Baking it Merry

Chapter 4

Four

W ith a loud yawn and her hair up in a messy knot, Daphne studied her reflection and was quietly thankful that she had time to put on clean clothes and take a quick shower before Tristan showed up. For a moment, she reconsidered what she was wearing. Maybe black leggings and the sweatshirt with a picture of Humpty Dumpty wearing a scarf and carrying a coffee wasn’t the right tone for the evening. Although, it was cute and definitely funny. The caption of “Humpty Dumpty had a great fall” was hysterical! The leaves and the play on words always made her smile.

Somehow, she doubted Tristan would find it amusing.

Why she had agreed to this dinner, she had no idea. She still didn’t like him and had her doubts about trusting him, but…

“A girl’s got to eat, right?” she murmured before walking out to answer the door.

When she opened it, Tristan stood there looking mildly uncomfortable and she fought the urge to giggle. The front porch of her little home was fully decorated for fall—the Halloween decorations came down last week—but now there were tons of pumpkins and bales of hay and orange twinkly lights adorning the space. If her gingerbread house made him grumpy, she knew he was positively twitching right now.

“Hey, Tristan,” she said with a smile. “Come on in.”

“Thanks,” he murmured, stepping inside. He stopped a few feet in and waited for her. Her house was small, and the living room and eat-in kitchen were all one big open space, so she wasn’t sure why he wasn’t going over to the kitchen table, but…whatever.

“I have the table all set for us.” Motioning toward the table, she took the lead and walked over. “I wasn’t sure what you liked to drink, but I’ve got some sweet tea, water, and root beer. Looking at him, she shrugged. “Sorry. I haven’t had time to shop for groceries this week, so it’s not the greatest selection.”

“It’s fine,” he assured her, placing the pizza down. “And root beer actually sounds great. I haven’t had one in years.”

Within minutes, they were both seated and she was so hungry that she had to remind herself not to eat like a beast. Still, she took two bites before even attempting conversation. “Thank you so much for this. I really wasn’t looking forward to cooking tonight.”

His smile was small, but she could tell he understood. “I get it. I’m not great at cooking, but I get by. There are some nights I just grab takeout because I’m too tired to do anything.”

“Sadly, that’s me most days lately. In my head, I think I can do it all, but the reality is very different.” She took another bite before adding, “And there’s only so much cake a person can eat before it gets to be too much.”

“I feel that way about takeout sometimes. Like it’s all fine and there are so many options, but after a while it’s just like…enough.” Picking up a napkin, Tristan paused and looked around and Daphne could tell by the look on his face that he found her taste in decor to be a little unpleasant.

Like the way he viewed her gingerbread house.

And porch.

“So…you decorate for everything, huh? Everywhere?” His words were as stiff as his face, and when he faced her again, she caught him glancing at her sweatshirt and frowning even more.

“I do,” she said proudly, taking a second slice. “I love the holidays and surrounding myself with things that make me happy.” Although, looking around, she could see where some people might consider it overkill. There were dried leaf garlands around all the windows and along her mantle. Tiny pumpkins adorned her coffee table and kitchen island, but the scarecrow in the corner was probably a little over the top. Maybe.

For several minutes, they ate in silence.

“Let’s talk about the parties,” she blurted out when she couldn’t stand it anymore. It was obvious they had zero in common, so she might as well skip the small talk and focus on business. “You said you liked what I had planned, so…”

“I did,” he agreed before finishing his slice. “I think you really captured everything I hoped these parties would be.” Reaching for his satchel, he pulled out his laptop and set it up. He tapped on a slideshow, and Daphne marveled at the pictures.

“Is that your house?” she squeaked, unable to believe that it was real and that he lived in something like that by himself.

Until she realized maybe he didn’t.

“Your family must love having all that space. Your wife…and kids…”

“I’m not married,” he clarified. “And no kids. It’s just me. But when you design homes for a living, this is sort of what you end up with. You want your space to be custom-made.”

She’d have to take his word for it because she couldn’t even wrap her head around living in such a space if you were alone.

Forcing herself to focus when he got to the photos of the living area, she saw that the main floor was primarily all open—like hers—but way more massive.

