Page 22 of Baking it Merry

So which guy was he—Grinchy Grincherson or Mr.Less-Than-Grinchy Grincherson?

Daphne seriously hoped he was neither and just a nice guy who was just misunderstood.

A girl could dream, right?

Anyone who knew Tristan would say was that he was very rigid and all about boundaries.Those traits were positives when he was designing buildings.However, they were complete negatives in his personal life.

The day of the first party had him freaking out at the amount of chaos going on in his home.

And it was all courtesy of Daphne.

She had shown up right after lunch, even though the party didn’t begin until seven.Walking around the house, she touched things, moved things, and basically walked around like she owned the place.

Pfft, like that would ever happen.A woman wearing a hot pink coat with fuzzy white trim, a matching hat, and mittens would not be the kind of person to live in a custom-designed luxury home.

And while he knew he was being incredibly snobbish, he just never saw anyone like Daphne in one of the homes he designed.

The front door was wide open and she just kept coming and going, bringing in more stuff every time she reappeared.There were boxes scattered all around the living room, dining room, and kitchen—some were open with things spilling out and others were still closed.His right eye twitched as he took it all in.

“Um…wouldn’t it be better to just…you know…organize everything and set up one section at a time?And what is all this stuff, anyway?We didn’t discuss anything more than the desserts.”

Taking off her hat, coat, and mittens and tossing them on his sofa, she smiled.“Tristan, all the drawings I sent to you showed you the displays we were going to do.That included tablecloths and assorted holiday decorations.You knew this.”

Now that she reminded him, he knew she was right.He just hadn’t expected it to all start with such a mess.

“Can I help with anything?Maybe pick some of these boxes up and put them where you need them?”

Waving him off, she moved around with no real rhyme or reason.“You’re sweet, but I’ve got this.Why don’t you just go and relax and I’ll be done in an hour or so.”

The thought horrified him.“You’re going to put out the desserts this early?Won’t some of them go bad?”

Laughing, she walked by him with an armful of red fabric.“I’ll be back around six with all the food.Right now, I’m just setting up everything else so that later on, the only thing I’ll have to handle is the food.I’ll be in and out before your guests arrive.”

“Oh.”For some reason, he just assumed she was going to stay.

“You hired two servers to help throughout the night, so you’ll be fine.You’ll be able to relax and just play host.”Then she chuckled softly.“Well, maybe notrelax, but you’ll hopefully be able to enjoy yourself.Did you get the ornaments?”

Nodding, he walked across the room, picked up a box, and brought it over to her.“Faye showed me probably two dozen different types, and these were the least offensive.”

The look she gave him was full of disapproval.“And you’re just going to put them out in this box?”

“This is what they came in,” he reasoned.“It’s either this or I’d have to just put them on a table and…no.That’s not going to happen.”

Her smirk spoke volumes.“I have a cute basket at home you can use.I’ll bring it when I come back with the food later.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Tristan, with all the hard work I’m putting into making this place look festive, there’s no way you’re going to ruin the aesthetics with a plain box filled with bubble wrap and Styrofoam peanuts.”

He supposed she had a point, but he hated how much better she was at this than he was, and this wasn’t even her specialty.

“Can I ask you something?”

Daphne kept setting things up.“Sure!”

“Why don’t you do this full time?Like…why aren’t you a caterer full-time or have your own bakery?You obviously know what you’re doing.Why limit yourself to eight weeks out of the year in a makeshift gingerbread house in the lobby of an office building when you clearly love this?”

Rather than respond, she just kept working.

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