Page 10 of Caught in a Christmas Conundrum

I remember what I said about us getting along until Saturday night at midnight. I stupidly had the idea that we could just go back to being the way we were.

“I have an actual food processor. You don’t have to do that by hand,” I say, realizing I should have offered that a long time ago.

“I think there’s something nice about doing it by hand. Not that I would never use a food processor, but if at all possible, I always shred my cabbage by hand.”

So now I’m thinking that he’s not afraid to do things the hard way, if he thinks there’s a benefit there. Or maybe, just because it’s good. I think about what that means, and I can’t shake the idea that Lucas is far different than what I thought and far better as well.

eight

. . .

Lucas

“I thinkthat’s about it for today,” Kate says as I put the last container of coleslaw in the fridge. She followed me over from her shop, and we’re using the available space in my cooler.

My assistant has been barbecuing all day, but I can tell that he did not get as much done as I would have if I had been here. Still, I can’t find it in my heart to regret this at all. I’ve had a great day with Kate. I don’t want to see it end.

“You must be tired,” I say.

She nods as the door to the cooler closes, and she leans against it. “Although, the ending of this day was so much better than the beginning. I was in a panic because I didn’t think I was going to be able to do everything that I needed to. Most of that change was because of you. I truly, truly appreciate what you’ve done for me.”

Her tone is sincere, and there’s no doubt that she means what she says.

“I told you, when you win, I win too. The town wins. How could I not?”

“Easily. There are lots of people who are in competition with each other, and it’s not a friendly one. You changed the dynamic here, and I’d love to take credit for it too, but it’s you.”

“We talked about how it’s hard sometimes to change your mind. You didn’t have to go along with it. You could have stubbornly stuck with the idea that we’re rivals, working together for a short amount of time. I assume that’s not the way you think anymore?” I have some ulterior motives for this question. I have admired Kate for a while, and I’m really hoping that she’s going to answer yes.

“I guess it would be really rude of me to take advantage of you and then turn around and stab you in the back after I get what I want. I hope I’m not that kind of person.”

“That’s a yes?” I say, prodding. There’s a part of me that isn’t sure, and I really want so much for it to be true.

“Yes. That’s a yes,” she says, looking at me with a little grin, her eyes narrowed.

“Would you be interested in some meat and cheese? I have some sparkling grape juice too. If you’d be interested in a little after-work snack?”

I can see her thinking about it. I shouldn’t care so much, but there’s so much of me that wants her to say yes. I want to know that she wants to spend more time with me, not just working, but wanting to enjoy my company after the work is done, the same way I want to enjoy hers.

“I don’t want to take even more advantage of you. You have to be tired as well. I’m not the only one who worked their butt off today.”

“I’m not too tired to eat. I think I’ll be dead before that happens.”

She laughs as I had hoped and then nods her head. “Then, yes. I’d love to sit and relax and eat for a bit. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day.”

I nod. It’d definitely going to be a big day, and I’m looking forward to it. I feel like Kate and I spent a lot of time today solidifying our relationship, building on it, finding things to admire and respect about the other, and having fun while we did it. I could be wrong, but I’m hoping that tomorrow brings more of the same.

I go to my small refrigerator, where I have a tray of meat and cheese ready for snacking on while I cook. I ended up not eating it today, but I really don’t regret that. I’d much rather sit with Kate and eat it this evening.

“Can I look for glasses?” she asks.

“Sure. There are some in that cupboard,” I say.

She gets glasses out, and I arrange the meat and cheese tray and open up a package of crackers. It’s not romantic, exactly, but it feels cozy, just the two of us in the kitchen, as we sit on barstools on the other side of the counter from where I usually work.

I feel good. Like I accomplished something today, like I worked hard and things might not have turned out perfectly every single time, but I feel good about what we’ve done.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” she asks, and I like that she’s trying to make conversation.

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