Page 30 of Mistletoe Masquerade
Okay, so it was only two encounters, but they were jam-packed with a thousand scrumptious tidbits, and now, he’s gone. It’s no wonder I feel like hiding in a hole.
It’s been a week, Sach. Time to shake it off.
A full week, and no word from him. I have to assume it’s over and move on.
My phone buzzes with a call, and my emotions take a dizzying leap of hope, only to plummet when I see it’s the manager of the catering company I work with. I stare at the screen and debate whether to answer. I don’t want to. I don’t want to do anything, but I need to take the call if I’m going to claw my way out of this pit of despair.
I sigh wearily and tap the green accept button.
“Hey, Shelly. What’s up?”
“We’ve got a last-minute request for Saturday evening—it’s a holiday donors’ appreciation dinner for some kids’ charity. Black tie. One hundred guests. I know you said you didn’t want to work that day, but everyone else is booked up, and they were super excited about this. Someone from the police ball saw your work and asked for you specifically.”
Oh … well, that’s always nice to hear. And it’s a small event … for kids. The black-tie part doesn’t really affect me. I usually set up my contribution, then head out, but I like to know that sort of thing to make sure my designs are suitable for the theme.
“What are they wanting?” I’ve learned the hard way to always ask this crucial question before agreeing to an event.
“The charity logo carved in a watermelon and some kind of festive border. I’ll text you the logo. Hang on.”
I put her on speaker and pull up my messages. While I wait, I tell myself I need to take this job. Aside from needing the money, this would be a perfect distraction. It’s the last Saturday before Christmas. The final event of the season. I had kept the day open on my schedule when my parents had mentioned possibly coming out to visit, but that fell through. I have absolutely no reason not to work this event.
The image from Shelly pops up on my screen. It’s simple—the imprint of a small child’s hand within thelarger outline of an adult hand—and it’s so sweet that the sight tugs at my heartstrings.
“Yeah, I can do that. Send me the details.”
“Thank you so much, Sachi! I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. If I don’t see you, have a Merry Christmas.”
“You, too!”
I close my phone and look around my dark apartment with a tiny seed of hope sprouting in my chest. Usually, I’d have all the multicolored lights glowing bright in my capsule apartment, but they simply felt too cheery. It’s been two days since I had them on—something that’s entirely out of character for me. The old me never would have wasted a second of the holiday season.
It’s time to make a change.
I pick up the small remote for my tree lights and click them on. The strands around the ceiling and windows are still off. I’m not ready for full-scale joy.
My wall-mounted half tree twinkles with a rainbow of color.
I adore the holiday season, and in less than a week, Christmas will be over. I don’t want to ignore the good in my life because of one disappointment. My short connection with Dean is a good reminder to appreciate what I have while I have it because life is always changing. Today, I have a cozy place in the heart of the city, pursuing a career I adore, with friends who love me. That’s plenty for me, and who knows what tomorrow may bring.
CHAPTER 16
DEAN
I lostmy parents when I was sixteen years old. If there was any sort of silver lining to their loss, it was my ability to appreciate things that most young people take for granted. Things like my dad fussing about my grades or my mom wanting to know every little detail about where I would be hanging out with friends on a Friday night.
That stuff can seem like a hassle until it’s gone.
After the loss of my parents, I would have given anything to be grounded or get a lecture—anything if it meant having them back. Since that wasn’t possible, I tried to honor their teachings as best I could.
Something my mother always preached was righting a mistake. She used to tell me that everyone messes up, and while we shouldn’t be too hard on ourselves, we also have an obligation to do what we can to atone. Often, that’s as simple as an apology. Sometimes corrective actions are needed. Either way, it’s important to own our mistakes and do what we can to fix them.
I screwed up with Sachi. Big time.
That is not up for debate.
I just hope my attempt to right the situation doesn’t blow up in my face because I’ve decided to combine my apology with a do-over. I could have gone to her place, told her I was sorry about everything, then left her alone, but I didn’t like that option. It didn’t feel like enough. I don’t want to simply smooth things over; I want another chance, and I need to earn it. When I considered the best way to go about it, I decided it would be best to go back to the beginning.
