Chapter Six
Bailey
“’Dashing through the snow,’” I kept singing to myself as I moved around my kitchen. It smelled like mulled wine. I’d even propped up my iPad against the wall and put a video of a fireplace on it.
I truly did need all the coziness possible because I had a ton of work to do. We’d had a mishap at work today. The electricity went out for a couple of hours, which set us back immensely. In retrospect, Avery and I should’ve just gone home as soon as it happened and continued to bake from there, but I’d hoped the generator would kick in.
Long story short, it hadn’t, so I’d still had to take everything home. Now, it was six o’clock in the evening, and I still had enough work to keep me until well past midnight. I had more pralines to bake and package, but I was focusing on the positive—that tomorrow a lot of people were going to be happy to get the pralines on time. I didn’t like disappointing anyone.
My mulled wine was more diluted than usual because I needed all my wits about me, but it still put me in a good mood. I took a small break after I shoved the new batch into the oven. I was waiting for the others to cool off enough so I could package them, so I poured myself a cup and moved my hips about as Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You” came on.
My stomach started to rumble. Whoops. That didn’t go with the chorus at all. I had to order some food, or I was going to start shoveling pralines into my mouth instead.
As I grabbed my phone, I noticed that I had an unread message from a number I didn’t recognize.
Unknown number: Hello, Bailey. This is Xander LeBlanc. Listen, I apologize about the way things turned out last time. I’d love to meet up and make it up to you. Let me know when you get this.
Oh, that infuriating man. I was such a pacifist, and yet somehow he managed to make my blood boil. I was tempted to ignore the message, but then I’d spend the rest of the evening thinking about it. That would fill me with a lot of bad vibes, and I strongly believed that my mood affected the way food I made tasted. I wasn’t going to spread bad vibes around Christmas, so it was best to get this over with.
I called his number and put the phone to my ear. I was keeping my fingers crossed for Xander not to answer, but he did.
“Hello, Bailey.”
“Hi. Sorry, I just saw the message.”
“Don’t worry. Listen, do you have some time tonight to meet?”
I took a deep breath. “Unfortunately, no. We had some issues at the confectionery today, so I’m behind. Still need to finish some things.”
“You’re still there?”
“No, I’m at home. The ovens didn’t work. I’m elbow deep in making more pralines and packaging the ones we already have... and ordering dinner.”
“I can drop by with dinner,” Xander said instantly.
“At my house?” I asked incredulously.
“If you don’t have anything against it. Do you?”
I didn’t know how I felt about having this sexy yet exasperating man here in my house. Then again, perhaps it was better to meet him on my territory. Maybe the good vibes in my house would mellow his grumpy nature.
“Why not?” I gave him my address.
“Perfect. I’ll be there in half an hour, maybe forty minutes.”
My stomach rumbled again. “Sure.” That gave me some time to make up a few more boxes.
After hanging up, I took a look around the kitchen. The place was a mess. Granted, my whole house was in a bit of a disarray these days. I called it the “Christmas mayhem look.” Since I was running around the whole time from November until January, I didn’t have time to keep things picked up. I wasn’t a slob by any means, but I wasn’t a minimalist either. I filled my place with all sorts of things.
My home was cottage core and yet very modern. It was on the same property of a large, gorgeous house. The owners had built this place as an Airbnb at first, then quickly realized it was far too much work. They couldn’t dedicate so much time to it, so now they were renting it out permanently. I had huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the small yard. They’d even planted shrubs around the bungalow so they could shield it from the view of their house. I was truly super lucky. It was off the beaten path, and I drove forty minutes to the confectionery every day, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.
I checked on a batch of pralines I’d pulled out nearly two hours ago. It was cold, so I started packing them carefully and managed to fill up three boxes. Almost unwillingly, Xander’s words came to mind.
“If you... didn’t do individual wrapping of the pralines but rather batched them, that would speed up the process.”
He was right, of course, but I thought it added to the specialness of the treat every time you unwrapped a praline.
When my doorbell rang, I startled in my chair. Had forty minutes already passed? I checked the clock and, yep, indeed they had.
