Chapter 64
KENT
The next morning, we signed all the paperwork in Harold’s or Brom’s office. Brom called it Harold’s office and Harold called it Brom’s. I didn’t give a shit who took ownership.
The legal documents I had drawn up were sitting on the desk.
I made sure we all protected our asses. I was the one who would lose big if this investment failed.
I watched her father sign the last document.
His careful signature made our partnership official.
I felt nothing but relief and anticipation.
There was a healthy dose of excitement, but I wasn’t going to pretend I wasn’t a little nervous.
Hell, a lot nervous.
But it was done. I had done something on my own. Just me. That’s what was making me anxious. Growing up in a big family provided insulation. I was never alone—ever.
But now, I was just out there flapping in the wind. If shit hit the fan, I was going to be alone to take the full hit. But the thought of sharing the rewards with Sylvie and her family quieted the fear of failure.
I knew it was only a matter of time before my father caught wind of this.
My lawyers would process the documents, file the necessary paperwork, and eventually someone would notice that Kent Bancroft had just committed a significant portion of his personal wealth to a small lodge in the Adirondacks without any involvement from Bancroft Industries.
Or when my dad called to get the update about the other offer, I either told him or ignored him. So far, I was doing the latter, but that would only last for so long.
When he learned what happened, Dad was going to lose his mind.
But for now, in this moment, I was content to focus on the fact that I’d just become a business partner with the woman I loved and the family who’d welcomed me in despite every reason they had to be suspicious.
Last night, I felt like one of them. I felt more seen by that handful of people than I had in my huge family.
“Congratulations,” Harold said, shaking my hand across his desk. “Welcome to the family business.”
The words were a stone-cold dose of reality. I’d been part of Bancroft Industries since I was old enough to understand what the company was, but I’d never felt like I truly belonged there. This felt different. This felt like choosing rather than inheriting.
After we finished with the paperwork, Sylvie and I headed into town to pick up some last-minute things for the big Christmas Eve party that night.
The lodge was already buzzing with preparation.
Stacy was busy coordinating with the kitchen staff, someone else was setting up the sound system, and Brom was pulling out extra chairs to accommodate the evening’s festivities.
Northwood looked like a Christmas card come to life, with snow covering the sidewalks and storefronts decorated in red and green. Every shop window seemed to twinkle with lights, and the whole town had the kind of festive energy that made you believe in magic.
We were walking out of the hardware store, my arms full of replacement light bulbs for some burnt-out strands in the tree farm display, when we spotted Phineas standing on the sidewalk across the street.
He was leaning heavily on his cane and shouting what sounded like creative insults at another elderly man, who was responding with equally colorful language and the occasional middle finger.
I smiled. I loved that the man had no fucks to give. He was who he was, and he couldn’t give a shit what anyone else thought. It wasn’t exactly a great way to be, but I certainly could relate.
Sylvie winced beside me. “Oh no. Not again.”
I wasn’t bothered by the old man’s antics. If anything, seeing him reminded me of that night at Murphy’s when he’d sat with me at the bar, letting me ramble about my complicated feelings while offering the kind of gruff wisdom that only came from decades of life experience.
I liked the old fart. He was cantankerous and would probably drive me crazy, but I was looking forward to sticking around and being friends with the dude. At the very least, he would be a good drinking buddy.
“Phineas!” I called out, crossing the street with Sylvie trailing behind me.
“Kent, what are you doing?” Sylvie groaned. “He’s going to be mean. He sucks the joy out of everything.”
I ignored her and kept going. “Phineas!”
The old man turned at the sound of his name, squinting at me with suspicious eyes until recognition dawned.
“Oh,” he said, his combative posture softening slightly. “It’s you.”
“Good to see you again,” I said, and meant it. “I wanted to thank you for sitting with me at the bar the other night. I needed a friend, and I was grateful for the company.”
Phineas just blinked at me, clearly taken aback by the genuine warmth in my voice. I got the impression that not many people thanked him for anything these days.
An idea struck me, the kind of impulse that I would have dismissed as impractical just a few weeks ago but now felt perfectly natural.
“Actually,” I continued, “I wanted to invite you to come to the lodge tonight. We’re having a Christmas Eve party. Great food, music, good company. I could pick you up around six if you’d like.”
Phineas’s expression shifted through several emotions, surprise, suspicion, and maybe longing, before settling into his familiar scowl.