“The space is perfect for entertaining,” she said. “I think having the living room, dining room, and kitchen all open like that is perfect for what we’re going to do. And your kitchen is an absolute dream! That island alone could handle everything we’re going to serve.” It was done in a T shape and just…huge. She imagined having all that space to bake in her own house instead of having to rent space and got seriously jealous. Pushing that thought aside, she watched a few more slides. “Or we can set up some things on the island and some on the dining room table. It looks like it seats like…”

“Twelve,” he supplied. “But if we set it up to serve, where would people eat?”

“These aren’t formal events, so you don’t want them sitting down at the table to eat. Parties are for gathering and socializing, so you want your guests to be able to pick up their food and mingle. We’d put the chairs away or set them up in small clusters around the space to supplement the existing seating.”

For a moment, he just looked at her. “Do you have catering experience? Because you just seem to have a real grasp on this sort of thing.”

“When I was in college, I worked for a catering company. I was with them for a little over four years and pretty much helped out in every capacity—server, setup, driver, dishwasher, DJ, assistant chef, baker, and bartender. But just for total transparency, the DJ and bartending thing only happened once; it was during flu season and we were shorthanded.”

That made him chuckle. “Good to know.”

“Anyway, I just learned a lot while I was working with them, so I feel confident in what I’m suggesting. Of course, you can do whatever you want. These are your parties, so if you want them to be more formal and have people sit down with place cards and whatnot, we can do that too.”

“I didn’t say I wanted it formal,” he corrected stiffly. “I just thought…” Sighing loudly, he reached for his drink. “I don’t know what I thought. This really isn’t my thing, so I feel a bit out of my element.”

Even if he didn’t admit it out loud, Daphne knew. For a man who seemed confident—almost arrogant—there was a vulnerable side to him where these parties were concerned, and it was actually kind of sweet that he was feeling this way.

“You’re going to be fine,” she assured him. “The first party is family, so there is really no pressure there. I mean, it’s going to be twenty-five people who you know and love. It’s the perfect way to ease yourself into the whole thing. And since it’s right after Thanksgiving, it’s also a great way to help everyone kick off the holiday season. Trust me; it’s going to be great.”

The look on his face told her he wasn’t convinced.

“Are you going to get a tree for everyone to help decorate?”

Picking up a fresh slice of pizza, Tristan shook his head. “I don’t think I can handle that.”

“Really? Why not? Don’t you get a tree every year?”

“Well, yeah, but…I’m a little…um…particular about how I like it decorated.”

Which meant he was a control freak.

Rather than say anything, she grabbed another slice for herself.

“That’s it? You’re not going to say anything?” he asked in disbelief. “Come on. I know you’ve got to have some thoughts on that.”

Shaking her head, she took a giant bite of her pizza.

“The fact that you’re eating instead of answering me speaks volumes.” There was amusement in his tone now, thankfully. “It’s okay. I already know what you’re thinking, but I can’t help the fact that I like my tree to look…tasteful. Classy. The thought of everyone just throwing ornaments on it all willy-nilly makes me very uncomfortable.”

Taking a long drink of water, she knew she had to proceed with caution so she didn’t offend him and lose this gig. “Tristan, this is your family, not a group of strangers. You can have your tree up and decorated and just have a set of ornaments—twenty-five of them—that they put on the tree. The next day, if you really cannot handle seeing them there, you take them down. This way you still have your tree your way, but it gives everyone something fun to contribute to the party.” After another sip of water, she suggested, “Or set up a smaller tree just for the sake of the party that they can decorate.”

“I don’t know…”

Doing her best not to lose her patience, she said, “You ask everyone to bring an ornament to put on the tree—your actual tree. Then you only end up with half the amount since I’m guessing most of the people coming are couples.”

“That…could work.”

“But, they could bring really goofy ornaments and your face will get all scrunched up and they’ll know you hate them. By having the ornaments there for everyone to put on the tree, you at least know you’ll like them.”

“I think that’s the safer option because…yeah. Everyone knows how I am, and they’ll definitely make fun of me and bring ridiculous ornaments just to watch me squirm.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why he didn’t just unclench, but she didn’t.

