Chapter 13
Saturday, December 8
Marco parked behind the Precious Paws building on Windrush Drive, and the three of us went inside. This place was fancier than a spa for humans, with shiny hardwood floors, walls painted a soothing off-white, and three sparkling chandeliers suspended from the ceiling. Soft instrumental music played in the background, and a Christmas tree stood in the corner, filled with crocheted ornaments shaped like cats, dogs, bunnies, and birds.
The teak shelving units on the right side of the lobby held an array of pet accessories, and when I saw the price tag on a multicolored knotted rope ball, I quietly whistled. My sister probably spent more on one of Dazey’s grooming sessions than she did on a facial for herself.
The man behind the reception desk greeted us with a gigawatt smile. He stood as we got closer, and his cat-in-a-Santa-hat-print shirt inscribed with the words Meowee Catmas immediately made me grin.
As he welcomed us to Precious Paws, a tall woman with short black hair and a pink apron came through a doorway at the back and walked up to us, her hand outstretched. “Such a pleasure to see Dazey again. I’m Jill, and you must be Callie. Anita’s told me lots about you.”
“Only the good stuff, I hope,” I said. “This is Marco.”
“Good to meet you both,” Jill said as we all shook hands. “I’ll get started on Dazey, and it’ll take about an hour. You’re welcome to wait here, or there’s the Odd Duck if you’re hungry. It’s a cute pub around the corner and to the left on Dunn Street. Their food’s delicious.”
Marco looked at me. “I could eat. How about you?”
“Dinner sounds fantastic,” I replied. “I’m famished.”
“Great,” Jill said. “Leave your number, and I’ll text when we’re done.”
The Odd Duck was a short walk away and located in a two-story white brick townhouse with huge windows from which soft, golden light spilled onto the street. A chalkboard outside boasted Thursday Date Night Special—All Apps 50% Off in swirly writing, which I swiftly pretended not to notice. This wasn’t a date.
“Are you sure you have time for this?” I asked Marco. “I could always Uber home.”
“It wouldn’t feel right leaving you,” he replied as we approached the heavy wooden door that had a brass handle shaped like a mallard’s head. “Vince and I prepared as much as we could for tomorrow, and I’ve wanted to try this place for months.”
He held the door open for me, and as we walked into the Odd Duck, we were immediately welcomed by the delicious aroma of gravy and roasted almonds. An instrumental version of “Driving Home for Christmas” played softly on the sound system, and when the host led us to our table, past the slender Christmas tree covered in midnight-blue and silver ornaments, my heart bounced around my rib cage like one of those expensive balls at Precious Paws.
It felt a little intimate, going to dinner with Marco like this, but I pushed away the thought because it didn’t matter. I wasn’t ready to bet on love again, not yet, not when it had taken me all these months to get to a place where I was moving beyond the breakup with Oliver.
And yet…Marco and I would be here for the next hour, offering me the chance to learn more about him. Suddenly, I found myself wanting to know everything about him because, truth was, I liked his company, his sense of humor, and our conversations.
Marco and I settled into the high-backed red velvet chairs, and after our server had brought us water and told us about the specials, we leafed through the leather-bound menus.
“The food looks awesome,” Marco said, eyes lighting up.
“A plate of something delicious is exactly what I need,” I said. “Thanks again for helping me today, and for bringing Dazey to the groomer. Anita will be ecstatic.”
“I’m glad you’re all right.” He smiled. “Did you say your sister’s in Orlando?”
“Yes. She’s an engineer and works for a roller coaster designer.”
“That’s incredible.”
“Do you like the rides?” I asked.
“On a case-by-case basis,” Marco answered. “Are you a fan?”
“No,” I replied with a laugh. “It’s one of the many ways Anita and I are very different. What about you and your brother? Do you have lots in common?”
“Not a huge amount, but we get along well,” he said. “Syd’s five years older and loathes cooking. We look a little alike, although he’s a few inches shorter. He works as a sound engineer part-time and spends the rest of his time with his boys.”
We were interrupted by the server coming to take our order, and Marco and I both chose the bacon-wrapped cod with a mushroom and Parmesan risotto. When asked if we wanted to share an appetizer, I shook my head. “I’d rather save room for dessert.”
Marco laughed. “Ditto.”
Once we were alone again, I took a sip of my ice water and asked, “Is your love for the sweet stuff why you became a chef?”
Marco sat back, his face filling with joy. “You know how you said you have chocolate in your veins because you’re half Swiss? Well, for me, it’s cooking. My mom’s a classically trained chef and owns two restaurants in Portland.”
“Wow, that’s incredible. Is she who you got your passion for cooking from?”
“Definitely. Mom and I always make stuff together when I’m home. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t help her in the kitchen. Pastries and cakes were always our favorite thing.”
“Same here.”
Marco chuckled. “Dad always said if we didn’t stop trying out recipes, he might not fit behind his drum kit.”
“He plays the drums?” I asked. “That’s cool. Do you play any instruments?”
“Not even the triangle,” Marco said with a sigh. “All his musical talent went to my brother.”
“Funny how siblings can be so different, isn’t it?” I said. “Anita was always dubbed the wild one, rebelling and bending the rules. I’ve never been adventurous. Like Oliver said when we bumped into him sledding, I’m still called Calamity Callie and Cautious Callie back home.”
“I don’t think either are fair,” Marco said. “I mean, you followed your heart, moved out of state, took a new job, and—”
“Got stuck on my roof.”
“Well, that was definitely adventurous.”