“They don’t want an old scrooge at their party,” he said gruffly, already starting to shuffle away. “I’ll just ruin everyone’s good time.”
Sylvie stepped forward with a smile on her face. “We do want you there, Mr. Withers. You’re invited. Kent will be at your place at six o’clock.”
Phineas paused, looking between us like he was trying to figure out what our angle was.
“Wear one of your bowties,” Sylvie added with a smile that could have melted steel. “I know you have quite the collection.”
I saw something dance in the old man’s eyes then, a spark of something that looked almost like mischief. “Perhaps I will,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.
“I’ll see you soon,” I said.
As he shuffled away, I caught Sylvie watching me with an expression that was part admiration, part curiosity.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said, but she was smiling. “Just… that was really sweet of you.”
“He was kind to me when I needed it,” I said simply. “Everyone deserves to be included, especially at Christmas.”
Sylvie’s smile widened. She rose up on her toes to kiss me right there on the sidewalk in the middle of downtown Northwood. “I love you,” she murmured against my lips.
“I love you too,” I said, meaning it more than I’d ever meant anything in my life.
We continued our afternoon errands, but the simple tasks took twice as long as they should have because we kept getting distracted by each other.
In the craft store, while Sylvie picked out supplies for children’s activities, I found myself watching the way she considered each option with the kind of careful attention that suggested she was mentally picturing how every kid at the party would react.
And for some crazy reason, I immediately jumped to the idea of her picking out craft projects for our kids. I just knew she’d be one of those moms that spent the weekends making wild crafts with the kids. There wouldn’t be any screens. Just her and our babies.
“What about these?” she asked, holding up a package of foam snowflake stickers.
“Perfect,” I said, though I was more focused on the way the afternoon light from the store window highlighted the red in her hair.
In the grocery store, I was supposed to be helping her gather ingredients for some last-minute appetizers, but I kept finding excuses to touch her.
Brushing my hand against hers when we reached for the same item.
Placing my palm on the small of her back as we navigated the crowded aisles.
Stealing quick kisses when I thought no one was looking.
“You’re being very distracting,” Sylvie said as we waited in line to check out, but she was smiling as she said it.
“Good,” I murmured, leaning down to nuzzle her ear. “I like distracting you.”
She shivered and elbowed me playfully. “Behave. We’re in public.”
“Since when do you care about public displays of affection?” I asked, remembering the way she’d kissed me on the sidewalk just an hour earlier.
“Since you started looking at me like that,” she said, her cheeks flushing pink.
“Like what?”
“Like you want to forget all about Christmas Eve prep and drag me back to my apartment.”
The accuracy of her observation made me grin. “Is that really such a bad idea?”
“Yes,” she said firmly, though her eyes were dancing with mischief. “We have a party to host, remember? Plus, you have to pick up Mr. Withers at six.”
Right. The party. The dozens of guests who would be expecting a magical Christmas Eve celebration. The community that was counting on us to deliver the kind of evening that would create memories to last a lifetime.
But as we loaded our purchases into the car and headed back to the lodge, all I could think about was how surreal this all felt. I was planning Christmas parties and inviting lonely old men to dinner and thinking about how to make craft activities engaging for children.
The transformation should have felt jarring.
It should have made me question whether I was making the right choices.
Instead, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
It was like putting on a comfortable pair of shoes or a pair of jeans that fit just right.
This was exactly where I was supposed to be.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Sylvie said as we pulled into the lodge’s driveway.
“Just thinking about how much my life has changed,” I said honestly.
“Any regrets?”
I looked at her, really looked at her. There were a million thoughts running through my head, but none of them were telling me I was in deep shit. None of those thoughts were telling me I was in trouble.
“None,” I said. “Not a single one.”
I was certain I was in for what would undoubtedly be the best Christmas Eve of my life.
I realized that for the first time in thirty years, I was living exactly the way I wanted to be living.
Even if it meant my father was going to disown me when he found out what I had done, it was worth it.
Even if it meant walking away from everything I’d been raised to value, it was worth it.
Because Sylvie, her family, and this community gave me a sense of belonging and purpose that I had never felt before. That alone was worth any sacrifice I had to make.
Tonight was going to be perfect. And after Christmas, when the lawyers started calling and my father started demanding explanations, I would face whatever came next with the woman I loved by my side and the absolute certainty that I’d made the right choice.