. Her job. Her heart sank. Gage was dead, Brady was in jail, and classes had gone on without her. Her job had probably gone to some other girl willing to do all the things Christina hated.
The cell phone vibrated against her thigh. She forgot she stuck it into the pocket of her jeans when she left her apartment early that morning. Clancy’s number showed on the screen. After several rings, she turned it off and got back to work.
Teeny Davidson lumbered straight into the backroom just after noon. She had a deceptively thin, childlike voice for such a large person. “Merry Christmas, sweetie.”
“Grandma Teeny.” Christina jolted in surprise and juggled both cold trays of raw cookies and one hot tray. She fumbled with the hot tray and practically threw it onto the counter. “What are you doing here?”
Teeny’s face fell. “I came to see you, Sweet Pea. Is this a bad time?”
“Yes.” Christina closed the oven door. “No. Sorry. I’m just spread a little thin these days. My counter person quit this morning and I have to do everything myself.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Her grandma shrugged. “Your mom usually did everything.”
Of course she did. Her mom could do anything. “My mom also ran this place for twenty years. I’ve only been doing this for a couple months.”
Teeny slid her bulky frame onto a stool. “I hear you’re doing a wonderful job though. Mimsy brought some of your cookies and cream puffs to our meeting last night. We all agree Daisy left some large shoes to fill.”
Christina closed her eyes. “Were they that bad?”
“Oh, honey, they were fabulous.” Teeny hugged her. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You still make the best sugar cookies I’ve ever tasted. Your mom’s were good, but yours have a little extra flare none of us could agree on. Is it cinnamon or orange rind?”
“Depends on the batch.” No amount of willpower kept her eyes from watering. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore. Mom was an amazing woman.”
“So are you.” Teeny put a hand on one of Christina’s. “Not everyone would step in to take over this place so Packham could have treats for Christmas. I know how much you wanted to go back to Newville, but your father can’t be everywhere. I don’t think he’s figured out what to do now that your mom’s gone.”
She nodded. “He could’ve sent me to Florida. I could’ve sold the house and at least I wouldn’t have to shovel snow off the sidewalk, bake cookies, and man the counter.”
“Well, we’re all glad to have you here for Christmas.” Teeny patted her hand. “I’m glad you didn’t leave yet. Clancy would miss you.”
Christina raised her eyebrows. “Huh? My brother Clancy? Do we know the same guy?”
“I hear he sneaks over here every day for lunch.” Her eyes lit up. “He brags that you make the best calzones in town.”
“Those were his idea.” She laughed. “He was too lazy to walk a couple blocks to the pizza place, so he asked me to make some.”
“They must be very good then. Do you have any left?”
As Christina stared at her grandma, her mouth dropped open. “Is that why you came to see me? Because Clancy bragged about my calzones?”
Teeny’s cheeks reddened. “No. Sort of. I also wanted to invite you to Christmas dinner. This year I’ll be volunteering at the senior’s home like your mom and I have done for years and could really use someone to make some amazing desserts. You get a wonderful Christmas dinner in return.”
Christina forced a smile. “I’ll think about it.”
“Oh, and there’s also the town party on Friday night. I’m not sure if you’ve had time to read papers or anything, but everyone’s invited. You know, the celebration where everyone walks around, eats cookies, drinks hot chocolate, and checks out the colored lights along Main Street.”
Christmas Promenade. Her mom’s favorite night of the year. The two of them had attended together every year until Christina finally left home for good. She winced and warmed a calzone. “Thanks, but I’ll probably pass on both.”
“You can’t pass on the town party. It starts in the late afternoon right into the evening. You’ll still be in the store.” Teeny adjusted her body on the stool, which groaned beneath her weight and reached for Christina’s hand. “What are you hiding from, honey? Your family? Are we that bad?”
She handed her Grandma the calzone then fumbled the cutlery, a mainstay of the bakery since she was a kid. “What do you mean?”
“Honestly, Christina Rose, we’ve hardly seen you since the funeral. Now you don’t want to join us for Christmas.” Teeny’s face fell. “You’re either ashamed of us or hiding something serious.”
She hadn’t thought of it that way. “I’ve had to learn all the recipes and figure out how to make everything. My day usually starts at four or five in the morning. By the time I close the shop at five or six, I’m exhausted. Now that Sophie quit, it’ll only get harder, not to mention busier with Christmas coming.”
“You must be exhausted, you poor dear. We should have all pitched in to help.” Teeny hugged her. “Instead, you were handed a can of worms and a piece of string and told to fish.”
“Unfortunately, all I seem to catch are suckers. That’s why—” Christina winced, interrupted when someone pounded on the back door. “That would be Clancy. He seems a little more impatient than usual though.”
