Page 61 of Savoring Christmas
Logan stared at the green dot on the screen, then at the empty lot. His phone was here somewhere, probably buried under snow or kicked into a storm drain. What if Mia tried to call tonight? What if she wanted to talk, and he just … wasn't there? His heart hammered against his ribs, sweat prickling his skin despite the freezing air. The cruel irony made him sick. The very day he decided to fight for her might be the day she tried to come back to him.
“It’s gone,” Logan said finally. “Let’s go home.”
14
MIA
Mia sat on her bed in her small apartment and opened her laptop for a video call with Daniel Carmichael. She’d worked on her pitch all Wednesday and was prepared to convince him that Sugarville Grove was the right place for her restaurant. She took a deep breath and hitdial.
“Carmichael here.”
“It’s Mia Bianchi. I’ve made a decision. Or at least … I have a proposal.”
“I’m listening.”
Her voice was steady. “I love the concept. I believe in the menu, the space, the experience. But I don’t want to leave Sugarville Grove.”
A pause. Then, “That’s a problem.”
“Not if you’re open to a different location. There’s an opportunity here—a historic building. The town’s been wanting a full-service restaurant, and the demand is here. It wouldn’t be a flagship location, but it would bemine. And I would pour my soul into it.”
Another long pause. “Go on.”
She laid it all out—the dance hall, the town’s need, the excitement already building. “You said you believed in me. So believe in me here. In this town. Let’s build something people talk about for generations, even if they have to take a train to get here.”
He exhaled slowly. “You make a powerful argument. New York City has a lot of restaurants but it sounds like Sugarville Grove is up for grabs. Let’s do it.”
“Oh my goodness, really?”
“Let’s make it the most successful venture either of us have ever had,” Daniel said.
It was really happening. She couldn’t wait to tell Logan. With Cannoli by her side, she headed to Logan’s office to tell him the good news.
The receptionist’s apologetic smile deflated her excitement slightly. “I’m sorry, Mia. He called in this morning and said he was taking the day off.”
Mia thanked her and walked back to her car, confusion prickling at her. Logan never took random days off—he was the most reliable person she knew. She drove through town toward his house, her hands tight on the steering wheel as possibilities ran through her mind. Was he avoiding her? Had something happened?
His driveway was empty, the house dark. She sat in her car for several minutes, engine running, staring at the windows that reflected nothing back. The silence felt heavy, wrong somehow. On a Thursday afternoon, Logan should be at work, predictable as always. Instead, he’d vanished.
She pulled out her phone, hesitating. After asking for space, was calling him crossing a line? But this news—their news—couldn’t wait for a text. The phone rang and rang before going to voicemail.
“Hey, Logan, it’s me. I have some news. Some very good news. Call me when you get this. I can’t wait to talk to you.”
She ended the call and sat there another moment, uneasiness settling in her stomach. Where was he? And why, on the day she finally had the answer he’d been waiting for, was he nowhere to be found?
Unsure what to do next, she decided to call Harold. “How would you feel about showing me the old dance hall building?”
“I’d be delighted. Meet me in an hour?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Does this mean they said yes?” Harold asked.
“It does. Can you believe it?”
“Some things are meant to be.”
Mia stoodon the sidewalk in front of the old dance hall waiting for Harold. The Sugarville Grove Social Hall stood proudly on a gentle rise just off the town square, its freshly painted white clapboard siding gleaming in the afternoon sun. The wide wraparound porch had been reinforced and repainted, with dark green shutters and hanging flower baskets filled with evergreen clippings and red ribbons for the holidays.