“We can make individual goodie bags as thank you gifts to everyone,” she went on. “I can make up twenty-five bags with, say…three cookies and maybe a candy cane in it. Or we can order some candles from Kaitlyn—she owns the booth next to mine and makes soaps and candles. We can do them up with pretty bows on them and put them in cute gift bags.”

“Why can’t we do both?” he asked. “The cookies in a bag and the candles with a bow. Done.”

That was much easier than she thought it would be.

“Okay! Perfect! And the ornaments? Do you have extras you’ll use, or are you going to order them?”

“I’ll ask Faye to order some. She knows my taste, so I’ll be able to relax.”

That made her laugh softly. “Wow.”

Fortunately, he didn’t take offense. “This is just who I am, Daphne.”

And that said it all.

For another hour, they went over other details, and it wasn’t until she started yawning that she realized she hadn’t really heard anything Tristan said for the last several minutes.

“I’m really sorry, but…”

“It’s okay,” he said softly as he closed his laptop and got to his feet. “I promised I’d be gone by nine and it’s almost that time.” Without a word, he put their dishes in the sink and helped her straighten up. “I really appreciate your willingness to meet with me tonight.”

“Thank you for suggesting it and bringing dinner.” Another yawn. “Sorry.”

Gathering up his things, he slowly walked toward the door. “I will see you in the morning, and if there’s anything else you need to know, don’t hesitate to call or email.”

“I will, Tristan. Have a good night.”

When he stepped out onto the porch, he looked around and frowned again before wishing her a good night. Daphne stood in the doorway until he was in his car—some sort of fancy SUV that looked brand new—and drove away.

Alone, she closed the door and locked it before padding to her bedroom and changing into her pajamas. Overall, it was a very pleasant evening, and it gave her hope that working for Tristan wasn’t going to be as hard as she initially thought it would be. The evening didn’t reveal anything she didn’t already know—like how he was a control freak—but only time would tell if there was more to him than his grumpy attitude and controlling ways.

“But being particular about his Christmas tree is kind of cute,” she murmured as she got ready for bed. “And so is the fact that he’s stressing out because he doesn’t want to let his mother down.”

So which guy was he—Grinchy Grincherson or Mr. Less-Than-Grinchy Grincherson?

Daphne seriously hoped he was neither and just a nice guy who was just misunderstood.

A girl could dream, right?

Anyone who knew Tristan would say was that he was very rigid and all about boundaries. Those traits were positives when he was designing buildings. However, they were complete negatives in his personal life.

The day of the first party had him freaking out at the amount of chaos going on in his home.

And it was all courtesy of Daphne.

She had shown up right after lunch, even though the party didn’t begin until seven. Walking around the house, she touched things, moved things, and basically walked around like she owned the place.

Pfft, like that would ever happen. A woman wearing a hot pink coat with fuzzy white trim, a matching hat, and mittens would not be the kind of person to live in a custom-designed luxury home.

And while he knew he was being incredibly snobbish, he just never saw anyone like Daphne in one of the homes he designed.

The front door was wide open and she just kept coming and going, bringing in more stuff every time she reappeared. There were boxes scattered all around the living room, dining room, and kitchen—some were open with things spilling out and others were still closed. His right eye twitched as he took it all in.

“Um…wouldn’t it be better to just…you know…organize everything and set up one section at a time? And what is all this stuff, anyway? We didn’t discuss anything more than the desserts.”

Taking off her hat, coat, and mittens and tossing them on his sofa, she smiled. “Tristan, all the drawings I sent to you showed you the displays we were going to do. That included tablecloths and assorted holiday decorations. You knew this.”

Now that she reminded him, he knew she was right. He just hadn’t expected it to all start with such a mess.

“Can I help with anything? Maybe pick some of these boxes up and put them where you need them?”

Waving him off, she moved around with no real rhyme or reason. “You’re sweet, but I’ve got this. Why don’t you just go and relax and I’ll be done in an hour or so.”

The thought horrified him. “You’re going to put out the desserts this early? Won’t some of them go bad?”

Laughing, she walked by him with an armful of red fabric. “I’ll be back around six with all the food. Right now, I’m just setting up everything else so that later on, the only thing I’ll have to handle is the food. I’ll be in and out before your guests arrive.”

“Oh.” For some reason, he just assumed she was going to stay.

