Page 74 of Please, Stay

“Tamara. That’s the girl’s name. You and she are the sweetest things.” Martha sidled up to Grayson. He put his arm around her shoulders and a ladylike, “Oh,” escaped.

Juliana snapped the picture. Grayson hadn’t said a word to Martha.

“Now, which one do you like?” Martha took out her pen and pad from her oversized purse.

Grayson took a bite of three or four cookies and pastries. Becky pointed to another cookie. “I think you’d like that one, Grayson.” At Martha’s throat clearing, Becky corrected herself with a half-laugh. “Prince Alfred.”

He picked up the one that was white. Juliana knew the cookie. She’d helped Becky develop the recipe one night in high school.

He sniffed it, his eyes shooting to Juliana.

Becky made a small noise of triumph and waited while he took a bite. He nodded, looking at the cookie. “This one. I love the smell of vanilla.”

Just as Martha reached for a vanilla cookie, Juliana’s dad walked into the diner. “If you’re done pretending to be some famous star, Juliana, Ms. Iris said that she promised to bring Caroline to the party tonight. I’d suspect she’d like your help with the little girl.”

“No problem. I’ll help, Daddy.” She smiled at Grayson. “We can both help. Caroline met Grayson the other day. I think she has a small crush.” Acting nonchalant about Grayson’s presence made her voice sound distant and foreign.

Her dad’s eyes lingered on Grayson. “I don’t know why you’ve chosen this town and my daughter to prey upon, but I don’t like it. She has a bright future that doesn’t involve scandals and tabloids with her picture splashed across every Hollywood magazine and her name attached to yours. It could ruin her career as a serious journalist by being linked with you.”

Juliana gritted her teeth together, and her fists clenched as she clamored to find control. “It’s not going to ruin—”

“I’m not done.” He scanned the diner, mostly empty except for Becky. Oh, and Martha, who held the plate of vanilla cookies, watching the family drama unfold with her beloved Prince Alfred smack dab in the middle.

“Maybe one day,” he continued, “you’ll have a daughter and understand, but I cannot stand by and not say my piece.”

“I’ve heard your piece. At least a dozen times.” Juliana leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. “I’m not going anywhere. As Nash said earlier, and according to you, I was born here and should die here. It’s what you want, right?” The anger and accusation in her voice surprised her. “You don’t want me to leave like Eliza.”

“I’m not discussing your sister with you."

“Right. Of course not. God forbid we have a normal, adult conversation about it! Did you know she’s gotten a divorce? She’s been trying to get by, raising her daughter alone.”

“Then that should teach you a lesson. Eliza shouldn’t have left with that drifter.” He pointed his finger at Grayson. “Not much different than you, I suspect. I warned her, and she ignored me. I’m hoping you will make a better choice and end this now.”

Grayson moved to stand behind Juliana, placing his hands on her shoulders. She appreciated the support, but her patience with her dad was gone.

“Don’tevenput Grayson in the same category as Zach. Grayson is a kind, honest, successful man that has done nothing but consider me and my feelings since we started seeing each other. He’s absolutely nothing like the jackass Eliza ran off with.”

Grayson squeezed her shoulders.

Ms. Iris came through the front door with Carrie, right behind her. “Hi!” Carrie ran over to Juliana first. “I cannot wait for Santa to come!” She bounced up and down, the tinkling of the bells on her dress giving Juliana a flashback to Eliza and the year she’d worn it. They’d dug it out of the attic at her house. Their mom had placed it in a storage bag, saving it for some reason.

Even though Juliana didn’t want to be in the same room with her dad at that one moment, she caught a glimpse of his expression. Mouth open and eyes wide as he stared at the dress.

Carrie moved to Grayson next and held her arms up. He picked her up automatically.

Juliana did have a little sympathy for her dad and his confusion.

“Hi, Mr. Grayson.” She scratched his beard the way Juliana liked to, down along his cheek, where his hair felt softer than it looked. “You look like a pirate in your sock hat.”

Juliana patted Carrie’s back. “He does, right?”

Her dad turned around, slammed the papers left in his hand on the table, and exited the diner, ignoring Ms. Iris’s calls for him to stop. She turned back from the open doorway. “That didn’t work.”

“My dad recognized the dress. We’ll have her wear it again tomorrow morning when we tell him.” Juliana kissed her niece on the cheek and handed her a vanilla cookie. “Here, go help Aunt Becky with setting out more desserts. I see a pile of people headed this way from the bed and breakfast.” Carrie wiggled out of Grayson’s arms and skipped to the kitchen. “Wash your hands!” Juliana called at the last moment.

Grayson blocked Juliana’s way when she turned back around. “Jules,” he whispered as his hand slipped into her hair, his thumb brushing along her temple. “I don’t want you to ruin your chance to have a family Christmas because of me. You’ve worked so hard to have this happen. I’m not worth it.”

She rose on her toes, kissing him. “You’re more than worth it to me, Grayson. Never question that. You deserve to have a nice Christmas.”

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