Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Carrie sat in her empty shop, still stunned by yesterday’s success. She’d made her lease payment. She’d saved her business. The town had shown up for her.
And Tanner had left for LA that morning.
After helping her all day yesterday, he got a call from his agent. His meeting was moved up. Who scheduled meetings on Christmas Eve? Apparently, Crescent Gate Studios did. So Tanner was gone.
She tried not to think about him sitting at some gleaming conference table, signing a contract and moving on with his life.
Of course, he’d always planned to go home.
Her logical brain understood that. But her heart kept reminding her of how right it all felt.
They’d all worked together, not as Tanner the actor, but like a team—no, like friends.
Except her heart felt more than friendship.
Her phone buzzed.
Shannon: Turn on Channel 7. They’re replaying yesterday’s footage.
Carrie pulled up the local news on her phone. The station was doing a Christmas Eve special, showing heartwarming stories from the past year. Her shop was featured—footage from yesterday’s steady stream of customers and the three of them working together. The community came through for her.
After the Lamplight Books story, they did a follow-up on the charity event. The reporter had done a full investigation into the original scandal.
She’d found the original talk show footage—the unedited version where the actress had unleashed a string of vitriol at Tanner.
It was followed by Tanner’s response, which, although harsh and defensive, now made so much more sense.
The piece quoted sources who’d been present during the rehearsal and described Portia as a demanding narcissist.
Meanwhile, Portia was already backpedaling on social media, claiming it was all a misunderstanding. Her publicist issued a damage control statement. The internet, for once, had turned its attention to the right villain.
Tanner Blake was exonerated.
In the Crescent Gate Studios conference room, twenty-three floors above Los Angeles, Tanner sat across the table from Gregory Wallman, the man who’d discovered three of the last decade’s biggest stars.
He could make a career with a handshake.
The script in front of Tanner was good, and the role was even better—a complex character with real emotional range.
It could take his career to the next level.
“We want you,” Wallman said simply. “The role is yours if you want it. We start shooting in June, but we need a commitment today.” He smiled. “I know the timing isn’t ideal, but we’ve got a narrow window.”
Tanner’s agent, Laurence, sat beside him, practically vibrating with suppressed excitement. This was five years in the making. It would change everything.
“Can I have a moment?” Tanner asked.
He stepped out and leaned on the balcony railing. Los Angeles lay below him, a vast, glittering sprawl. Somewhere out there was his apartment, his recording studio, and his life—everything he had worked for.
His phone showed three missed calls from Sloane, two from his manager, and texts from friends congratulating him on the hospital video going viral in the right way. The scandal was over. His career was back on track. All he had to do was say yes.
He pulled up Carrie’s contact instead. No new messages. She would be at the bookshop, even though it was closed, probably ordering inventory to replace what had sold. The thought of the previous day made him smile.
The door opened behind him. Laurence.
“This is it, Tanner. This is what we’ve been working toward. That’s Gregory Wallman of Crescent Gate, man. Lightning doesn’t strike twice.”
“I know.”
He slapped Tanner’s back. “So come on.”
Tanner nodded and went back inside with Laurence. Wallman popped the cork on a bottle of champagne, and they all drank a toast to the project.
Carrie stood in her empty bookshop and looked out the falling snow.
Everything had worked out. She was keeping the shop.
Tanner was now in his meeting. Even if he didn’t get this job, she knew there would be others.
He was too talented not to succeed. It was Christmas Eve, and everything was as it should be. So why did her heart ache?
She went home, made some hot chocolate with whipped cream on top, and settled down by the fire with a book. “Merry Christmas, Carrie,” she whispered, and she began reading.
Eight hours later, the doorbell rang and startled her from her sleep. She picked up the book that had fallen to the floor, and then stood.
When she opened the door, there he was. Not Tom. Not Santa. Just Tanner Blake, the man who fixed her shelves and her wobbly chair, his jacket dusted with snow, holding two cups of hot chocolate.
“Hi,” he said. “Merry Christmas Eve.”
An unreasonable amount of joy bubbled up from her heart. “What are you doing here?”
“I got the job.” He set the cups on the counter.
Her joy fizzled as quickly as it had come, but she did her best to look happy. “Oh. Well, that’s great! Congratulations!”
Tanner nodded. “I sat in that meeting this morning—Christmas Eve, for God’s sake!
—in a room full of people talking about points and residuals and marketing strategies, and all I could think about was yesterday.
You, me, and Shannon, working together. The town showing up.
Mrs. Snyder buying seventeen cookbooks.” He moved closer.
“That was real, the sense of community, the people . . . more than real. It felt like home. And I thought about you. I love how you did what you set out to do.”
She smiled, but it felt hollow. Tanner’s support meant so much to her—maybe too much.
For, in spite of both of them having achieved what they’d hoped for, it meant that their moment together was over.
Seeing him this one last time made the pain of losing him harder to hide.
