CHAPTER FIVE
HOLLY
I change outfits at least a dozen times, which isn’t like me at all. But James coming to the shop and asking me to dinner rattled me.
Doing the walk of shame on Saturday morning out of the hotel to my car hurt.
James’ gentle but firm rejection cut me far deeper than it should have.
The entire drive home I’d held back tears and reminded myself how silly it was to have let myself get so caught up in a man that I didn’t even know.
I knew he was a doctor, his first name, and that he was an incredible lover.
Expecting him to be my happily ever after was completely unrealistic and unfair.
All very rational thoughts, yet they didn’t take away the ache. The connection I’d felt seemed mutual.
But I didn’t want to dwell on it. It did absolutely no good except to make me feel wretched.
So I showered and showed up at work on Saturday even though I wasn’t scheduled.
I threw myself into what I loved most. The quirky, the fun, and the adorable.
I utterly loved Christmas and everything that came with it.
There was no way I was going to let some man ruin my holiday, no matter how sexy he was, or how amazing his arms felt around me.
And that’s what I told myself every day and every time James crossed my mind. Maybe I wasn’t as carefree as before, and perhaps the ache in my chest caused my smile to wilt, but I pushed on.
Then the man had to show up in my shop- my space!- and completely undo all the effort I had made to forget about him.
Poof! Gone.
One look into his handsome face and those clear blue eyes and I was right back where I was when I woke up in his arms on Saturday. Happiness flooded me, and then, just as quickly, memory of the hurt he had caused swept through me.
Out of anything he could have said or asked, a second chance and a date never entered my head. He had already told me he wasn’t interested in a relationship, so why a date? Why was I setting myself up to be hurt again?
Except I knew exactly why. I grew up on fairy tales and far too many movies where love always won out and miracles were real. And I believed it would happen for me too.
Sure, I was thirty-one and unmarried, but that was simply because my prince hadn’t found me yet. Or, better yet, like an amazing alternative version of Cinderella, I hadn’t found him yet.
James didn’t need saving, and neither did I. I wanted a partner and a friend, not a rescue mission. I was a business owner, so I needed to start acting like one.
That pep talk behind me, I settle on a dress that isn’t too showy or too casual. It’s a deep green that does amazing things for my eyes and curves. I go with heels because I think my legs are one of my best features and I like to show them off.
I have far more Christmas earrings than there are days in December, so I enjoy changing them often to try to get them all worn during the month. Despite that I go with my favorites, crystal trees that sparkle and catch the light.
Merlin, my pure black cat, is on my bed watching me with his usual judgmental expression. His yellow eyes track my movements as I turn in front of the full-length mirror, checking the back view and making sure my butt still looks good in this dress since I haven’t worn it in a while.
“Don't look at me like that,” I tell him, grabbing a trusty lint brush. When you have pets, their fur tends to get everywhere, and with Merlin being black, it means his fur shows up well on everything.
My house is larger than a single woman needs, but I adored it the moment the realtor showed it to me.
It’s an old Victorian house, all original woodwork and creaky floors.
The steps worn smooth by decades of use and the walls are covered in old wallpaper with tiny flowers.
I’ve been here five years now, and I keep saying I’ll change the wallpaper, but something keeps holding me back. A sense of wrongness about changing it.
The day I moved in, Merlin showed up, so I became a pet owner the same day as a homeowner. What can I say? I’m a sucker for fate.
Satisfied I have most of Merlin’s fur off me, I lean over and give his head a kiss before grabbing my purse and heading downstairs.
The drive to Giovanni's takes fifteen minutes through light traffic. People make fun of Delaware, but it’s home and I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
It’s a small state that can be easily traveled in a few hours, and I love that I can be at a beach in forty-five minutes and my shop is right in the state capital.
Dover is beautiful this time of year, even more so tonight.
Christmas lights twinkle from every storefront, transforming the modest downtown into something magical.
The town square has a massive tree that I helped decorate as part of the local business association, thirty feet tall and covered in colored lights and handmade ornaments from local schoolchildren.
A light snow is falling, the flakes catching the light and sparkling like glitter.
I love this time of year. The magic, the hope, the sense that anything is possible. And tonight, sitting across from James, I want to believe that maybe, just maybe, his change of heart means something significant.
Being a Friday night, the small parking lot at Giovanni’s is full, but I luck out and squeeze my SUV into the only remaining spot next to a dark Mercedes.
Except I misjudge just how tight the spot is, and my door solidly whacks the passenger door of the Mercedes.
Cringing, I hold my breath and pull the door back, hoping it sounded worse than it is.
Nope. I’m not that lucky; the formerly black door now sports a blue ding compliments of my vehicle.
I debate on simply leaving a note, but the owner is probably inside the restaurant so it’s better to just get this over with.
Stepping into Giovanni’s, the warmth is welcomed, as are all the mouth-watering smells teasing my nose. I’m not one of those girls who order a salad on a date and I came hungry.
James is off to the side of the entrance, and his face immediately brightens when he sees me. My heart catches, and despite all my thoughts of not getting my hopes up too much, my hopes soar, and for the first time in days my smile is genuinely happy as I walk towards him.
He meets me halfway, and the way his eyes sparkle in appreciation as they move over me I know the green dress was the right choice.
“Holly, you look beautiful.”
Warmth fills my cheeks. “Thank you, you’re quite handsome yourself.
” And he is. He’s in dark pants with a matching blazer over a dark tan sweater with a collared shirt underneath.
He’s stylish and rather dashing. I’m used to men showing up in jeans and sweatshirts for dates.
Obviously, I’ve been dating the wrong types of men.
Except James is wrong for me too. I can’t let myself forget that unless he has a change of heart and is interested in dating and a relationship. I don’t date just for fun and sex. I do it with a goal in mind. Something I made clear in the shop and will need to do again tonight.
His smile widens. “Shall we?” he asks, placing a warm palm on my back to usher me toward the hostess who is waiting for us with a smile.
“Yes.” The answer is automatic, but I dig my heels in and turn to James. “But first, I need to find the owner of the car I accidentally dinged.”
I stride up to the hostess and explain that I need to speak to the owner of a black Mercedes.
“Did you get the license plate?” the woman asks in a perfectly even voice.
James comes up behind me. “Did you say a black Mercedes?”
I whirl around to face him. “Yes, I’m afraid the spots were a bit tight and my door hit their passenger door.” Turning back to the hostess. “Sorry, I didn’t get the plate. I can go do that.”
Before I can, James clears his throat. “Was it parked all the way in the back?”
“Yes.”
“Then getting the plate won’t be necessary.”
I let out a small laugh. “No, I’m not one of those people who would do that. I fully intend to find them and give them my information.”
“Ahhh... so this is how I get your number and address. If I had known that before, I would have already sacrificed my car’s paint job.”
His meaning dawns on the hostess first, and she politely turns away to hide her grin.
My jaw drops. “No! It’s not your car.”
James nods, his lips curling up slightly. “We can go outside to verify, but if it’s in the back, then it’s mine.”
I hold back a groan. “Guess this means dinner is off.”
His head rocks back as he laughs, and warmth blooms in my lower belly at the sound.
“No, you’re not getting out of this date that easily,” he says, his blue eyes intense. “I was afraid you were going to tell me no yesterday and I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.”
It’s like Christmas morning and my birthday all rolled together. “You were?” I breathe as a grin splits my face so wide you can probably see my back molars.
The hostess chooses that moment to remind us of her presence. “Were you still planning on dining tonight?”
“Yes,” James says immediately.
His confidence and smile say he thinks he won. But I feel like I’m the true winner here.