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December 5th
BLAIR RUSHED OUT OF the shower and quickly got dressed. If she didn’t leave in the next fifteen minutes, she’d be officially late to work. She dashed out of her room to the front door.
“Dad, are you done yet?” she called as she opened the door.
“Almost,” her dad responded from the outside. He was out in the cold air fixing her car. The car had started acting up the minute she’d headed home from the hardware store yesterday, and she’d made the mistake of complaining about it when her father had called to chat. Naturally, he had insisted on coming over to fix the problem.
Which was why he was out in the cold, even though she’d pleaded with him not to.
“You’re going to freeze to death out there,” she said for the hundredth time that morning.
“I’m bundled up and the engine’s going.” The hood was open and her dad seemed to be inspecting something. “Quit worrying.”
How could she not worry? It was cold out and her father was the most stubborn man on earth.
Heaving out a frustrated sigh, she went back into her apartment. She lived on the ground floor while her neighbor lived upstairs. The place was small but it was cozy and she was proud of her independence.
Fighting her worry, Blair went to the kitchen to warm up some toaster pastries and make her dad some coffee. She’d be late for sure now, but she was going to make sure her dad ate a warm breakfast no matter what. Blair would never forgive herself if he froze or caught a cold.
As soon as she made the coffee, her father marched into the house. It was like he could smell the coffee from all the way out there.
“Thank you kindly,” he said, picking up a mug and taking a seat at the small kitchen table. “Car’s good as new.”
“Thanks.” She divvied up pastries onto two small plates. “Please drink the whole thing.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m serious, Dad. A couple of sips isn’t going to do it. The entire cup,” she insisted.
Her dad grumbled under his breath.
“I can hear you,” she warned as she approached the table.
“Yeah, yeah,” her dad said dismissively as he took a plate from her. “Rushing off to work?”
Blair sat down. “I’m going to make sure you drink everything.”
“You missed a call while you were getting ready,” he said, nodding towards the phone she’d absent-mindedly left on the counter.
“Oh, shoot. Who was it?” she asked. “Not Nancy from work?”
“Nope. Some guy.” Her dad took a sip of coffee. “Said his name was Colson.”
“What? He called?” Blair’s eyes widened. That must have meant that he was ready to schedule a day for her to stop by and look at his great-grandmother’s antiques.
Dad set the cup down, his dark eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What’s with you?”
Oh, no. She’d walked right into the trap and accidentally spilled the beans. Maybe she could salvage this. Blair took a bite out of her pastry to hide the blush she felt rising. “Nothing.”
“You’ve got a guy calling you at all hours of the morning,” her dad observed, his bushy gray eyebrows meeting. “Asking for you to call him back. Interesting development. Why don’t you fill me in?”
“There’s nothing to fill in,” she said quickly.
“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.” He went deceptively quiet for several moments. Then he crossed his arms and looked at her like he was a cop prepping and interrogation. “Who is this Colson guy?”
“Nobody. Just a friend. A customer.”
“Which is it?” her father demanded. “A friend or a customer?”
Darn it, she hadn’t prepared for this at all. What happened to her dad just stopping by to fix her car? This wasn’t supposed to be about her personal life for crying out loud.
“Both,” she answered before taking a fortifying sip of coffee.
“You’ve got friends and customers calling you at all hours?” he pressed.
Destin Hawthorne was like a dog with a bone when it came to prying into her life. He was worse than her mom and her brothers combined. At least they pretended to know how to take a hint. Not her father.
“He’s very important,” she said. “Some of his antiques are going to bring in good money. So if you don’t mind—”
“Hold it,” Dad interrupted. “How long have you known him?”
“A few days,” she answered.
“He single?”
Blair groaned. “Here we go.”
“Well?”
“Yes, Dad, he’s single,” she said, irritated. “He’s single, I’m single. What’s the big deal?”
“How old is he?” Her dad wasn’t going to let this go. She was cornered.
“I-I don’t know. Not much older than me, I imagine,” she said.
Dad grinned and put his mug down to rub his hands together with glee. “Is he straight?”
“Dad!”
“It’s the twenty-first century so we can’t assume,” her dad said. “Is he into women or not, Blair?”
“He basically said he’s straight and...” And sometimes he looked at her with a heat in his eyes that made his interest in her seem undeniable.
“And?”
“And nothing. This is a professional partnership,” she said. “Nothing more than that.”
“Does he know that? Because sounded real excited about selling antiques,” her father said. “Too excited if you ask me.”
She raised an eyebrow, hoping to project some amount of confidence. “You’re surprised that one of my customers is excited about selling their stuff?”
“Nobody’s that excited about antiques except for you,” her dad said. “Plus, he was only excited when he thought you were the one who’d answered. You should have heard his disappointment when he realized it wasn’t.”
“Wait.” Suspicion set in. “What did you say to him?”
“Oh. I thought there was nothing to fill in.” Dad raised an eyebrow. “What do you care what I said to this guy anyhow? Thought he was just a friend. Er...or was it customer?”
