Page 16 of Holidate Scramble
"Sounds like you're trying to solve everyone else's needs without considering your own."
"Story of my life," he said with a rueful smile. "My kids need to know I'm stable. My mother needs care. The hospital needs surgeons. Everyone needs an answer."
"What do you need?"
He stared at me for a long moment. "I honestly don't know. I've been what everyone else needed for so long, I forgot that was even a question worth asking."
Movement at the restaurant entrance caught my eye. A figure stood there, silhouetted against the glass door, watching us. Tall, poised even in shadow—a woman from the way she held herself. When Rhett started to turn, following my gaze, the figure melted back into the evening crowd on the sidewalk.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Someone was watching us through the door." I rubbed my eyes. "But they disappeared when you turned. Probably just someone deciding whether to come in."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, it's nothing. I'm just tired. This week has been non-stop with the campaign events."
"When's the last time you took a real break?"
"What's a break?" I laughed, but it sounded forced even to me. "The campaign ends Christmas Day. I'll rest then."
"That's still a week away."
"I'll survive. I always do."
His expression shifted—concern mixed with frustration. "You shouldn't have to just survive, Piper."
The weight of his words, the way he said my name, made my chest tighten.
"We should probably get the check," I said, needing to break the moment. "It's getting late."
He signaled for the waitress, and despite my protests, paid for dinner. "You're helping me with the gala. It's the least I can do."
The drive back to my apartment was quiet, comfortable. The radio played soft Christmas music, and I found myself stealing glances at his profile in the dashboard light. When he parked in front of my building, he immediately got out.
"I'll walk you to your door," he said when I started to protest.
"It's not necessary—"
"My mother raised me right," he said with a small smile. "Humor me."
We climbed the two flights slowly, neither of us eager for the evening to end. The hallway was dimly lit, one of the fluorescent bulbs flickering in that way the landlord kept promising to fix. At my door, I turned to face him, keys clutched in my hand.
"Tonight was wonderful," I said. "Thank you for dinner."
"Thank you for showing me Starlight Pi. It's going on my regular rotation."
"You're planning to stay in town long enough to have a regular rotation?"
"I'm considering it." He stepped closer, and my breath caught. His hand came up to trace the curve of my cheek, his fingers lingering at my lips. "Piper..."
I tilted my face up, lips parting slightly. He leaned down, and I could feel the warmth of his breath, smell that cologne that made my head spin. My eyes fluttered closed, my whole body tensing with anticipation—
"Oh! Sorry, sorry!"
We sprang apart like guilty teenagers. My neighbor Mr. Kowalski stood in his doorway with his recycling bin, his eyes wide behind thick glasses. "Didn't mean to interrupt!"
My face burned with embarrassment. Rhett had already stepped back, his reserved demeanor returning.
