Page 6 of Say It Isn't Snow
His smile is evident in his voice. “He’s very appreciative, and the man loves to show it any chance he can.”
The edge of my mouth lifts. “Is that why you let my calls go to voicemail midday sometimes?”
“Mind your business,” Trevon answers smoothly. “Your flight landed twenty minutes ago. You know the drill: keep your head down while I deal with this.”
I don’t bother asking if he kept tabs on it. “I’m in line to pick up a rental, then I’m heading up to Mt. Helen where my family has a cabin.”
It’s a five hour drive from the city to northern Vermont on a good day. The weather report flashing on the airport monitors makes my stomach sink in resignation. It’ll be five hours if I’m lucky, but I’m probably looking at spending the entire day on the road.
He makes an approving noise. “Good, good. Keep out of the public eye for the time being. I know you’re itching to set the record straight, but hold it in for now. Give me a call when you get there. When I have something for you, I’ll let you know.”
“Got it.” Exhaustion creeps into my tone.
“Like I said, don’t sweat it. We’re not done yet.”
I nod even though he can’t see it. “Thanks.”
“And Caleb?”
“Yeah?”
“No gossip sites. Stay offline.”
My jaw works. Too late for that. I’ve already stewed over some of the ridiculous articles.
“I heard that,” Trevon admonishes.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Exactly. I know you too well. Your silence said it all. I mean it, man. Stay the hell offline for your own good.”
“Fine. I’m next in line. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Don’t worry, kid.”
“I’ll try.”
After hanging up, I blow out a breath and mute my notifications. The only thing standing between me and getting out of here is the rental agent at the counter who looks far too chipper this early in the morning.
CHAPTER 3
HOLLY
I’min the zone through the early morning rush, restraining myself from poking my head out to check if Leta needs me several times. I do peek to see a few of the shop regulars enjoying their treats and grin to myself.
This is what made me fall in love with baking.
I taught myself how to do it by learning from online cooking videos. It was a way to entertain my younger siblings after school until our parents got home. The first time I watched my sister and brother’s eyes light up as they enjoyed what I made, I was hooked. My passion has become a dream career for me at twenty-six.
It’s not even 10 a.m. by the time I’m finishing the final dozen cookies in the order. Pride fills me, making me shake my generous ass with a bit more vigor while I victory dance before the last set.
With my height on the shorter than average side, my curvy hips tend to meet obstacles before the rest of me does. I’m so into grooving that I bump right into a rolling cart and nearly topple a tray of Mrs. Claus’ tits. Thankfully, I save it before any fall.
“Close call,” I say with a relieved chuckle. “Can’t have my pretties going to waste.”
“What are you doing back here?”
I jump at my brother’s voice, endangering the rescued tray once more by almost knocking it over. “Shit!”