“You hired two servers to help throughout the night, so you’ll be fine. You’ll be able to relax and just play host.” Then she chuckled softly. “Well, maybe not relax , but you’ll hopefully be able to enjoy yourself. Did you get the ornaments?”

Nodding, he walked across the room, picked up a box, and brought it over to her. “Faye showed me probably two dozen different types, and these were the least offensive.”

The look she gave him was full of disapproval. “And you’re just going to put them out in this box?”

“This is what they came in,” he reasoned. “It’s either this or I’d have to just put them on a table and…no. That’s not going to happen.”

Her smirk spoke volumes. “I have a cute basket at home you can use. I’ll bring it when I come back with the food later.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Tristan, with all the hard work I’m putting into making this place look festive, there’s no way you’re going to ruin the aesthetics with a plain box filled with bubble wrap and Styrofoam peanuts.”

He supposed she had a point, but he hated how much better she was at this than he was, and this wasn’t even her specialty.

“Can I ask you something?”

Daphne kept setting things up. “Sure!”

“Why don’t you do this full time? Like…why aren’t you a caterer full-time or have your own bakery? You obviously know what you’re doing. Why limit yourself to eight weeks out of the year in a makeshift gingerbread house in the lobby of an office building when you clearly love this?”

Rather than respond, she just kept working.

And rather than pushing her, Tristan stood back and watched as his house transformed into a bit of a holiday wonderland.

But—shockingly—not in an over-the-top kind of way. Daphne set the tone for a holiday party that was going to be elegant rather than obnoxious.

Like her gingerbread house and front porch.

“Faye mentioned that you were having champagne delivered,” she said a few minutes later. “Are you going to set up a bar or something? Are you planning on serving anything else, like hot cider or eggnog or hot chocolate? We only sort of touched on that topic, but never confirmed it for this party.”

Damn. The hot chocolate bar would have been nice. His mother always enjoyed sipping cocoa by the fire during the winter months and she would have loved something so creative here tonight. “It totally slipped my mind,” he admitted. “I’m guessing it’s too late to make that happen now.”

Pausing, she glanced around. “The coffee bar you have is too tucked away to really make a statement. The butler’s pantry is a nice touch for everyday living, but we want everything to be out in the open for your guests to see rather than make them go hunting for it.” Biting her bottom lip, she continued to consider the space. “The sideboard there in the dining room area. Is there an outlet behind it? Can we move it a little?”

“Um…”

Not waiting for an answer, she walked over and began examining it. “Found one!” Then she began moving it and Tristan quickly raced over before she scratched the floor.

“Easy,” he murmured. “No need to damage the place.”

“Oh, stop. I didn’t damage anything. We only need to move this out far enough to plug in a few things.”

“Like what?”

But she wasn’t listening. Instead, she was talking to herself and then pulled her phone out of her pocket and began dictating. “Oversized crock pot filled with cocoa, peppermint spoons, marshmallows, peppermint liqueurs, whipped cream, sprinkles, peppermint sticks, cinnamon sticks, mugs, candies…ladle.” Putting her phone away, she smiled at him. “I don’t suppose you have any of those things, do you?”

“Um…no?”

“Hmm…it will make things a little tight on time, but I think we can make it happen. I can get all the supplies, and I’ll bill you for them separately. If we do it right, we can re-use some items at the office party.”

“Can’t we just buy new things?”

“Some of it we can, but decoration-wise, we can re-use a lot of it. The crock pot, mugs, and whatever leftover toppings we have…”

“I have mugs.”

“Red ones? Santa ones? Anything festive?”

Frowning, Tristan slid his hands into his pockets. “I think we both know the answer to that.”

“That’s what I thought.” Pausing, she walked across the room and began unpacking lanterns and candles. “Can you set up the goodie bags in the butler’s pantry? Toward the end of the night, the servers can bring them out and place them on the island, but for now it would be best to have them just slightly out of sight.”

“Sure.”

They worked for another hour when Daphne declared they were done. “Okay, I’m going to go and do a quick shopping trip for the hot cocoa bar supplies. I’ll be back here at six to finish setting up with the servers. I promise to be out of here before your guests arrive.”

“I think it would be better if you stayed for the entire party.” There. He said it.