“I said he was both.” In fact, Blair had told Colson that much when they’d met up at the store yesterday. She’d blurted out that they were just friends partially to get over her initial shock of him saying they were no longer strangers, and partly to put the brakes on whatever he was going to say next. He’d done that thing where he stared deep into her eyes and told her that she was no longer a stranger to him. Nobody had ever said something like that to her with such intensity. It had felt overwhelming. What he’d left unsaid made her heart skip a beat because it was impossible. She’d felt like he was on the brink of telling her something that he shouldn’t. Because they hadn’t known each other long enough to be making declarative statements. For heaven’s sake, she didn’t even know his last name.
“Must be nice having a new friend,” her father said.
Blair put her mug down and narrowed her eyes. She didn’t care if she was trying to walk this tightrope, she was going to get the truth out of her dad no matter what games he tried to play. If he had said something embarrassing or scared Colson off, she wanted to know about it ASAP. Then she’d go and salvage whatever mess her father had made. Because knowing him, he had definitely put his foot in it.
“I’m serious Dad,” she continued, tapping her fingers against the surface of the table in irritation. “No stalling. What did you say to Colson? And I mean the exact words.”
“You know, there’s nothing like a little Irish whiskey to jog the old memory,”
“Bribery is beneath you,” she grumbled.
“Is it?” Her dad smiled as he held out his mug of coffee. “Might help me stave off the chill. Pretty cold morning, you know.”
“You can’t drink when you have to drive to work,” she reminded him.
“I’m not asking for much. Just a little. Besides, you can drop me off at the car shop since it’s on the way to your store,” Dad suggested. “Think of it as payment for my help fixing your car.”
There was no getting around his attempt at bribery. If she wanted to know the details of her father’s conversation with Colson, she’d have to pay up. At least it was better than arguing her way to the truth. Sighing, she got up to get one of the small bottles of whiskey she kept in her antique liquor cabinet. Blair rarely drank alcohol and only brought it out for special occasions, but this was as good a time as any. With a sigh, she returned to her seat at the kitchen table and poured some of the whiskey into her dad’s mug.
“Thank you.” Her dad took a big gulp of his coffee. “Ah, good stuff. What were we talking about again? Oh, right, your friend Colson.”
She felt butterflies in her stomach at the mere mention of his name. “He called and asked for me?”
Her father paused for a second. “I believe he started by saying, ‘Good morning, sleepyhead.’ Then something about having a great time on your outing yesterday.”
Ugh. So her father was well aware of the fact she’d been out in public with Colson. Terrific. Knowing her dad, he’d probably think it had been a date, or he’d try to spin it that way to pressure her into actually going out with Colson. Worse, her dad made a habit of talking everybody’s ear off at the car shop, so the whole town was bound to learn that Blair had been spending her time with a mysterious newcomer.
“And what did you say?” she pressed.
“Well, I told him that you were getting ready for work, and as your father I’d be glad to take a message.”
“Please tell me that’s all you said.” There had been frequent incidents of her father pointedly telling random men that she was unmarried and looking for a husband, so Blair braced herself for the worst.
“Hmmm let’s see.” Dad paused to think it over. “We talked about your store. He had quite a few questions about antiques, as if I would know. Then there was some boilerplate about the weather.”
“Is that it?”
“Oh, hang on. Colson said that he wanted you to come over to his place,” her father replied. “I told him that you didn’t have a boyfriend who would object to that—”
“Dad!”
“What? I was subtle about it,” Dad insisted. “Anyway, what kind of customer invites you to come over to his house at this hour? Sounds like he’s more than just a friend if you ask me.”
“Well, no one asked,” she said, sighing heavily. Mostly because nobody had to ask since her father always put his two cents in.
“Does he know about the mistletoe?” her father went on, ignoring her frustration. “Might want to recheck that there’s mistletoe in your store just in case he needs the encouragement.”
Blair buried her head in her hands and groaned. Her face heated with embarrassment. “I can’t believe this.”
Once again, her dad ignored her. “So what do you think? Does this guy have a crush on you?”
“We literally just met.”
Her father chuckled. “When has that ever stopped a man? If he likes you, he likes you. Time doesn’t matter, trust me. You should use the mistletoe to help you figure out how he feels.”
She gritted her teeth and lowered her hands to give him a frosty look. “I am not taking part in that ridiculous tradition, so you can stop.”
“Only trying to help,” her father said cheerfully before taking another gulp of coffee.
“We need to get to work.” She stood up to grab her coat from the coat rack in the next room. “So if that’s everything, can we get a move on?”
Dad shook his head with what looked like disappointment, but he got to his feet. “I’m just looking out for you, sweet pea.”
Guilt made her pause to put a hand on his shoulder. “I know. But I need to live my own life, Dad.”
Her father finished the last of his coffee. “Your life is my life, my life is your life. We’re all in this together.”
There was no use explaining how stifling that was. Blair loved her family but they meddled too much sometimes and it could be very hard to tell them to give her space. They seemed to take her independence as a slight. As if she was turning her back on them when nothing could be further from the truth. She wasn’t backing away from them. On the contrary. Blair would never want emotional distance from them. All she wanted was to take a breath on her own. Too bad she couldn’t make them see. And now her father was shoving her towards Colson. A man she barely knew.