“Yeah, let’s call it that from now on,” I said, laughing, although Marco had a point—those had been somewhat risky decisions. I was so focused on my failed relationship, I didn’t see all the courageous moves that got me to this point. It was odd how I’d never even thought of myself like Marco was in this moment, but I liked and appreciated the new perspective.
When we took the first bites of our meals, we each let out a long sigh. “This is delicious,” I said as I plunged my fork back into the creamy risotto. “I can’t wait to see their dessert menu, though nothing will ever beat your chestnut cheesecake.”
Marco smiled. “I promise I’ll bring you some next time. We make it almost daily.”
“I’m not surprised it’s popular.” I looked up at him, eager to peel back the layers of this man in front of me. “Was moving here and setting up the company hard? It sounds really daunting.”
“Definitely,” Marco answered, setting down his fork. “Vince grew up here and had some business connections, so that helped a lot in the initial start-up phase. We’re determined to make things work. There’s nothing quite like the drive to succeed when you don’t have a plan B.”
“Your parents must be very proud,” I said. “It’s too bad you can’t get back to Maine. Maybe after their cruise?”
“Maybe,” Marco agreed. “It’s tricky with the amount of catering gigs Dessert Dudes has, and…” He paused, shook his head. “To be honest, that’s not entirely accurate.”
I put my fork down. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated another moment. “We’re super busy, but truth is my parents gave me a loan to start Dessert Dudes. I’m a bit wary of facing their questions about the state of the company finances right now, you know? Not until I have proper clarity. I don’t want to lie.”
“I understand.”
Marco looked into my eyes, and I saw how difficult this confession had been for him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t completely up-front with you before,” he said quietly. “The messy chaos we’ve got ourselves into isn’t something I’m proud of.”
“No need to apologize,” I said softly, wondering if I should reach for his hand but not quite daring to, and admiring the fact that he’d opened up to me despite not having to. “I’m happy to help in any way I can. Have you mentioned involving me in the bookkeeping to Vince?”
“When I broached the subject, he was elbow-deep in a new batch of puff pastry because the first didn’t turn out right, so he wasn’t exactly receptive. But I called the references you sent me.” Marco smiled, and when our eyes met, I noticed the shimmering flecks of gold in his eyes. “They sang your praises so loud you must’ve heard them.”
“That’s great.” I dropped my gaze before he noticed me staring. “Maybe if I help you clear up the admin, you can get home in January, if only for a few days.”
Marco frowned a little. “Are you still sure about this? Especially considering it’ll increase your workload and prevent you from making it back home for Christmas.”
“Okay, my turn for confession time.” If Marco had found the courage to be honest, I could do the same without fear of judgment. “I wasn’t truthful about why I don’t want to go to Virginia.” I sighed as I looked at my plate, my appetite almost vanishing. “Oliver’s parents live next door to mine, and he’ll be there with Sarah.”
“Oof. No wonder you’re staying here.”
“Yeah. Part of me wants to go home, of course, and spend time with my family because I usually love Christmas, but this year…” I trailed off, shaking my head.
“Can I ask you something personal?” Marco said gently, and when I nodded, he added, “Are you avoiding going home because you’re still in love with Oliver? Please tell me to mind my own business if you don’t want to answer.”
“No, it’s okay,” I replied. “And no, that’s not it. It’s more a sense of uncomfortable guilt.”
“How so?”
I took a sip of water. “Our mothers are very close, have been for years. They practically wrote Oliver’s and my future together when we were in first grade, so I feel like I’ve let them down. Does that make sense?”
“Completely,” Marco said. “My folks weren’t super close to Ruby, but they met a few times. Funny thing is, when we broke up and I told them it was because I suspected her of cheating, I felt like I’d done something wrong. That her seeing someone behind my back was entirely my fault.”
“It wasn’t though,” I said. “It was her decision.”
“I guess it took me a while not to blame myself for her actions,” Marco admitted. “Like you said, disappointing family is uncomfortable. You know, maybe we’re not the only ones feeling this way. Perhaps Ruby and Oliver do, too.”
I let out a snort. “Unlikely in my ex’s case. Have you seen who he’s engaged to? Sarah’s gorgeous.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful,” Marco replied.
The heat of a blush flashed across my cheeks. “Thank you. You’re very generous. Delusional, but generous.”
Marco laughed. “Just being honest again.”
I smiled at him, suddenly more than a little thankful to my sister for taking me to the cookie baking session and setting me up to help Marco with his company finances. “Anyway, now you know the real reason why I’m staying in Fallbrook, and why I’m happy to work on your bookkeeping. It’ll keep me busy over the holidays. Also, let’s not forget I owe you after today.”
“You really don’t,” Marco said. “But thank you. I’ll get our paperwork together within a day or two. Maybe I can surprise Vince with the promise of immaculate records as a Christmas present. What do you think?”
“Perfect,” I said, trying to convince myself the anticipation bubbling in my stomach had nothing to do with seeing Marco again so soon. I wanted time to slow down so I could enjoy the evening for longer, but Jill texted, saying Dazey was ready.
“No time for dessert after all,” I said, and as Marco waved the server over for the check, I went to grab my wallet.
“Please.” Marco held up a hand. “Let me get dinner.”
“No, I couldn’t possibly. Not with everything you’ve done already.”
“It’s my pleasure, Callie,” he insisted. “The food was terrific, and the company even better. I know I sound like a cliché by saying there’s never a dull moment when I’m in your company…but it’s true. Just look at today. I like hanging out with you.”
I glanced at him, taking in the sincerity of his words and the gentleness in his eyes. I wanted to reply how much I enjoyed his company, too, and that he was great to be around, but it felt too serious, too indicative of something significant.
Instead, I leaned forward and whispered, “Could you please tell the cat?”