Page 47 of A Very Daddy Christmas

Carl, Eva, and I worked late yesterday to get everything ready for the start of the Christmas season.

“Miss Levine.”

A familiar voice has me spinning on my heels just as I’m about to open the door. I can see my sister inside behind the counter, serving a couple of clients.

“We need to talk.”

“Mr. St. James,” I mutter, nauseated by the mere sight of him. “What do you want?”

He sits in the back of a limo, the car window rolled down. There’s no one else with him yet shivers still run down my spine. Shadows linger on his shoulders, like an ominous aura. I don’t like this.

“Please, join me. I would appreciate the privacy,” Orson says as he opens the door.

“I’ll have to decline.”

“I have no intention of harming you in any way, Miss Levine. I really do just want to talk. Please,” he says, softening his tone and his gaze with purpose.

I glance at the bakery. Eva hasn’t seen me yet. There’s hot chocolate in the cups she just put on their respective saucers atop the counter. Steam rolls gently upward from their whipped cream tops as she drops a handful of mini chocolate chips upon each.

Orson is still waiting. I shift my focus back to him, then check the sidewalk both ways, remembering we have a state-of-the-art security system installed with CCTV cameras.

“Alright,” I mumble and get in the back of the limo, aware everything is being recorded on camera. “What do you want, Mr. St. James?” I ask as I sit across from him.

He slowly shuts the door and the interior lights come on. From the outside, the limo doesn’t look that big. Inside, however, the perception is different. There’s enough room for a small brunch party, and the seating is annoyingly comfortable. Also, heated.

“I wanted some privacy for what I’m about to say,” Orson says, leaning forward. “Cora, I’ll be honest, none of this is my fault.”

“That’s rich,” I snort and cross my arms, leaning back into my seat. “Really fucking rich. Weren’t those your goons who trashed my bakery?”

“Yes and no. You see, there are other interests in the middle here. I made promises I need to keep, and under no circumstances can I let you buy the building. It’s reserved for someone else,” he says.

I scoff harshly. “Too bad. A contract is a contract. All we did was abide by its terms and conditions, by its clauses.”

“Yes, and that was my fault. I should’ve been more careful while reading those annexes. I was, admittedly, too thrilled about the sale clause to even make it to the part about the escrow bit. It may be my undoing.”

“Mr. St. James, I’m sorry if you made a promise you cannot keep, but the previous owners made a promise to my parents, as well. Unlike you, however, they put those promises in thecontract. It’s my duty as a business owner and as my father’s daughter to make sure those promises are kept. We’ve had the bakery for decades, and now we’re able to buy the building. There’s nothing wrong with that, especially since you’re getting rid of it at twice its market value. And no one else has outbid us so far, correct?”

“It’s not about the market value!” Orson hisses furiously. “You don’t understand. Somebodyreallywants the building, and they’ll stop at nothing to get it. I admit, it was my mistake to enter such a commitment, but I really need you to work with me on this.”

“Why? You had no problem telling us to leave three months before Christmas.”

“As per the clause.”

“And as per the other clause, I put in a hefty amount of money to buy the building so I wouldn’t have to leave.”

Orson curses under his breath, and I can tell he’s having a hard time keeping his cool. “Cora, why don’t you just take that money and buy another building? There are plenty of places with lovely storefronts that would fit your needs.”

“I want this one because my parents, as well as my sister and I, have invested a lot into this place.”

“You can just move the equipment, you stubborn child!” He’s getting angry. Losing his patience.

I’ve clearly struck a nerve, but now, I admit, I am actually curious. “What’s really going on here?”

He takes a deep breath, his lips pressed tightly together as he scowls at me. “What’s going on is you can’t seem to understandthat your safety and well-being depend on your presence here. Withdraw your offer, Cora. Leave. Use that escrow money to open your bakery somewhere else. I’ll even promote your new place in church when you open the doors again.”

“After you sent members of the congregation to trash talk us all over social media and everywhere else?” I raise a doubtful eyebrow, and I watch the blood rising into his pasty white cheeks.

“You forced my hand.”

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