Ever since Colson had blown into her shop, there seemed to be no escaping him. Not that she wanted to escape. As much as she liked her independence, it had been a long time since she’d let a man get this close so quickly. Probably for the best that he’d be heading back to the city at the end of the holidays. Then the excitement would end and everything could go back to normal. The flutter she felt in her stomach would go away.
Blair stepped outside to start the car, her dad getting into the passenger seat beside her. On the drive, they didn’t speak much at first because she made sure to keep the radio on, letting it blare familiar Christmas songs. Hopefully, the festive music would silence her father and discourage him from trying to set her up with Colson.
During the lull between songs, her father asked, “How’s the store doing?”
She hesitated. Because she had never given a straight answer to that question whenever her family members asked. Though Golden Age Antiques wasn’t in debt or behind on any payments, it was not a runaway success. There were probably lemonade stands that did better some days, she thought glumly. But she didn’t have the heart to admit that some months she barely made enough of a profit to pay rent. She’d sort of fooled her family into thinking she was doing better than she actually was. At least the holiday season helped make up for that. With any luck, they’d be enough locals and tourists looking for unusual gifts this year. Plus, Colson’s antiques would bring in a lot through commissions.
But she didn’t want to tell her dad about the store’s setbacks, nor did she want to bring up Colson potentially bringing business her way. Because then her dad might use Colson’s help as proof that she wasn’t all together fine on her own. Dad might use it against her to highlight that she wasn’t as independent as she thought she was, and maybe it was time she seriously considered settling down, or at least allowed her family to chip in and help.
Ugh, she could hear those last points made in her father’s voice. Chancing a look at him, she said, “The store’s doing fine, Dad. Just fine.”
“Wonderful. I bet a man like Colson will be impressed,” her dad said, sounding way too pleased with himself.
Hardly. Blair almost scoffed. From Colson’s dismissive comments about her store, he clearly thought dealing with a small business was beneath him. He was only working with her out of desperation. Barely suppressing a sigh, she navigated the car up the street to her father’s car shop to drop him off.
After a quick goodbye and a promise to call her dad, Blair headed to Golden Age Antiques to hurriedly open up the shop to a customer waiting outside. As much as she wanted to return Colson’s call, her morning was pretty busy. Customers were coming in and out looking for unusual finds that would make perfect, one-of-a-kind gifts for their loved ones. To her relief and delight, she managed to sell a few pieces just like she had predicted. The holidays were often the best season for her when it came to sales, and this year was no different, thank goodness.
When lunchtime approached, Blair welcomed her sometime employee Nancy McClean into the shop.
“Thanks for coming,” Blair said, as she grabbed her handbag and stepped aside for Nancy to take over at the front counter.
“No problem.” Nancy settled down in front of the computer. “Hey, did you leave a tip for me recently? I found more than a thousand dollars in tips in my stocking at work.”
Blair’s eyes widened at that number. “What? I mean, I left something for you, but not a thousand dollars. How generous. Was it mostly from the same person?”
Nancy gave a nod. “Yes, I think so. Probably a tourist. Why don’t I buy you something nice with what I got?”
“Oh, no you don’t, Nancy. Your secret Santa left that gift for you,” Blair said, heading for the store’s entrance. “And trust me, you’ve earned it.”
She decided to get a panini sandwich at a nearby sandwich shop, choosing a corner booth to finally return Colson’s phone call.
He answered on the second ring. “Blair. I’ve been waiting for you to call back.”
His voice was so low, gravelly, and just a little out of breath as if he had been for a run. Hearing him speak did something to her insides. She quivered all over just hearing it. A thrill ran down her spine as a strange, giddy feeling took over. Blair felt like an excited schoolgirl calling her crush, which was ridiculous because she was a grown woman for heaven’s sake. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she finally said, “Got your message from my dad.”
She wanted to smack a palm over her forehead. Duh. Who else would have told her about the message? Blair was so tongue-tied that it took her another long moment to figure out what to say next.
“I assume you were calling about the meeting I agreed to? Has your family decided on which pieces to sell?” she asked, hoping that she was speaking in a professional tone.
“Yeah.” He paused. “Could you bring over one of your copies of A Christmas Carol? You take cash, right?”
“Right. I’ll bring you a copy,” she promised. “Getting into the Christmas spirit?”
“Haven’t had much time to do that this year. Not that I ever do if I’m being honest. Today, I spent the whole day putting everything we want to sell in the attic and the basement,” he told her.
So that explained why he sounded a little out of breath.
“Great. I’d love to see what you have,” she said.
“In that case, why don’t you come over tomorrow?” he suggested.
Her face heated at the invitation. Blair had been expecting his call, so why on earth was she blushing? Swallowing hard, she tried once again to compose herself while her heart raced. But it was no use. Because she was starting to understand why she was in such a state. Blair had only ever spent time with Colson in public. However, now that their meeting was being confirmed, Blair realized they’d be together in private. Alone.