She looked at the fire, at the hot chocolate cups—anywhere but his eyes.
With one look, she knew she’d betray her true feelings.
“I didn’t take it.”
“What?” Carrie blinked and looked straight at him, unable to do anything but stare.
His eyes softened as he smiled. “I turned down the job.”
“But it’s everything you’ve been working for.”
“Yeah, it was. But it’s not what I want anymore.”
She could barely say, “Why?”
“I found something here that I didn’t know I’d longed for. You’ve built more than a bookstore. It means something to the people here. And you mean something to me.”
Carrie reached for the stool by the counter and sat before her knees gave out on her.
Tanner was here, which on its own was a bit overwhelming.
And he was saying things she didn’t dare believe could be true.
But what made her heart go weightless was the look in his eyes and the unsteady sound of his voice.
It was so unlike the sure, resonant sound she was used to hearing in his recordings.
“As I sat in that meeting, all I could think of, all I wanted, was here. I loved being a part of this life—of your life—not because you need me. You clearly don’t. But because I need you.”
The vulnerable look in his eyes nearly made her head swim. It was all Carrie could do to think, let alone speak. “But your career—”
“My career is fine. Better than fine, actually. The scandal’s blowing over, which means I can get back to work doing what I actually love—reading books.
I can narrate from anywhere, even a small town with one bookshop and a lamp in the window.
” He took her hands in his, stared at them for a moment, then looked into her eyes.
“If that bookshop’s owner wants me here, that is. ”
The air left her lungs.
He moved closer. “I want to be part of what you’re building here. I want to be part of your life, if you’ll have me.”
Say something. But she couldn’t. All she seemed able to do was gaze numbly. No words would come out.
Tanner went on in that voice that resounded deep down to her soul.
“I love how you’re able to find just the right book with a particular magic for each child or adult who walks into your shop.
And no one organizes sugar packets like you.
” He flashed that winning smile that always undid her.
“But I think it was when you stapled my shirt to the shelf that I knew this was going to be . . . something.”
“Once. I stapled you once.” Carrie felt her face flush.
“And I’ve been hooked ever since.” His thumb brushed her cheek. “So what do you say? Want a semi-famous voice actor who’s good with tools and makes questionable life choices?”
If she had any sense, she’d think this through and realize this could be just a phase.
He could come to his senses and go back to LA in a heartbeat, but her heart was beating too loudly to hear herself think.
A practical person would be able to see all the ways this could go wrong.
But practical was the last thing she was feeling at the moment.
Instead, she softly said words that were etched in her heart, “I have loved you ‘against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.’”
She’d barely finished when Tanner drew her into his arms and kissed her—not gently, not tentatively, but with everything he’d held back since he’d met her.
And she kissed him back and unleashed all the passion she’d hidden in her heart, tucked away just for him.
His hands combed into her hair, and her back pressed against the counter.
When they broke apart, she said while catching her breath, “So, you’re staying?”
He laughed. “I think that’s what I’ve been trying to say. Yes. Yes, I’m staying.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I want to fix your shelves. Read to the children at your next hospital fundraiser. Make you coffee every morning. Maybe change up the sugars just to keep you on your toes.”
“Oh, I’m on my toes. But we will need a Santa next year.”
“Sign me up.” He drew her close and kissed her again.
The doorbell rang. Carrie opened the door to find Shannon with a bottle of champagne and a plate of Christmas cookies.
“I thought you could use some Christmas Eve company, so I—” She glanced over and saw Tanner.
“Oh! Hi.” Her eyes went from Carrie to Tanner and back to Carrie again, as if she were watching a tennis match.
She then tiptoed to the nearest side table.
“So, I’ll just set these down here and be on my way.
Merry Christmas!” With a wave, she made a dash for the door.
Carrie caught her arm. “No, you’re staying.”
Shannon wrinkled her face. “Just for a minute.”
While Carrie went to the kitchen and got out three champagne flutes, Shannon plopped onto a stool. “So, guys, what’s going on? Anything new?” She glanced about expectantly.
True to her word, Shannon stayed a few minutes and then left for her family’s Christmas Eve gathering. Tanner built a fire, and they ordered a pizza and watched The Shop Around the Corner.
At midnight, the church bells rang and snow fell. Tanner pulled her to the window, and they watched it come down, turning Main Street into a sight of pristine snow-dusted magic.
“Jade was right,” he said. “Snow is more beautiful when you’ve been waiting for it.”
“Is that what we were doing? Waiting?”
“I think so. I think we’re all waiting until we find home.”
She leaned against him, his arms around her, and peace settled in her chest. Peace. Belonging. Home.
“Merry Christmas, Tanner.”
“Merry Christmas, Carrie.”
Outside, the snow kept falling, and the lamp in the bookshop stayed on, warm and bright. And somewhere in the pediatric wing of Hollydale Hospital, a little girl named Jade looked out her window and smiled at the snow.