Shaking her head, she picked up her coat and purse. “Sorry, I can’t. Besides, that’s why the servers are here. I don’t need to supervise anything. Plus, my friend Sara invited me to her company holiday party, so…I’m going to put on my party dress and enjoy a night out.”

It wasn’t rational, but it really irked him that she wasn’t planning on staying. Were these servers reputable? Could he trust them in his home and to stay on top of things? Did they know what the schedule was?

“I can tell by the look on your face that you’ve got something to say, Tristan. So…out with it.”

It was said sweetly, but he knew she was secretly mocking him.

“I just thought the caterer stayed for the event; that’s all. You never mentioned that you wouldn’t be here.”

Neither spoke for several long moments, and he figured it was only a matter of time before she saw his logic and agreed to cancel her plans.

“The servers are professionals and if I stay, I’m just going to be in the way. All the desserts are self-serve so there is no reason for you to have three people standing around watching all of you eat. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to the store so we can have the hot cocoa bar. I’ll see you at six!”

As soon as she turned to walk away, he called out, “I’d like you to be back at 5:30. Please,” he added, because he knew he was sounding a little like a dictator. “You know, since you have the hot cocoa bar to set up now too.”

The smile this time was tight. “Then I’ll see you at 5:30.”

“And hot cider? Is it too late to add that?”

The sigh was soft and tinged with mild annoyance, but she offered him a faint smile. “I’ll take care of it.”

When she turned to walk away, he let her. But he still had his doubts about how the rest of the night was going to go.

“What did you do?” Daphne screeched when she arrived at 5:30. With a small cry of dismay, she practically ran around the house before she came to a stop in front of him, waving her arms. “Seriously, what did you do? Why did you change everything? Do you have any idea how hard I worked? Do you realize why everything was set up the way it was?”

“Um…” Honestly, he thought it was just set up that way because she liked it. “There was a reason?”

“Yes, Tristan! There was a reason!” Mumbling under her breath, she took off her coat—a longer black wool one this time—and threw it on his couch. Tonight she had on a retro style red dress with white furry trim on the collar and wrists.

Like Mrs. Claus.

Good grief…

Still, it was fitted to the waist before the skirt flared out and it showcased a fabulous figure that she’d been hiding beneath her sweaters and sweatshirts.

Red heels clicked on the hardwood floors as she walked around in dismay. “How am I supposed to fix all of this before everyone arrives, plus set up what I need to?” She glared hard at him. “You knew where everything was going! Why would you do this?”

“I just thought…”

“That I didn’t know what I was doing?” she yelled at him. “Or that you know better, even though you’ve never catered anything in your life? Honestly, Tristan! You just made everything so much more difficult, and the thing is, you don’t even care!”

That wasn’t completely true, but…

Luckily, he was saved from having to respond as their two servers arrived. Tristan was about to introduce himself when Daphne began giving them orders in her own sweet-but-stern way.

“Slight change of plans,” she began. “Some things got moved around while I was gone that I need to fix. Marcus, I’m going to need you to start carrying in all the food, please. And Jackie, I would really appreciate it if you could set up the hot cocoa bar over there on the sideboard. The hot cider will go there too, just at the opposite end. I have everything made and put it in an insulated bag on the front seat of the truck. There’s a box on the floor in front of it with everything you’ll need to set it up.”

“You got it, Daph!” she said as she quickly made her way toward the front door.

“Is there anything I can do…?” Tristan hesitantly asked.

With a snort of disgust, she began rearranging all the decorations she had originally set up in the living room. “Got a time machine so we can go back to where I left everything a few hours ago?”

“Okay, fine. I shouldn’t have touched anything,” he admitted. “I just thought…”

Holding up a hand to stop him, she gave him the barest of glances as she said, “We don’t have time for this. If you really want to help, please just…go away and let us work.”

He heard the weariness in her voice and, knowing how she was usually so cheery and upbeat, it made him feel guilty.

But he still went out to her truck and helped Marcus carry tray after tray after tray of desserts. He got Jackie an extension cord for the crock pots and twinkly lights she was using on the hot cocoa bar. At one point Daphne handed him a basket for the ornaments he was going to let everyone put on the tree tonight and told him to gently place them all in it and to put it on the console table behind his sofa.