“Open up, Christina,” he bellowed.
She opened the door and stepped back since her brother usually barged right in.
“What the hell’s going on?” His nostrils flared and he paused in the doorway.
“Sorry, I think I got your calzone.” Teeny broke the tension, much to Christina’s relief.
The fight visibly drained out of Clancy, but he shot one last glare at his sister. “That’s okay, Grandma. They’re amazing, aren’t they? She’s pretty good at cooking things up.”
Like stories, Christina waited for him to add as he pulled up a stool and sat next to Teeny. They looked like Jack Sprat and his wife of Nursery Rhyme fame. He was tall and lean and she was almost as wide as the counter.
C
hristina handed her brother his lunch. She didn’t need music to soothe the savage beast, just a couple calzones. While they ate, she stuck her hands in more dough, tremors of anxiety going up and down her arms. Once in a while, Clancy shot her an angry glance, but held his tongue while their grandma was in the store.
After lunch, he walked Teeny out the front of the bakery, acting as sweet as Christina’s sugar cookies. Her relief was short-lived when another bang rattled the back door. “Open up, Christina. We need to talk.”
She stared at the flour-covered counter top, stalling for time. Clancy had a key and wouldn’t wait long for her to let him in. She opened the door then hid behind the thick steel as her brother slammed out the snow and cold.
“I’m done playing games.” Anger emanated off his body in the form of stifling heat. When his eyes narrowed, she regretted backing into the corner to hide. “Why the hell are there cops from Newville still calling me? What have you done this time? And who the hell is Rose Ryan? Tell me the truth or I’m hauling you to the police station and having them lock you up.”
Her eyes widened. She hadn’t expected him to confront her again so soon. She willed her heartbeat to slow and drew in a bracing breath. “I’m Rose Ryan.”
Clancy’s glare never wavered, but his face paled. “Then it’s true? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I could’ve helped you.”
She shifted her gaze to the dough on the table. The urge to keep her hands busy nearly overpowered her. “Can we talk about this later? I have a lot of work to do.”
“No, we can’t talk about this later. Apparently, there’s a dead guy in Newville that you dated and your husband’s behind bars for his murder.” Her brother grabbed her shoulders. “I didn’t even know you had a husband.”
Christina shrugged him off and backed away. “You know how it goes. You go to Vegas, you get plastered, and you end up marrying your gay best friend.”
Clancy appeared to not have any idea how it went. He sat on a stool in stunned silence and blinked. “Say that again. Slowly.”
She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the counter. “Brady was my best friend at university. When he came out of the closet in our first year, his parents didn’t want anything more to do with him. During our third year, we took a trip to Vegas with a group of friends and both of us got dumped the same night. We cried on each other’s shoulders and woke up the next morning with rings on our fingers and empty champagne bottles on the floor.”
“Holy crap, girl, you amaze me.” He covered his eyes. “So who’s the dead guy?”
“Gage was an artist I met in one of my classes.” She leaned against the counter. “He was an instructor I posed for to earn extra money for tuition, but I sort of fell in love with him. I knew I wasn’t his only lover, but he always treated me like I was special.”
He hesitated and seemed to absorb her words. “I take it he had a string of girlfriends.”
“Yeah.” Christina sighed. “I found out later Brady was one of them.”
Clancy winced. “That’s nasty. Did Mom or Dad ever know what was going on? You know it’ll all come out soon and there’ll be no more secrets.”
“No, they never knew.” She washed her hands then resumed working the dough. Kneading out her frustration and anger, she wiped tears away with the back of her hand. “I really wish it hadn’t come out. Not this way.”
Clancy shrugged and studied her while she worked. “It’s too late for that. Have you talked to this so-called husband of yours yet?”
“Brady? No. I didn’t know he even knew Gage that well until yesterday. He’s in police custody.” She wanted to run out the back door, away from his stare.
Several minutes later, Clancy stood. “You do your baking thing. I know people who can find out what’s going on. I’ll fill you in when I have more info.” He backed out the rear door. “I’ll try to help you out of whatever you’ve gotten yourself into. You just have to trust me.”
Christina clenched her shoulders so tight they ached. She itched to close up shop, go home, and hide beneath fluffy blankets. She hoped whatever Clancy had up his sleeve actually helped rather than made things worse.
Twenty minutes later, Leo walked through the front door, his hands jammed in his jacket pockets and his face tense. “I need more cream puffs.”
She punched the dough one last time then wiped the flour off her hands. “I hope those are for Lucy’s kids again. I think you’ve had quite enough. I may have to give you a number for one of those self-help groups.”
