Page 47 of Christmas in Whitehorn
“There are other healthy choices,” Darcy insisted. “Maybe something meatless.”
Melissa smiled. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, I’d love to see what you’ve brought.”
Darcy set her box of cookies on a table, then opened the box containing the house. She unfastened the sides, peeling them back to expose her Christmas treat. Candies decorated the sides and roof of the house. Icing “snow” edged the windows. She’d used chocolate cookie fingers to make a fence and chocolate-covered graham crackers for a pathway.
Melissa clapped her hands together. “It’s fabulous. Did you really make it yourself?”
Her obvious pleasure eased some of Darcy’s hollowness. She nodded. “Once the main structure is together, it’s not that difficult to do. Just lots of candy, icing and patience.”
Josh reached for a gumdrop. Darcy pushed his arm away. “Don’t make me hurt you. If you want something to eat, try a cookie.”
“What’s in them?” he asked suspiciously.
“Plenty of butter and sugar. It’s the holidays and I try not to think about calories in December.”
Still looking doubtful, Josh opened the second box and pulled out an iced cookie. He took a bite, then nodded. “This works,” he mumbled.
Melissa reached for one, as well. After she tasted the cookie, she sighed. “It’s delicious enough to cause me to make noises that shouldn’t be heard outside of the bedroom. Janie was right. Your baked goods are terrific. Let’s talk tomorrow after your shift. If you’re still interested, we can work out a deal to have you supply the café.”
“I’d like that,” Darcy said, hoping she sounded excited.
She should be happy. Shewashappy. She’d worked hard for this opportunity. If she got a baking contract with the Hip Hop Café, she wouldn’t have to sweat her monthly bills—especially for Dirk’s school—so much. And if he received some financial aid, she might be able to draw a breath and actually slow down.
“Then I’ll see you here tomorrow,” Melissa said, pulling a datebook out of her oversize purse. “I’d like you to bring me a list of what baked goods you’ll provide, and a schedule. We’ll have to play with quantities for a while until we figure out how much we can sell.”
“Not a problem.”
Darcy already had all that information in a notebook at home. She would make a copy during her break tomorrow and have it ready for Melissa by the time of their meeting.
She excused herself so Josh and Melissa could finish their conversation on remodeling, and made her way to her car.
She was excited, she told herself. Darned excited. This was a great opportunity. Yes, there would be extra work, but she’d held as many as three jobs at a time before, so she was used to long hours and little sleep. If nothing else, keeping busy would help her get over Mark quicker. She wasn’t going to have much time to think about him.
She started her car, then waited for the engine to warm up. The thing was, she thought, resting her forehead on the steering wheel, she couldn’t start getting over him until the horrible empty feeling inside of her went away. She couldn’t remember ever being so sad about the loss of a relationship. Which didn’t make sense. After her parents died and all her friends had faded away, she’d felt completely abandoned. But somehow this was different. Worse.
Something about knowing Mark was forever out of her life made it very difficult to even breathe.
* * *
Mark sat alone in his living room and watched the light fade as afternoon turned to evening. He told himself he should get some ice for his ankle and maybe take another pain pill. He should do a lot of things. But instead of getting up, he simply closed his eyes and wished he could turn back the clock.
Why had he thought Darcy was the one involved with the money laundering? Now, with hindsight, he could see that he’d been completely wrong about her. There was nothing in her background or her life that even hinted at anything illegal. Yet he’d thought of her first. Finding the money had only confirmed his suspicions.
Because he’d wanted it to be her.
The thought struck him like a sucker punch. He lightly touched the throbbing bump on his face, then shook his head. Damn. Why hadn’t he seen it before? He’d wanted Darcy to be the bad guy because then he could dismiss her from his life. He wouldn’t have to worry about liking her or not liking her. He wouldn’t have to reconcile what he’d been through with Sylvia with his present situation. He could stay comfortably angry with the world for being such a rotten place and with himself for being so stupid and blind.
The memory of the hurt and shock in her eyes made him squirm. He’d done her wrong in the most fundamental way possible. He’d damaged her character.
She was a woman who had given up everything she’d ever known to take care of her brother. With no experience, she’d survived in a hostile world. Then he’d come along and had accused her of being a criminal because that was a whole lot easier than thinking she might be a pretty terrific person that he was in danger of falling for.
He wanted to take his accusations back. He wanted a second chance. Not because he had any expectations, but because someone like Darcy didn’t show up in a guy’s life very often. She’d wanted to be his friend. He’d never considered that much of an honor, but he’d been wrong.
He swore under his breath. He couldn’t make it right, but he could explain. He owed her that. He knew she would still walk away—she might be soft-hearted, but she wasn’t stupid. She wouldn’t trust him with a second chance.
* * *
After dropping off the rest of her baked goods, Darcy pulled in front of her apartment. Something large and dark sat on her front steps. As her headlights swept across the duplex, she saw the large, dark something move. Mark?
