Page 36 of Secret Santa

What isn’t there to love aboutIto Eats?Coach Kimball sat at the counter at the diner, talking into the camera. He was twelfth person who had been posted to the Ito Eats social media pages.I’m sure plenty of people have told you about the coconut cake and how delicious it is. But it’s not even the award-winning food. It’s the community that Priscilla has created here. Her diner is a gathering place. The community views her little corner diner as the place to come to celebrate or commiserate, to get together with friends and family or to feel like family when you’re feeling lonely. It isn’t a coincidence that this diner is in the heart of Bourbon City, right here in the Square. Because Priscilla really is the heart of this city. She has gathered the whole town up and made us all feel like we’re members of her family that she fills with love every time she puts a plate in front of us.

“Damn, that guy is smooth.”

I forgot for a second that Jesse was sitting next to me.

“Who? Coach Kimball? He’s a great guy. He’s always been so supportive of the diner.”

“No.” Jesse chuckled, “Not him. Though those were really nice things he said. Like so well said. Eloquent even. But I was talking about your man.”

“My man?” I asked, raising my eyebrow in challenge. “I don’t have a man. Second what does Presley have to do with this?”

“Come on, Priscilla, now you’re just intentionally being obtuse.” He pushed off from the sofa and stormed across his living room to his picture window. His neighbor was outside with what looked like her family, building snow forts. Lennox was her name. I’d met her and her son Teddy the day before. It looked like some of her family were out there in the snow with her. I wondered offhand if their celebration was later that night, for Christmas Eve or if they waited for a big to do on Christmas day.

“Do you honestly think Tomás or Rylan would go through this kind of effort toGeorge Baileyyou? What would be their motivation? How would they even know you’re all in your feelings over some perceived slight that doesn’t even exist.”

“George Bailey? What the hell are you talking about?”

He turned toward me, a storm brewing in his eyes. It was the one thing both of us shared that linked us as siblings. Jesse had so many similarities to my mom sometimes it hurt to look at him. He had her face, just in the male form. Our eyes were from our dad. As was his shorter, beefier stature. The only thing I’d gotten from my mom was her hair. And I cherished that connection to her every day.

“George Bailey,” he said again, shaking his palms as if the words alone should ring a bell. “It’s a Wonderful Life?Where the angel trots all the neighbors of the town through his house telling him how important he is, and they’d be lost without him? Come on, how have you not seen the movie?”

Holy fuck. I’d reallyhadbeen George Bailey’d. And there was no doubt in my mind who was behind it.

ChapterTwenty-Seven

She was watching. Tomás and Rylan would show me the views on the restaurant’s social media profiles. It wasn’t every day, but her name would pop up every couple of days as one viewers. I was determined that she see she wasn’t just the town “duff.” That people saw her forherand not the sins of her father. If I had to post a million videos in order for her to accept it, I would.

Cash: Since Beckett’s wedding is bringing everyone together in a week, Mom said she would be okay with me taking care of the Christmas plans. We’re getting together at Harlow’s sister’s house on Christmas Eve. 212 Cress Creek Drive in Naperville.

The plan had always been to fly home to Chicago for Christmas and then we were all flying together to Las Vegas for Beckett and Lane’s wedding. I still held the smallest grain of hope that I could crack through the walls Priscilla had erected in time for her to join me at Beckett’s wedding. Iwantedher to be there so badly. Not just because she’d been invited but because she’d fit so well with my brothers. I wanted Cash to meet her. Harlow and Lane too. I wanted them all to become friends with Priscilla. To create a group chat with the girls just like I had with my brothers. To make plans for girls’ weekends at a spa or in Vegas or whatever the hell women liked to do for fun. I just desperately wanted everyone to see how wonderful she was.

Me: Merry Christmas beautiful. I miss you. I hope you’re okay. Whenever you want to talk, I'm here.

My fingers itched with the desire to keep texting her. To send her a long apology. Tell her all the ways I think I’d worked out where it went wrong, in my head. But one thing at a time. She needed to actually talk to me first. I just wanted her to accept my apology most of all.

“She still hasn’t talked to you?” Cash asked, tossing me a beer.

“No. I hoped that the videos of everyone in town talking about how much they loved her restaurant would draw her out of her hidey hole. She called Fitzy to wish her a Merry Christmas a few hours ago. They’ve kissed and made up. I’m hoping maybe I’ll get a phone call from her as well.”

“I still don’t get it.” Harris flopped onto the sofa next to me. “You didn’t pick the Secret Santas. How can you be held responsible for falling for someone you’d never even seen until Fitzy placed you two in front of one another.”

“That’s because it doesn’t make sense. But insecurities don’t. She thinks Fitzy tricked her. And that I used her. She can’t see past her hang-ups to realize that Fitzy pairing us together was thanks to her knowing Priscilla so well that when Fitzy met me, she justknewwe were a great match. But we both know how busy Priscilla is with that diner. If Fitz hadn’t concocted some crazy thing like Secret Santas…would she ever even looked up long enough to notice?”

Harlow’s sister Lennox came into the family room to refill everyone’s drinks. Lennox’s mom and her son, Teddy, were in the basement playingMinecraftwhile the rest of us waited for our family to arrive. Beckett and Lane were in the car with my parents, and the four of them had gotten stuck on the expressway.

“Your girlfriend’s name is Priscilla?” Lennox asked, looking over my shoulder into her driveway.

“Yes,” I said. “Priscilla King.”

“Priscilla King? From Texas? Has a brother named Jesse?”

“She does.” I nodded, unsure how she knew all of those details.

“Shut the front door!” Harlow jumped from her seat next to Cash so quickly, she nearly knocked the beer out of his hand. “No fucking way.”

“What?” I asked.

“He’s in love with Little Napoleon’s sister?”

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