I rose from my seat, wiping my hands on a kitchen towel before hurrying to the front and unlocking the door. When I pulled it open, I let out a mighty sigh. Xander LeBlanc might be a huge grump, but he was certainly very nice to look at. He was wearing a suit and nothing else. True, the weather was pleasant today, but couldn’t he have put on a jacket or something anyway to hide all that sex appeal? I bet he wasn’t even aware of how hot he was.
Nah, he probably was.
“Good evening, Bailey.”
I sniffed the aroma coming from the bag he carried. “Hi. It smells delicious, like...”
“Shrimp and chicken jambalaya,” he said with an actual grin—the first I’d ever seen on him. It only added to his good looks, damn it.
“That’s my favorite. Thank you.”
“I know. I called my grandmothers after talking to you and asked them what your favorite food is.”
I nearly did a double take as he stepped inside and I closed the door. “Wait, what?” Who is this man? Where’s grumpy Xander?
“After the way things ended last time, I couldn’t show my face around here with food you don’t like, could I?” His grin was still in place.
Was it possible that this major grump actually had a sense of humor and maybe even a heart?
I didn’t want to jump to conclusions too fast. He was simply trying to get into my good graces for some reason.
But why would he? He owned the company. If he wanted to close it, he could do so tomorrow, and I had no say in it. It was his prerogative.
“Thanks. That was very considerate of you.”
“I’d have brought you hot chocolate, too, but from my experience, it’s no good if it’s cold.”
“Define your experience,” I said, taking the bags with the food and leading him to the kitchen.
“Once, when I went to spend some time with Bella, back when my brother was still single, I bought her hot chocolate. Not from the place on Bourbon, though. It wasn’t around back then. Anyway, the dang drink was cold by the time I got to their house, and I discovered that microwaving it somehow ruins it.”
Oh, man. I was melting, and I absolutely didn’t want to. I truly needed my wits about me when this man was close to me. He’d bought hot chocolate for his niece. And he’d brought my favorite food. He couldn’t really be that bad, could he? There had to be some soul in him if he was related to Celine and Isabeau, even if they didn’t share the same views on the confectionery.
Once in the kitchen, I quickly realized that there was no place to eat. When I turned to Xander, he was looking around with wide eyes.
“What happened here?”
“Told you, I’m working.”
He looked in the oven, too, then at the new batter I’d whipped up and the boxes on the counter. “Bailey,” he said, “this will keep you up half the night.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. “I could’ve dropped by another evening.”
Hmm, decisions, decisions. Should I be totally honest with him?
Well, why the hell not? He’s been more than blunt with me.
“I wanted to get this over with.”
He trained his gaze on me. Oh, those eyes. They were my kryptonite, I swear. I quickly looked away.
“Get this over with?” he parroted slowly.
“I figured that if I postponed this, I’d keep thinking about it the whole evening. Then I’d package all the pralines with bad vibes.”
If I thought his eyes were wide before, it was nothing compared to now. They were almost comical. Why did they have to be so vibrant green? It was my favorite color too.
“Good to know where I stand,” he said, then schooled his features.
I felt sassy again. “Was that too honest?”
“Sort of. A lot of people think it, they just don’t say it to my face.”
I laughed. “Oh, Xander, you can always count on me to say the exact same thing to your face and behind your back.” That was not strictly true, though, I realized. I’d also told Avery he was hot as hell, and I’d never tell him that. “Let’s go to the living room. There’s no point trying to make space here.”
“How can I help?” he asked.
“You can grab two plates from that cabinet.” I pointed above the sink.
He took out the plates, and I immediately put the jambalaya on both of them. “You chose the same?”
“Yeah.” He moved closer to me, taking a knife from the dish rack.
That smile he gave me was downright seductive. I couldn’t figure this man out. Why did he want to get on my good side? It literally made no sense. He didn’t have any need for it. And yet if there was something I understood about him, it was that he didn’t waste his energy doing things that were unnecessary.
