Chapter 50
LEO
“Friends. Countrymen. I want to thank you all for joining me today as we dedicate this spot to a new chapter in Lynorian history.”
Leo stood on a small platform in front of the vacant lot that would now—officially—become the site of the project of his dreams. He was joined by Kat and Pierre, the general contractor.
A crowd surrounded them, far more people than he expected.
It was over-the-top—the queen had insisted on providing a golden shovel—but for once, Leo didn’t mind all the pomp and circumstance.
This wasn’t a new storefront for luxury handbags.
And it certainly wasn’t another ski resort that no one needed.
It was going to be a cornerstone of their community, a safe haven in more ways than the public even realized.
How he wished Emma could see it. Over the last several days, an elaborate plan had begun to hatch.
“It’s something that will uplift us and bring us together in new ways,” he said.
“The garden will grow food for the people in town and teach our children about agriculture. The library will educate our children, help our adults, and open doors to other worlds for people who just need to escape for a little while. The new soup kitchen will feed and shelter our hungry. All of this is only possible because you stood with me. You made your voices heard. I hope that you always do. Because together, as your new minister for charitable giving—or whatever my new title is”—a chuckle rippled through the crowd—“we can do some amazing things.”
He scanned the audience. “I’m going to be setting up a website where you can leave suggestions for services or amenities you’d like to see in your community.
I’m also going to be visiting each province this year to host some town hall meetings and see what matters most to you all.
Thank you so much for your time and for your belief in this project.
Now go spend the holidays with your families. ”
He put the microphone down, and the crowd whistled and cheered.
Together with Kat and Pierre, he dug the golden shovel into the partially frozen earth and broke the ground.
This was the moment he had been working toward for months.
It was amazing—the culmination of a dream he had fought for with everything he had—but it didn’t mean as much without Emma at his side.
When would he see her again? He was still onboarding as a new member of parliament. He didn’t even have an office yet, let alone a staff. It would be difficult to get away to New York with everything so in flux. Would serving his country always mean such deeply personal sacrifice?
He tried to dismiss the thoughts as he shook hands and took pictures with a number of people in the crowd, but his heart wasn’t in it.
He missed waking up and watching as she smiled and rolled away from him, hair tousled from a night of lovemaking. They had known each other for so short a time, but there was no denying the staggering depths of his feelings for her.
From the moment the project received the green light, he had been working on a new plan.
There was no guarantee it would convince her, and he wasn’t certain that he was understanding succession rights for rent-controlled apartments correctly.
Why would Emma compromise her carefully curated goals to move here for six months out of the year?
But he had to try. As soon as he got his first paycheck from parliament, he was going to buy her a plane ticket and make his plea.
He shook the last hand and said goodbye to Kat and Pierre, who were examining the lot.
He was almost back to his truck when he noticed someone was leaning against it.
His hackles went up for an instant, anticipating the press wanting a comment on his personal life.
But he broke into a smile when he recognized who stood there.
Emma.
“What are you doing here?” he gathered her into his arms and squeezed her tightly, lifting her into the air.
“I wanted to see the groundbreaking. You were amazing,” she said into his lapel, slightly muffled by the fabric.
He pulled back just to look at her again. It was really her. The glow of the white Christmas lights strung above brought out the spun gold in her hair. She must have been exhausted, but she was unbelievably lovely.
Finally, finally, everything was perfect. Well, almost.
“I can’t believe you came,” he said. “You didn’t have to do that. But I’m so glad you’re here. I—I wanted to show you something.”
The nerves had reemerged. It was now or never.
“Can we talk first?” she asked.
He froze. Did she come all this way to break up with him face to face? On Christmas Eve? The thought was unbearable. All of this would mean nothing without her. If it hadn’t been for her and Lola, this project never would have gotten off the ground.
“Of course.”
They set off toward the village green. Snow drifted down, big fat flakes that dusted her jacket and caught in her hair.
House windows glowed with happy families crowded around fireplaces and sharing meals.
A group was caroling down the street. It was the perfect Christmas Eve, if someone liked that sort of thing.
The silence was killing him.
“Did you want to go to my apartment to warm up and chat?”
“No, my mom’s there and I don’t really want to say this in front of her. I hope you don’t mind that I used your spare key.”
“Of course not.” His heart rate inched up another notch. The unknown was killing him.
They stopped in the center of town, under a crisscross of brilliantly colored lights. The lone traffic light shifted to red, policing vehicles that weren’t there.
Emma turned to him and took both of his hands. She was really here. No matter what she had to say, he was so happy to see her.
“This is going to sound insane,” she began. She averted her gaze, glancing over her shoulder at the merry carolers, who had switched to “Silent Night.”
“Go on,” he said.
She turned back to him. “I’m in love with you.”
A thousand feelings hit him at the same time—joy, disbelief, a soaring sensation like he had just been catapulted into the air.
He opened his mouth to speak, to stutter, to scream that he loved her too. But she stopped him.
“I know it’s only been a month. But that doesn’t make it less true.
