Page 17 of Clued in to Love
“No, that’s okay.” Darby wondered if she should call it off. This was a bad idea. She had gotten herself out of the house during the holiday season, no less. Now wasn’t the time for rehashing young love. Now was the time for a cup of chamomile tea, Jim’s old T-shirt, and a book.
“I don’t mind, and I promise my inclement weather driving is much improved since our first year of college.” He winked and held her gaze a moment too long.
Darby shook her head. “The Matterhorn is on my way home. I’ll meet you there.”
The truth was that her house was on the opposite side of town, but Darby was already out of her comfort zone. She needed an escape plan. Part of her wanted to catch up with Samesh. He had been a big piece of her formative years, but was rehashing the past ever a good idea?
TEN
MARISSA
“Hey, Grazing Table.” An unmistakable voice sounded behind her.
Marissa clenched her jaw tight and forced her teeth together.
“Another meat cute, like M-E-A-T cute, get it?” William Graff strolled to her with a casual confidence that must come automatically with having a huge trust fund. His expensive ski jacket and black leather gloves made him look like he belonged at a swanky après ski soirée, not at Drake Park.
How did he know the definition of a meet-cute?
“I hear we’re teammates. Lucky me.” William held out his fist for her to bump, flashing her a cheeky grin.
She laced her fingers together and pressed her hands into her solar plexus for courage. “Is this some kind of a joke? Why are you competing? I heard you talking about Passport to the Holidays at your parents’ party. You were making fun of it.”
“No, I wasn’t.” He shook his head, sounding earnest.
“Uh, yeah, you were.” Marissa wrapped her arms around her body like protective armor and dug her boots deeper into the snow.
William wrinkled his nose, tapping a long slender finger on the stubble on his chin. “I don’t remember that.”
“I do, and I want to be clear right now, right from the start, that I am deadly serious about winning this thing. If it’s a big joke to you, whatever. I don’t care, but I’m not going to let you get in my way.” She didn’t like the shrill sound of her voice or the shaky feeling in her knees.
“Easy, easy, partner.” He lifted his hands in the air in mock surrender, a smile tugging at the edges of his lips. “Deadly, huh? What’s your plan? Are we going to poison the hot chocolate stations? Take out the competition? And here I thought you were a rising culinary star, Grazing Table. Little did I know you had such cunning.”
Marissa rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m serious. I want to win this cash. No, Ineedto win this cash. I’ve already tried to switch teams, and since I can’t, we’re going to have either to find a way to work together or else you need to get out of my way.”
“Ouch.” William twisted his thumb into his chest, wincing and pretending to stumble backwards. “Daggers to the heart. I’m not used to being the enemy, and I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve the title, but I can assure you that I’m here to win, too.”
“Why?” Marissa locked eyes with him.
William returned her accusatory gaze with another playful smirk. “Let’s just say I have my reasons.”
Marissa doubted that his reasons for participating in Passport to the Holidays were good, but as she watched teams scatter, she knew she had to focus. If she was going to win this thing, she needed a partner, and for the moment, William Graff was her only choice.
ELEVEN
HILARY
“You gave away the flowers?” Ben stared at her, wide-eyed. He didn’t attempt to conceal his hurt or seem to care that anyone might be listening. “Why?”
Hilary gulped down hot chocolate too quickly, scalding her tongue and sending a burning sensation down her throat. “It wasn’t intentional. I appreciate the gesture. I really do.”
His chin trembled as he shook his head in disbelief. “What’s going on with you?”
“Sorry. Really, I am.” She tried to move away from the small crowd waiting to talk with Samesh, but Ben didn’t budge. “I gave them to Darby, Jim’s widow. It was symbolic since she decided she didn’t want to speak. It didn’t have anything to do with you—with us. I promise. It’s this—the event. It’s everything. I have to make Passport to the Holidays a success, Ben. My job depends on it.”
Ben put his hands in the pockets of his ski jacket. “I—I don’t know what to do, Hilary. I feel like you’re pulling away, and no matter what I do, I irritate you. I came to cheer you on, to support you.”
“I know.” She ran her tongue around the roof of her mouth. It felt gritty, like sandpaper, and not just from the hot chocolate. “Ben, it’s not you, okay? It’s me.”