But it didn’t matter. I was having my favorite dinner, and hopefully after he left, I could focus on my pralines again.
He grabbed both plates, and I walked in front of him to the living room, where I had a small round table with two chairs. The only company I usually had was my sister; I didn’t invite friends over, as it was too small for that, and I liked being out and about in the city when I did socialize, especially the French Quarter.
“Your house is very welcoming.”
I looked over my shoulder before we sat down. “Are you trying to butter me up?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a bit messy right now, but the Christmas season is far too busy for me to focus on anything else. You haven’t commented on my Christmas carols.” The music was still playing in the background.
“It’s just the way you are.”
“That’s right!” I dove into my jambalaya, shoveling a few mouthfuls in before stopping for a breather. God, I was so hungry.
I closed my eyes, sitting back in my chair. This is just what I needed.
***
Xander
“This is one of the best jambalayas I’ve eaten,” Bailey said.
I could barely take my eyes off her. Her hair was sticking to her temples, and her skin was flushed from working in the kitchen. She looked exhausted but still beautiful. I couldn’t stop drinking her in.
“I won’t say it’s the best, but let’s not start an argument already.” I winked at her.
Two seconds later, she asked, “Where’s your favorite from?”
“The one Isabeau makes,” I replied without hesitation. “She’s got a special recipe, and I’ve yet to eat one that’s better.”
“She did actually offer to bring me some jambalaya once. I turned it down, figuring it’s too much work. But if she offers, again, I’ll take her up on it.”
“Trust me, it’s very good.”
She laughed. “I’ll remember that.”
She ate so quickly, it made me think she might have skipped lunch.
“Bailey,” I said carefully, “when are these boxes you’re working on due?”
“Tomorrow,” she answered before shoveling in another mouthful.
“Fucking hell. That’s going to take a lot of work before you’re done.”
She nodded. “I know. Which is why I’m happy that you brought jambalaya and livened up this evening a bit.”
“I’m starting to get compliments?” I remarked. “That means we’re making progress.”
She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as if considering her next words. “I’m still on the fence about that. Let’s see how the rest of the dinner goes. So far, you showed up in a relatively good mood and with my favorite food. You’re off to a very good start.”
I started to laugh. My entire body relaxed in her presence, which was something I wasn’t used to. When it came to business, I always had my guard up. My mind was on numbers and strategies; I didn’t laugh or joke around. It was my MO.
But this wasn’t about business anymore. I had to be honest with myself—it was about Bailey.
“I have a proposition,” I said as we were both on the last few spoonfuls of jambalaya. “I’ll stay and help.”
She frowned. “Help with what? It’s just two dishes. I can put them in the dishwasher.”
“With the boxes and the pralines.”
She looked at me incredulously and then waved her hand. “It’s fine. I’m good on my own.”
“Bailey, you’re going to get tired, you know that. How many boxes do you have to fill?”
She averted her gaze. “Quite a few.”
“And you’ve got another batch that needs to be baked. And you have to wait for it to cool off too. I saw the batter, so you can’t deny it.”
She’d opened her mouth as I was speaking, likely to do just that, but then closed it and just nodded.
“We’ll be faster between the two of us,” I encouraged. There was something drawing me to her, and I wanted to spend a bit of time in her presence to see what it was. Maybe as we got to working, I’d realize it was nothing—but I doubted it.
She narrowed her eyes again, and I knew I was about to get some more attitude. I fucking loved it. I could do this with her all night. Actually, I could do so much more than that. Her mouth was—
No, I was not going to start obsessing over it again.
“Really? You’ve got experience baking pralines?” she asked.
“No,” I admitted. “But I’m good at following instructions.”
Now she was the one who started to laugh. She moved her legs under the table, and they crashed into mine.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said between guffaws.
“Don’t worry about it.”
That slight touch only prompted me to want more. I almost reached for her over the table, but to what end? I truly wasn’t myself when I was around Bailey. I was the stick-in-the-mud brother—I owned up to that with no shame. I was focused on numbers and was cutthroat when it came to business. My feelings were secondary and had been suppressed for so long, I wondered if they might be dead. But right now, trying to keep my guard up around this woman was exhausting.