“No.” He grinned. “They’re for Hannah’s kids.”
She stared, dumbfounded. “Wow, you get around. Who’s Hannah?”
“Lady, you are so jealous.” He leaned against the table and grinned, his hands landing in a thin layer of flour. “Hannah is my friend Danny’s sister. She’s married, has two little boys, and a husband who does amazing carpentry work. She’s also invited me for dinner tonight and I promised to bring dessert. I’ll take a dozen cream puffs and a dozen sugar cookies. Please.”
“Way too much information.” She wiped her face with one hand. “And, for the record, I’m not jealous.”
“I’ll pretend to believe you for now since you look exhausted and might snap if I don’t.” Leo reached across the table and caught her chin between his index finger and thumb. “You look like hell. Don’t you ever sleep, babe?”
“Stop calling me babe.” Christina ignored the question and pushed him away. She led him to the front of the bakery and filled two small boxes. “One dozen cream puffs and a dozen sugar cookies.” When Leo handed her a bill, she waved him off. “I still owe you change from yesterday.”
“And I still owe you dinner.” He leaned his forearms on the counter. “Are you busy tomorrow night?”
Her mouth dropped open. “You were serious?”
“I’m hurt you didn’t think so.” His face softened. “I know a great little place not far from here. Do you prefer pasta or pizza?”
“Salad.”
“Which explains why you look like you’ll blow away in a strong wind.” He scowled. “How about Thai? I know a great place.”
She hadn’t had Thai food since she left Newville. “Actually, that sounds good.”
“My persistence is paying off.” Leo grinned. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at six.”
Christina nodded. “Okay. Enjoy your dinner with Hannah.”
“How could I not? According to her brother, she’s cooking pork roast and baby potatoes. I can’t remember the last time I ate either one.”
She couldn’t either. Saliva pooled at the corner of her mouth as she realized she hadn’t eaten at all today.
He hesitated as though reading her mind. “I could ask if I can bring a date. You’d have fun. Maybe you’d even loosen up a little.”
“I have plans.” Christina turned away. “Trust me, you wouldn’t like me if I loosened up.”
Leo left his boxes on the counter and followed her toward the back. He met her at the end of the counter and took her hand, weaving his fingers between hers. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” Her heart beat so fast she was breathless. “I need to take the buns out of the oven.”
“I make you nervous, don’t I?” Leo pulled her closer and slid his hand across her back. He kissed her knuckles. “Enjoy your plans.”
Christina’s knees wobbled. “My what?”
“Your other plans that are keeping you away from me tonight.” He winked, releasing her hand to pick up his boxes before he walked away.
Christina closed the shop a few minutes early, still rattled by all the thoughts of Leo, Gage, and Brady. She spent an extra hour cleaning rather than going alone up to her apartment where her thoughts would find her. Eventually, her growling stomach got the best of her. She rummaged through the fridge and realized she’d have to make a trip to the grocery store sooner than she expected.
She could call Clancy for a ride, but she’d
have to answer far too many questions. Instead, she wandered up the street to the deli to order a chicken salad and diet cola. All that was on television were Christmas cartoons and murder mysteries. The cartoons hit less close to home.
Still awake after midnight with thoughts of Gage and Brady rattling around her head, she stared at the fireplace flickering on the television screen. She decided to do something positive and tried to count her blessings. After ten minutes, she leaned over to turn the television off.
What was the point of celebrating a holiday aimed at love, family and friends when she had none of the above to share it with? “Bah, humbug.”
Her thoughts strayed to Leo and his infectious grin. His firm body and the musky cologne that rose from his skin. His knack for making her knees weak. She couldn’t help but smile then she thought about the red note card she’d brought up from the store. She lay on the table beside the hide-a-bed and studied the handwriting again. If the writer planned to follow the classic song, she’d have eleven more days of surprises in store. At least that was something to look forward to and better than worrying about Brady getting out of jail or thinking about Gage. At this point, she had nothing better except a date with Leo.
A date with Leo. What on earth was she thinking?
Chapter 7
Leo sat in Java Jo’s preoccupied with thoughts of Brady, Christina, and the first Christmas he’d ever wanted to actually celebrate. What was it about Christina Davidson that he couldn’t shake?
He and Katie had become semi-friends after her fiasco with her ex-boyfriend and his goons. He’d even grown to adore Lucy and her chatty kids after she’d confronted her ex-husband. There was no way he could ever be friends with Christina. He wanted more. A lot more. He scribbled notes for his meeting with Brady on a white napkin.
Jolene slid into the seat across from him and handed him a cup of tea. “You okay, hon? You look like someone ate all your favorite cookies.”
