Page 24 of Mishaps and Mistletoe

“Yes. The Old-Fashioned is our signature cocktail for the season. Can I get you one?”

Josie cleared her throat. “Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.” Her quiet voice didn’t sound like she thought it was great at all.

The server dropped two entrée menus on the table and left to get the drinks. Kevin started looking over the choices scripted in a fancy font that was hard to read. He’d just order whatever Josie did. She worked here, after all—she’d know what was good.

He watched her slowly reach for the menu, her gaze unfocused, eyes unblinking. “Everything okay? Is this about what happened the other night?”

Her head snapped in his direction, like she’d momentarily forgotten he was sitting there. “Kevin, I’m sorry I threw myself at you the other night. I’m so embarrassed.” He wanted to tell her she had nothing to be embarrassed about, but would that seem like he was flirting? Couldn’t have that; he needed to shut this down for several reasons, including the sake of his career. And her sanity, judging from the way she toyed with the cloth napkin in her hands. “You were up front about not dating. So was I, and then I just went and mauled you.”

“That tiny peck was hardly an attack, but it’s okay. It doesn’t have to happen again.” The words tasted awful as they left his mouth, and the hint of a frown that pulled at the corner of Josie’s mouth didn’t help. But this is what she said she wanted. And he couldn’t get involved with her, anyway. He’d moved far from everything he’d ever known to take a chance on this job.

“It’s just—I told you how hard the holidays are for me. But what I didn’t mention is I don’t have a lot of friends. They’re all busy with their own lives and families. I guess what I’m saying is, I could really use a friend.”

From any other woman, in any other circumstance, that statement would have been a punch in the gut. Everyone’s worst nightmare was getting put in the friend zone. But he so very much wanted to be around Josie and help, he’d take whatever kind of relationship he could. Besides, he didn’t date either. And he definitely never did thatfriends with benefitsstuff. His heart was fragile enough from years of emotional turmoil; he doubted it could handle that kind of relationship without getting damaged.

“I’m new here, so, of course, I could use a friend too.”

She smiled at him, and he knew they were doing the right thing. The smart thing. The thing that wouldn’t have this ending in heartbreak. “My track record with guys isn’t the greatest, anyway.”

“You mentioned a fiancé?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Ex-fiancé.”

“I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She pulled her phone from her purse and tapped the screen. “Everything you need to know about that relationship can be summed up in this video.”

He watched the clip with a grimace. A wild turkey ran through the streets while people screamed like Godzilla was chasing them. And then the shot panned to Josie on a bench, her posture stooped and eyes red and puffy. “Were you okay?”

She did a double take and shook her head. “Do you know how many people have watched that clip?” The number at the bottom of the screen told him, but he didn’t think she wanted him to answer. “Not one person has ever watched that and asked if I was okay.”

“Well, they should have. You’re wheezing.”

“Nope. You know, people still bring that incident up. Scott’s mom called me a disappointment,” she mumbled in a monotone voice.

“The first woman I ever loved called me a disappointment, so I get it.”

Her glassy eyes rounded. “Kevin, I’ve known you for twenty-five years, and you’ve never disappointed me.”

“We’ve only been around each other for three weeks in that time,” he said with a chuckle.

“Good point. But you know what I think? Words are just words until we assign meaning to them. Most of the nasty things people spew are reflections of their own lives and have less to do with you than you think. Look at the comments under the video, for instance—oof! A bunch of nonsensical comments from people who waited too long to eat their Thanksgiving dinner, if you ask me. They’re hangry. People are mean when they’re hangry. So, believe me, Kevin—as someone who’s had some pretty nasty things said about her, whatever woman said that to you had some other issues going on because something tells me you couldn’t disappoint someone if you tried.”

He cleared his throat and stared slack-jawed at her as she folded her napkin and placed it in her lap, like the speech she’d spouted hadn’t just rocked his world.

“You didn’t want anything to drink? Besides water, that is.”

He shook his head. “Nah. I don’t drink. Since my mom was an addict, I just stay away from anything that might be a problem for me.”

“Oh, gosh,” she said with her exhale, her soft tone returning. “Let me cancel my—”

“No, no. It’s totally fine. I’m not bothered at all.” The server placed their drinks on the table. “Please, enjoy.” He motioned toward her drink.

“Do you two need a couple more minutes?” the server asked.

Kevin watched Josie aimlessly twist and turn the small glass, reinforcing the circle of condensation it left behind with each movement. “That would be good, thanks.”

The server left the table, but Josie didn’t seem to notice. “Where you at, Jojo?”

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