Page 56 of Wrapped in You

"Coming right up, honey!" Marcia called.

Sophie stood on shaking legs. Derek forced his eyes away from her.

"Are you off to plan your Culinary Tastings empire?" Beck teased.

Sophie laughed falsely. "Something like that. Wish me luck."

She turned to pay, but Marcia waved her hand and whispered, "No cost, honey. I'm sorry about the pastrami." She winked.

Sophie put a five-dollar bill in the tip jar and took her sandwich. "Thanks, Marcia. See you soon."

"Send love to your family!" Marcia called.

Sophie bid a final farewell to the crew and disappeared into the violent winds. She was pleased not to be on set the rest of the day. The space heater was no match for temperatures in the teens or below.

Her toes were frozen.

When she reached the corner, she turned and looked at the door of the coffee shop. For whatever reason, she sensed that on the other side of that wall, Derek was sitting with his pastrami sandwich, thinking about her. She sensed that he wanted to come outside and say he was sorry. Sorry for what? For pullingaway. For leaving her house so abruptly. For not thinking of her feelings.

He's grieving, Sophie reminded herself as she strode away, hands in her pockets, tears freezing in her eyes. He lost his wife three years ago right before Christmas. No amount of butterscotch cookies could change that.

Chapter Seventeen

Randy was all smiles when he got back to headquarters. Flipping his phone from his pocket, he showed Sophie photographs of the house he planned to buy with Fiona—three bedrooms, a bright kitchen, a real fireplace, and a bay window that looked out onto the woods. Sophie clutched his phone and scanned through the photos with a knot in her throat. When she said, "It's so beautiful," her voice sounded like a frog's.

"Did you go out to lunch with the guys?" Randy asked.

"I did," Sophie said.

"Any news on Brent?" Randy sat in the office chair nearest the Culinary Tastings computer and brought up spreadsheets, calendars, and lists for their upcoming gigs.

"I haven't heard anything," Sophie said, thinking again of Brent sprawled out on the ice, calling for help.

"It was probably somebody's job to put down salt or something?" Randy said, shaking his head.

Sophie thought of Jeremy. She had a hunch it was Jeremy's job to do something like that.

Had he not laid down salt on purpose? Had he tried to sabotage the film?

Randy spun around to look at her. He furrowed his brow. "You okay?"

Sophie let out a sigh. "Sorry. I'm fine. Just exhausted."

Randy clapped his hands. "That's why I'm here! We're going to expand, expand, expand. Together."

Sophie smiled, but she didn't feel terribly happy. Why not? Wasn't this what she wanted?

Sophie pushed herself through their meeting, hearing herself answer Randy's questions and agreeing to be at such-and-such place at such-and-such time over the next couple of months. Randy showed her their new traffic on social media, where he'd posted gorgeous photographs not only of the food but also of Sophie serving it—at the retirement party, on the set ofSilver Bells, and at the film's Christmas party.

Even Sophie had to admit she looked good in the photos. Randy had captured her at her happiest and friendliest, smiling as she served the delicious recipes she'd created in the secrecy of her own kitchen.

"Look! This guy wants to hire us and ask you on a date," Randy said, laughing as he pointed at a comment beneath one of the photos.

Sophie giggled. "What a creep!"

"Are you saying we shouldn't take the job?" Randy asked, his eyes glinting.

"I'm saying you can take that one," Sophie said.

---