“You know what? I want to see this,” she said with an impish smile. She had a dimple at one corner of her mouth. We were definitely off to a good start.
After we finished our food, we moved back to the kitchen. Somehow the place seemed even worse now than when I first saw it. I was starting to register the details: the number of boxes, the stack of packaging for each praline, the trays set around the room to cool off the candies. But then I noticed something on her stove.
“What’s that?”
“Mulled wine. Honestly, not my best pot. I only put in a smidge of actual wine. It’s mostly just cranberry juice. Want to try it?”
I wrinkled my nose. “No, thanks. You didn’t exactly sell me on it.”
“That’s okay. I had two cups and don’t need more, but I’ll keep it simmering because I like the smell.”
“It does make everything more festive.” I clapped my hands together.
“All right, put me to work. What am I starting with?”
“Packaging. That’s the only thing I can truly trust you with. Let’s do a box together. It’s not rocket science, but it’s better if you see the way I do it.”
“Sure.” I liked her attention to detail. She approached things the way I would.
We both sat down at the wooden table side by side, and the impulse to touch her grew even stronger.
She pulled an empty box in front of us and said, “This is one of my favorites. I love our Christmas editions.”
“It looks exquisite,” I remarked. Someone receiving these treats would feel special and well thought of, unlike giving a gift of candies from the local drugstore.
“I chose the red velvet,” she said, caressing the cover with her thumb. “It feels like you’re holding a Santa Claus costume, you know?”
I actually didn’t know, and in my mind, it all seemed a bit far-fetched to me. But she was speaking with so much enthusiasm that I absolutely didn’t plan to ruin it.
That was probably the reason why I was the brother in charge of the numbers. I was the first to admit that my people skills were nothing to brag about.
“All right, so each praline goes into this plastic cover, and then we wrap it with the red ribbon.”
I couldn’t believe it. Even the ribbons had to be hand-tied. For fuck’s sake.
“I always make a double knot,” she continued.
I laughed. “Want to make people work for it?”
“Sort of. I think if you do, it tastes even better, keeps it fresh longer. And you don’t run the risk of eating the whole box at once.”
That was good thinking. But also, it was very expensive for an employee to be wrapping these one by one when a machine could do hundreds in no time at all.
Of course, that would be if we were keeping the confectionery, which we weren’t.
“Now you do it,” she said.
I tried to follow her steps, but my ribbon looked decisively shittier than hers. “That looks amateurish. But with enough practice—”
“You’re going to make half the pralines look bad,” she finished for me.
“Something like that.” I didn’t like feeling inept or out of my league, but this was clearly not my strong suit.
“Why don’t you put all the pralines in their individual bags, and I’ll do the ribbons?”
“No, let’s do this. Tying the bows is the most time-consuming. Let’s practice a few more times. I’ll get the hang of it. I’m a quick learner, I promise.” I was not going to give up.
She looked at me dubiously, and I wanted to kiss that snarky smile off her mouth. I was used to people doing exactly what I wanted, when I wanted, without question. But having this sassy woman challenge me was a breath of fresh air that I didn’t seem to mind. And coming from Bailey, it was exactly what I needed.
“Sure. Let’s try again.”
I watched her do another one and then carefully replicated her moves. By the fourth one, they’d started to look decent.
“Will you look at that?” She leaned in so close that I could smell her perfume. “You really are a fast learner.”
“Have a little faith in me, will you, Bailey?” I teased.
She straightened up, the tip of her nose so close to me that I could barely keep myself from tilting in even more, closing the distance, and kissing her. Like it was beyond my control.
Pulling back, she said, “If you continue like this, I just might. I’ll keep a close eye on you, though, as I move about the kitchen, and if you fall too far behind, I’ll come over to help.”
I winked. “Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Do you mind if I leave the Christmas carols on?”
I looked into her eyes. “Bailey, this is your home. You can do whatever you want. Just act as if I’m not even here.”
