Page 27 of Savoring Christmas
“Done,” Mia said.
“Make it two,” Logan said.
After the server walked away, he said, “I have to admit, I was expecting you to ask if they had any wine that didn’t come from a box.”
She laughed, the sound genuine and delighted. “There’s a certain beauty in a perfectly grilled burger paired with a beer and fries.”
The beers arrived and they both took sips.
“Deliciously bitter,” Mia said.
“It is.” He studied her, noticing how the overhead light caught the gold flecks in her brown eyes. The image of her bare room at her home lingered in his mind. He really wanted to ask her about it but didn’t know how to smoothly bring it up. “How long have you been here in Sugarville?” Logan asked.
“A little over four years.”
“That long? Your place seems …kind of impermanent.”
She looked at him over her pint of beer. “I know. My living situation’s kind of bleak. But it’s what I can afford at the moment.”
“Mia’s seems to be doing well though?”
Her gaze flicked to his and he saw the same reluctance to open up to him reflected in her eyes. “It’s doing all right. I’m booked out every night we’re open but I’m not getting rich by any means.” She was quiet for a moment, then seemed to make a decision. “Truth is, when I came here, I had nothing. This isembarrassing to admit, but I lost everything in a Ponzi scheme. Wiped me out completely. The only thing I had left was my grandmother’s cabin and property. I just moved into the cabin as a place to stay temporarily. The idea to open the restaurant came a little later. After I’d licked my wounds.”
Logan sat back, letting her talk, hoping for a larger glimpse into her world.
She continued, her voice steady but quiet. “My dad died when I was little. Mom worked two jobs just to keep us in a tiny apartment in Queens. When I got a scholarship to culinary school, it felt like a miracle. I still don’t know who the donor was—some anonymous benefactor who changed my life.”
“That’s incredible,” he said.
“I know. My mom couldn’t believe it. Nor could I. When I graduated, I thought all my dreams were going to come true after that.” She shrugged, but he could see the emotion flickering across her face. “I worked in restaurants for years, saved every penny, then finally opened my own place in Manhattan. It was everything I’d dreamed of. High-end, incredible reviews, celebrities and food critics coming in regularly. Food & Wine called me one of the most promising young chefs in the city.” Her voice grew softer. “But I was leveraged to the hilt. That’s how it works when you’re starting out—you mortgage everything for your dream.”
She paused, taking a sip of beer. “Then a friend—someone I trusted completely—got me involved in what turned out to be a massive Ponzi scheme. When it collapsed, I didn’t just lose my personal savings. I lost everything. The restaurant was so heavily financed that I had no choice but to declare bankruptcy and close.” Her cheeks flushed slightly. “The worst part was seeing my name listed in the newspaper as one of the victims. All that work, all those years building a reputation, and suddenly I was just another cautionary tale.”
She took another sip, steadying herself. “Sugarville Grove was a chance to start over somewhere no one knew me or my story. My best friend, Sharon, loaned me money to convert the cabin into a restaurant. Really more of a gift, but I pay some of it back every month. God bless her.”
While telling him about her past, her shoulders had tensed and her fingers gripped her pint a little too tightly.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You must have been devastated.”
She nodded, looking down at her hands. “The hardest part wasn’t even the money, honestly. It was the humiliation. Having to call in my staff and tell them we were closing. People who relied on that work for families and college tuitions. They’d been like family to me, and suddenly I had to let them all go. It was extremely painful.” She glanced up at him. “I felt like such a failure.”
“You weren’t the failure,” Logan said firmly. “You were a victim.”
“I know that. Logically.” She managed a small smile. “But it took a long time to feel it.”
He leaned forward slightly, his voice gentle but certain. “You got through it though. Rose from the ashes, so to speak.”
Her eyes softened, gratitude dancing in them. She seemed to take a breath, shaking off the weight of the memories. “What about you? Did you always plan to stay in Sugarville Grove?”
“Not even close. I couldn’t wait to get out when I was younger. Ask my brothers. I used to talk about it constantly. I wanted nothing to do with the farm and family business. I hurt my dad’s feelings about the farm. Not that he would ever admit to it. They’re always supportive of whatever we choose. But keep in mind, the farm’s been in my family for generations, and here I was rejecting it. Regardless, I went to law school at Boston University, landed at a prestigious firm right after graduation. I spent five years there in family law, billable hours that wouldmake your head spin. It was everything I thought I wanted. Big salary, corner office, respect. Until I realized I was just another cog in a very expensive machine. The work felt hollow. I missed my family. Missed knowing my neighbors. All the Christmas traditions I used to mock were suddenly precious to me. So I sold my condo in Boston and moved back here. Bought a little farmhouse to renovate and opened my practice here in town. And I’ve never looked back. This is where I belong.”
She leaned forward slightly. “I wish I knew with such confidence that this is where I belong.”
“You’re not convinced?” The corner of one of his eyes twitched. What did that mean? She planned on leaving?
“It’s not that I don’t like it here because I do,” Mia said. “But I had such big dreams for my own restaurant. Not a small operation like I have now but the real thing. With a full staff and regular customers. Great reviews. That kind of thing. My life feels a bit like a compromise. Regardless, I’m glad to be here with you. It’s no small thing for me. As I’ve said, I don’t date.”
“You haven’t dated but you’re here tonight.” Logan wanted to reach across the table, but instead he let his hand brush hers as he reached for his glass. She didn’t pull away. “Thanks for letting me take you out. I didn’t think you’d say yes.”
