Page 6 of Christmas By Lamplight
For once, he let them all go unanswered.
Tomorrow, he would go back downstairs. He would offer to fix something else. The reading chair had looked wobbly. The coffee station’s cart had a loose wheel. Small things. Useful things. Things that had nothing to do with fame or scandal or the person the world thought he was. Things that might, in some small way, distract him from what he’d cost this town.
He thought about Carrie’s face when she’d realized who he was. The flash of recognition, then something else. Not judgment. Understanding, maybe. She’d looked at him the way he imagined she looked at broken books that just needed the right kind of care.
Nice to meet you, Tom.
Tom, not Tanner Blake, the celebrity. Not Tanner Blake, the scandal. Just Tom, the guy upstairs with a toolbox.
He could be that person. He wanted to be that person.
The voices downstairs faded. A door closed. The shop went quiet.
Tanner turned away from the window and started unpacking.
Tomorrow, he would be Tom and fix something else while he tried to earn the second chance Carrie had given him without even knowing she had.
For tonight, he was grateful to be somewhere he could breathe.
Chapter Two
The next morning brought Tanner with coffee and a question.
“The reading chair,” he said, setting a cup on the counter. “It’s wobbly. Mind if I take a look?”
Carrie stared at the coffee. It was from the place two blocks over, the one she’d stopped going to when she tightened her budget. “You brought me coffee.”
“You looked like you needed it yesterday. Black, right? I guessed.”
“You guessed right.” She took the cup, and their fingers brushed. Again. This was becoming a problem. “The chair by the window? You really don’t have to?—”
“I know I don’t have to.” He was already grabbing the chair and heading toward the back of the shop.
He set the chair down in the small back room, testing the legs. The space was cramped—desk overflowing with paperwork, inventory boxes stacked against one wall, a whiteboard covered in Post-it notes and reminders. It was an organized mess, the kind that came from someone working too hard with not enough help.
His eyes caught a document at the top of the desk pile. He didn’t mean to read it, but the bold red letters were impossible to ignore:
LEASE RENEWAL NOTICE - PAYMENT DUE DECEMBER 27.
And below that, the amount: $5,000.00.
Five thousand dollars or the space reverted to the landlord.
He looked away quickly and focused on the chair. It was none of his business. She’d made it clear she didn’t want help. She didn’t want to be rescued. The last thing she needed was his prying into her finances, but the number stuck in his head.
Shannon appeared beside Carrie the moment he was out of earshot. “He brought you coffee.”
“I noticed.”
“Expensive coffee.”
“Also noticed.”
“From that place we love.”
“Shannon—”
Shannon furrowed her eyebrows. “I like coffee. I must not look like I need it.” She added, “Note to self: stop looking awake.” She gave Carrie a knowing look. “So, this is happening.”