He didn’t dare argue or try to place it anywhere else.

It took a little over an hour, but everything was in place and looked even better than he could have imagined. He was just finishing setting up a bar where everyone could serve themselves, since it was just family, when Daphne came walking toward him.

“Everything is all set,” she politely informed him. “Both Marcus and Jackie know exactly what to do and will make sure everything gets cleaned up and will assist your guests with whatever they need. If you have any questions…”

“So you’re not going to stay?”

Shoulders sagging slightly, she gave him a weary smile. “We’ve already discussed this. There is no need for me to stay. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

For the life of him, Tristan had no idea why this was so important to him, but he also didn’t want to have this discussion in front of her staff. Gently, he placed a hand on her arm. “May we speak in private?”

Daphne looked around. “Um…my coat was here on the sofa…”

“I put it inside.” And, with what he hoped was a boyish grin, he added, “You know, because I’m a control freak who doesn’t like anything out of place.”

She blushed but seemed to nod in agreement—either at his description or to staying so they could speak in private.

Motioning to the doorway on the far side of the living room, he let Daphne walk ahead of him. She came to a halt when she stepped into the room, nearly causing Tristan to bump into her.

“Why would you ask me to come into this bedroom?” she asked, spinning around to face him.

“This is where I placed your coat and purse. I knew they’d be fine in here.”

“Oh. Okay.” After letting out a soft breath, she looked at him expectantly.

“First, I’d like to apologize for moving everything around earlier,” he began. “And if it makes you feel any better, I realized it was a mistake, but then I panicked and couldn’t get anything back the way you did, so…I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” she replied softly. “I’m sure that was hard for you to admit.”

“Second, I would genuinely feel better if you stayed for the party. I know you have plans, but…this is my first time hosting, and I feel like everyone’s expecting me to fail.”

“Why would you even think that? Clearly your mother trusted you with this or she never would have asked.”

“Because I’m the only single one. Everyone else is married and believe me, both of my sisters-in-law are amazing. They both have these incredible careers and every event they host is flawless. Do you really think asking me to host a dessert party was an accident? I mean…I’m sure they’re all expecting champagne and cookies and nothing more.”

“But…you were going to just serve champagne and cookies.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he mentally counted to ten. “You get what I’m trying to say, right? Everyone’s going to be here with a bit of a critical eye and…”

“All the more reason for me not to be here, Tristan. Let them think you did this all on your own!”

“But I didn’t! Everything I tried to ‘fix’ was a mistake! I’m many things, but I’m not a liar.” Pausing, he took a step closer. “I’ll pay you double.”

“What?!”

Nodding, he explained. “I’ll pay you double what I already paid you if you stay. I just…I need a hostess, Daphne! Please!”

She bit her bottom lip—something that looked far more appealing than it should have—as she considered his offer.

“There’s no way I can be your hostess,” she said after a long moment. “That implies a level of…intimacy, and that’s not something we have. Most days, we can barely tolerate each other. However, I think we have a healthy respect for each other. But…all I’m going to end up doing is standing around feeling awkward.”

“That’s not…”

“And I saw the way you looked at my dress when I got here. Your entire face scrunched up like I was crazy.”

“You look a little like Mrs. Claus…”

Leaning in closer, she said, “And I have the matching hat in my purse.”

“What does this…?”

“No one is going to buy that I’m anything more than the caterer,” she argued. “Saying I’m the hostess is just wrong. Plus, you just said that you’re not a liar. You don’t need me. You’re going to be fine. Trust me.”

In the distance, he heard the front door open, followed by voices. Apparently, his family was starting to arrive. “I really wish you’d reconsider,” he urgently blurted out.

Turning, Daphne walked over to the bed and scooped up her coat and purse. “Have a little faith,” she told him, but when she turned around, her heel caught on the small area rug he had under the bed, and she tripped with a small cry. Tristan immediately moved in and caught her in his arms, steadying her as they both straightened.

Her green eyes were like saucers, and they were standing so close that he could feel her breath on his skin. “Daphne, I…” he whispered.

“Oh my goodness! This is the best holiday gift ever!” someone called out.

Not just someone. His mother.

“Dan! Look! Tristan has a date! I told you it would happen!” And before he knew it, his mother joined them in a group hug.