“Ha, I can’t. If you weren’t here, I’d probably toss my bra.” She immediately pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide.
Fuck, I had to get that image out of my mind, but it was impossible. Her body had kept me up at night anyway. Bailey was petite, but she didn’t lack curves. Quite the opposite, actually.
And now I couldn’t help but imagine how she’d look without a bra on, how her nipples would poke through her shirt. I could feel my control slipping away.
Bailey jumped from her seat. “Um, okay, let’s get to work.”
“You really have your hands full during the Christmas season.”
She smiled. “Honestly, it’s not that bad. Back when I worked in software, every day was highly stressful.”
I stared at her. “Wait, what? You worked in software?”
“You should know that. I’m not even a pastry chef at all. Your grandmothers never told you?”
“No. I always assumed... Never mind.”
“I met Isabeau when I was on a burnout vacation from work. I wanted to occupy my time with something, so I took up making desserts and pralines. She convinced me to work at the confectionery.”
I was stunned. She’d actually chosen this life. I felt like an idiot. Why had I not even bothered to ask how she’d come to do this?
“Your financials must have taken a big hit.”
“Of course you’d go there.” She smiled, and I rightly felt chagrined. “Avery and I also have a side business. We teach people how to make sweets in an amateur online academy kind of thing. It’s been surprisingly profitable, even in the age of free videos on YouTube, so money is good. Although, probably in the long term, if the confectionery closes down, I’ll either have to look for something else in software or...” She shuddered. “You know what? Forget I even said that. It’s never going to be an option. My sister and I will expand our business.”
“This is completely unexpected,” I admitted.
“Why? Couldn’t you see me working in a corporate environment?”
“Honestly, no. I assumed this is what you’ve been doing forever.”
“No. Ever since I was small, I worked hard toward being a software developer. I was good at it. Somehow, I thought that if you’re good at something, you’re supposed to do that. But it ended up being a soul-consuming job. And now that I know the alternative, no way in hell would I go back to working in corporate. No offense.”
“I don’t feel insulted at all. This is very interesting.”
“I also took off because my father had been sick for a while, and I was literally working twelve hours a day from Monday to Friday. On weekends, I barely had time to do anything other than sleep, let alone help my parents.”
“Is he okay now?”
“Yes. He’s made a full recovery. But he couldn’t keep up with work, so he retired. Mom is still working.” She hesitated a moment, and I noticed her eyes were a little glassy. “So anyway, now you know why the confectionery is so important to me.”
I felt her words like a punch to the gut.
“But I didn’t want to make you feel even more guilty.” She winked at me. “So, let’s focus on the boxes.”
Fortunately, I was so bad at wrapping the pralines that I actually had to focus on it. It had the pleasant side effect of taking my mind off Bailey. And as the evening went on, I realized something else.
“Working with my hands is actually relaxing,” I told her after we’d sealed two boxes.
“I know, right? It’s partly why I love this so much. And I happen to think that some of that energy goes into the pralines.”
That was a little too woo-woo for me, but she was so adorable that I didn’t contradict her.
“Why did you put separate batches into the same boxes?” I asked her. “Did you intend to mix them up?”
“Yes. Each box has a different selection of pralines.”
“Huh. I didn’t even realize until now. They all look the same from the outside.”
“Yes, that’s the point.” She was sitting next to me again, and her face completely lit up. “That way, people will never know what they’re going to get. I mix and match all the boxes. No two are the same. It’s a mix of cherries and pears, mint and banana. I try to keep track of all the favorites. They keep changing, which makes this so much more fun. Never a dull Christmas season. Isabeau and Celine actually mentioned mint and banana. I made a batch for myself and loved it.”
Her entire body had transformed in the past few seconds. She seemed open and relaxed and simply happy right now. Part of me was starting to understand the appeal of doing everything by yourself—it kept you from getting bored.
It was midnight by the time we finished. I couldn’t believe that she’d wanted to do this all alone. She probably would’ve been here until at least three o’clock.
“Xander, thanks a lot for staying with me. You really didn’t have to.”
“My pleasure.”
