Page 6 of Merry with a Tycoon

His eyes linger on a mosaic piece hanging on the wall, a swirling seascape I created the previous summer. “This is beautiful,” he says, stepping closer to examine it. “One of yours?”

I nod, a mix of pride and embarrassment warming my cheeks. “I made it last year.”

“The detail is incredible,” he murmurs.

“Thanks.” It’s not every day one gets a compliment from someone who must have more valuable works of art at home. “So, um, would you like some stew?”

Preston’s smile widens. “I’d love some.”

As I move to the kitchen, I can still feel the warmth in my cheeks. Who knew a simple compliment from Preston Hollister could turn me into a blushing schoolgirl?

“Can I help?” he asks as he shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it over the couch.

I almost say no but stop myself. Preston has surprised me ever since he agreed to play Santa so why not let him keep it up?

“Sure,” I say, handing him a stack of plates. “You can set the table.”

Watching Preston arrange the plates, I smile at the sight of him, sleeves rolled up, looking so normal in my tiny kitchen.

“So,” he begins, his tone casual, “you and Willy have been friends for a long time, right?”

I nod, stirring the stew. “Since we were kids. Her family moved here from the Philippines when she was ten. I remember how lost she looked that first day of school.”

Preston’s face softens. “That must have been tough for her.”

“It was,” I agree. “But we clicked right away. I helped her adjust to life here, taught her all about the crazy ways ofAmerican kids.” I pause, my spoon hovering over the pot. “Of course, some experiences I wish didn’t have to happen.”

Preston winces, clearly catching my meaning. “The bullying,” he says softly.

I nod, not meeting his eyes. “Yeah. That was... hard to watch.”

“Till the day you put me in my place,” he says softly. “Told me people who live in glass houses shouldn’t be making fun of those who don’t.”

“Or something like that. I doubt I knew what it meant then,” I say, chuckling.

“It hit the mark, nonetheless,” Preston says.

“Then you left for finishing school, or wherever kids like you go… to be with your own kind, I guess.”

There’s a moment of silence, broken only by the bubbling of the stew. Then Preston speaks, his voice low and sincere. “Crystal, I... I want to apologize for how Brogan and I treated Willy back then. We were stupid kids, but that’s no excuse. I regret it, deeply. I really do.”

I look up, surprised by the raw emotion in his voice. “Thank you. That means a lot,” I say softly. “And I know Willy’s forgiven Brogan, given that they’re dating now. Three months and still going strong.”

Preston chuckles. “Yeah, life’s funny that way, isn’t it?”

For a moment we don’t speak. Then I gesture for him to sit down. “Enough of this serious talk. Let’s eat.”

As we sit down to eat, the conversation flows more easily. Preston takes a bite of the stew, his eyes widening in appreciation. “This is delicious,” he says, sounding genuinely impressed.

“Thanks,” I reply, feeling a flush of pride. “Oh, and speaking of thanks... I’ve been meaning to thank you for choosing myshop for your company’s gift baskets. It’s been a huge boost to my business.”

Preston looks confused for a moment, then understanding dawns. “Ah, you mean the orders from Stella?”

I nod. “I know she works for you. I just... I appreciate the business, that’s all.”

He smiles, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Well, I appreciate your discretion. We normally send gift certificates to our employees for free hotel or resort stays but I also like giving them something more tangible. Your gift baskets have also saved my bacon more than once when I’ve forgotten a birthday or anniversary.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I say. “Especially when most people would rather receive gift cards these days.”

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