Page 89 of Chef's Kiss at the Chalet
From the park, I walked back to my apartment. I tossed my keys in the tray by the door and kicked off my boots, jumping straight into the shower to rinse the smell of the kitchen out of my hair, and put on some comfy sweats and slippers. Ten hours on my feet really did a number on my muscles. My shoulders ached and my feet were sore.
In the kitchen, I gulped down a sparkling water before putting some music on the Bluetooth speaker and padding into the office. Charles was sitting at his desk in front of the computer, his glasses sliding down his nose as he typed.
“Hey, babe,” I said, coming to sit on his lap.
“Good day?” He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck while I read the screen.
“Yeah, not bad. Instructor liked my Wellington.”
“That’s great. Glad you went for it?”
“Definitely. So, how’s it going in here? Getting any packing done?”
“Nope.” He laughed at my admonishing grimace. “Just following up on Mia’s emails from last night. She’s starting to panic a little. The time difference isn’t helping.”
We were flying back to Maplewood Creek in the morning to see his family for Christmas. Megan and Hannah were making the drive too. Thanks to the Hawthornes, Megan had almost more clients now than she could handle. But the real news was the official launch of Après Creek, Charles’s business venture with Mia. After their talk last year, Charles decided the best way to make amends was to simply pick up where they left off. It took her a few weeks to believe he was serious, but after she dusted off the old business plan, he cut her a check and they were partners again. For better or worse. Only now that the big day was fast approaching, Mia was a ball of nerves.
“Just remind her that we’ll all be there to lend a hand. We won’t let anything fall through the cracks. And tell her she’s got this!”
“I will,” he said, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“Did you have class today?” I asked.
“Mmm-hmm. I’m still no better at watercolors than I was a month ago. Not sure it’s my calling.”
Charles had managed to convince his father to let him take the sabbatical from the company. And even though he had Mia and their business to tend to, he needed something to occupy his time while I was at school. I had encouraged him to find an art class. It was something he was passionate about, after all.
“Hang in there,” I told him teasingly. “Maybe pastels will be more your thing.”
“Speaking of pastels, I talked to Amelia. She’s bringing her new guy,” he said. Charles transferred his hands to my shoulders, digging deep into the stiff muscles. “So, we get to relentlessly grill him for the next two weeks.”
“Can’t wait.”
Amelia and I had grown closer over the last year. We began by FaceTiming and exchanging emails. Then she came to visit for a couple of weeks over the summer, which gave us a chance to bond over good restaurants and shows in the West End.
“And I was thinking,” Charles said. “There’s supposed to be bad weather in Colorado late tomorrow. I’d hate for Megan and Hannah to end up stuck on the roads. Why don’t I send a plane? Get them up there first thing in the morning, so you all have the whole day together.”
I twisted my lips, hesitating. “It is an awfully long drive in bad weather.”
Charles’s constant insistence on paying for everything was always a point of contention, but I had to admit it was a very tempting offer. And I knew Hannah would never let me hear the end of it if she found out I stood between her and a ride in a private jet.
“Please. Let me do this. It’s Christmas and I want to spoil you,” he insisted, kissing the tip of my nose.
Charles usually got his way on these things. Not because he was right necessarily, but he was ruthless with the puppy-dog eyes. It made him happy, so I tolerated it. For now.
“Fine. What do you think you want for dinner?”
“Takeout?” he said.
“Right answer.”
“Are you ever going to cook for me again?” he said, lifting me off his lap to go hunting for his phone.
“Nope.”
Not until he put a ring on it, at least.
Just before I left the office, he caught me by the hand. Charles pulled me into his arms and tilted my chin up. Then, just before he leaned down to kiss me, his shimmering eyes paused on mine.
“I love you, Elle. That blizzard really was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“To both of us,” I told him. “I love you, too.”