Was it my imagination, or was she blushing? Was her mind going to the gutter as often as mine?
As she walked me to the door, she swayed a bit. Probably from exhaustion, if I had to guess.
“Can you take the day off tomorrow?” I asked her.
“Why would I do that after we managed to pack up everything?”
“You’re bone-tired, Bailey. You should rest.”
“I’ll rest after the season’s over.” She looked down at her feet. “Hopefully not permanently.”
“Bailey—”
She looked up. “I don’t want to start this conversation. You said we’re fine for this Christmas season, and I’ll focus on that. I will not have any Grinch energy in this house.”
I started to laugh. “Where exactly are you delivering all this tomorrow?”
“To your grandparents’ house, actually.”
“How come?”
“They take part in the open house tour on Christmas.”
“That’s true.” It was a big event in New Orleans.
“I’ve done the house tour, like, three times because it’s lovely. You were never there. I would’ve remembered.”
“Why? Because I’m such a Grinch?” I tilted my head. “Or have I impressed you in some way, Bailey? To make myself so memorable?”
Looking away, she licked her lips. “You LeBlancs are memorable,” she said far too quickly, which could mean that she was hiding something.
I wanted to outright ask what she meant, but I didn’t want to put her on the spot. Not right now. I’d have plenty of opportunities.
“I’ll be there this year,” I decided on the spot.
She whipped her head up to face me again, eyes wide. “Wh-Why?” she stammered.
“Because, as you correctly pointed out, I’ve missed it far too often. It’s a pity, don’t you think? Besides, I want to see how people react to the pralines after everything you’ve told me tonight.” And you’ll be there.
Her shoulders sagged a bit. “Oh, so that’s part of your observation strategy.”
“That’s right.” The truth was, I was simply longing to see her again, and this seemed like the perfect excuse. Being around Bailey and my family at the same time might be tricky—they were giving me enough grief about her as it was—but I could handle them.
“Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Xander.”
“See you then.”
After I stepped out of the house and she closed the door, I took in a deep breath. Mission accomplished. Unfortunately, I was more attracted to her now than before I’d stepped foot inside the house. I had no idea how, but this woman was growing on me despite her obsession with Christmas carols and good vibes.
I wanted to call Isabeau on the way to the car, then realized it was far too late, so I just went home instead. However, I called her first thing the next morning.
“Hey,” she greeted.
“Hi, Isabeau.”
“To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I always like to check in.”
“True, but you’re always busier this time of year finalizing books. Or at least that’s what you tell us.”
That earned her a chuckle. I adored my grandparents, and Isabeau might be my favorite.
“I have a surprise for you. I’m going to drop by the open house event this evening.”
“Goodness. Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am.” I could hear the joy in her voice, and I suddenly felt like I’d neglected my family. Was I focusing too much on work?
“Oh, wonderful! Is this Bailey’s doing? Did she convince you?”
That caught me off guard. “Why would you say that?”
“Because we’ve never been able to get you away from your office.”
I cleared my throat. “I want to see how people react to the pralines she’s bringing and so on.”
“Uh-huh. Is that so?” I could practically hear her smiling.
“By the way, I wanted to ask you for a favor.”
“Sure.”
“Could you make your famous jambalaya? I dropped by her place last night with some jambalaya, and it was nowhere near as good as yours.” I realized my mistake immediately, but there was no taking it back.
“Why exactly did you go to Bailey’s?” she asked in a stern tone.
I quickly explained about their production issues earlier in the day, skirting around the why I went there in the first place. Isabeau didn’t need to know that I wanted to get back in Bailey’s good graces. That would kick-start another round of questions altogether that I didn’t even have answers for.
“Of course I’ll make jambalaya.” Her tone was completely different now, softer. “What time are you stopping by?”
“I don’t even know. When does it start?”
“Oh, very early, about three o’clock.”
“Do people not work in this town?”
“Oh, Xander. Yes, they do. But this is... You know what? It doesn’t matter. Just come whenever you can.”
“When does Bailey usually arrive?”
“Five.”
“I’ll try to make it in time.”