You’ve unlocked something in me that I didn’t know was there.
I was in New York, trying to put this plan that I’ve been working toward for a decade into action.
But it didn’t feel right. None of it felt right.
And it’s because of you. You broke me,” she said with an accusatory finger.
He raised his eyebrows.
“I don’t even know if I want to bake anymore. I want to do more, be more. Help people. Find a way to make a difference in this world the way you do. But I don’t know how to do that. I still need to take care of my mom, and I can’t just pick up and—”
Leo dragged her close and kissed her hard. She melted into him, gripping his shoulders as their tongues danced.
He pulled back and looked into the brilliant green of her eyes.
“First, let me say I love you. I think I’ve known it since the second you walked into that pole.
You are so talented, thoughtful, stunningly beautiful, and you bring peace in a way I’ve only felt when I’m in my workshop with a crackling fire and a mug of spiced wine.
Second, I would never ask you to give up your home, your dreams, anything for me. ”
“Then how do we make this work? I can’t handle not knowing when I’m going to see you again. I want you for every holiday, every Tuesday, every wing night at Sal’s bar.” She waved a hand down the street.
He broke into a smile. “Come with me.”
They came to a stop in front of the soup kitchen. Smells of roast turkey and herby mashed potatoes were drifting out, warming the street.
“Actually, can you close your eyes for a second?” he asked.
“Okay,” she said with a hesitant smile.
He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a sheet of paper. He scribbled something on it and plastered it to the window with a piece of tape. He had hoped for a much grander and more concrete display, but hopefully it would still get his point across.
“Okay, open.”
She opened her eyes and looked around, then looked at him. He pointed to the sheet of paper.
“Petal and Pastry?” she asked. “What’s this?”
“When the new community center is built, the soup kitchen’s going to move over there,” he said. “Which will leave this building vacant.”
“Okay,” she said slowly.
“I know your apartment is rent-controlled, and that it’s an invaluable commodity in today’s day and age.”
She nodded, and he continued. “I did some digging into succession laws, and there are some exemptions for the residency requirements. For example, there’s some flexibility if you’re required to leave the home temporarily for employment purposes.”
She tilted her head.
He took her hand. “What if you lived here for a few months out of the year? Maybe in the spring or summer? I can keep you safe from your dad. Felons aren’t even allowed into the country, in the unlikely event that he cobbled together enough brain cells to apply for a passport.”
She bit her lip, but he plowed on. “We can create a seasonal position for your mom to be in charge of the community garden, and we could contract you to bake for the community kitchen. Your noncompete shouldn’t apply across international lines.
You could have this space, and your mom could sell the flowers she grows in the garden, and you can still make your beautiful cakes.
If you apply for dual citizenship, you and your mom will both be eligible for free national healthcare, and I’ll use every last connection I have to find her the finest physical therapist in this country.
And I know it’ll be tricky to find a place to bake in New York, but I asked my mother, and it turns out we actually have a Lynorian consulate in Queens with a fully equipped kitchen, so the next time Lady Gaga needs—why are you crying? ”
A tear streaked down her face, and he caught it with his thumb. Shit. He knew it was too much. Only an unbalanced person would plan an entire life out for someone else without even consulting them first.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just didn’t expect this. No one’s ever done something like this for me.”
He took her hand again. “I think you haven’t had anyone to take care of you in a really long time. But you don’t have to do this alone anymore. This is a partnership, Emma. You’ve helped me so much. Let me return the favor.”
“What about my mom? And the dogs? We’re a package deal.”
Leo smiled. “Someday, hopefully, your family will be my family. Your traditions will be my traditions.”
A blush crept into her cheeks.
“We’ll get a wheelchair-accessible caravan.
She can come with us on our tour of the provinces.
We’ll decorate the hell out of wherever we live every Christmas with animal butt ornaments or—what did you say you do again?
I’ll have to work on finding a home with an in-law suite,” he muttered to himself.
Another item for the to-do list. “Not that I expect you to move in with me. We’ll find a place for you and your mom while you’re here. ”
“And what about your family? They still hate me,” she said.
Leo shook his head. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.
I’ve already set very clear boundaries with my mother, and I’ve insisted she start attending therapy.
She knows that the second we hear one snide comment, she’s out of our lives.
I won’t allow her to control this. And I mean that.
I will protect you—emotionally, physically, mentally. With everything I have.”
“I see. And what do I bring to this elaborate table you’ve set?”
“Love. And patience. That’s the only thing I’ll ask of you. And, you know, if you wanted to throw in some cheesecakes.”
She laughed, and her eyes sparkled.
“I know there’s a lot to consider,” he said. “You don’t have to make a decision now. I just want a life with you, Emma. Whatever that looks like. I need you to know that loving me doesn’t have to mean giving up who you are. But it might mean a compromise.”
She was smiling. “You’re worth compromising for.”
She jumped into his arms, and he twirled her beneath the dizzying array of Christmas lights.
They kissed again in the falling snow, surrounded by the delicate melody of “Silent Night” from the carolers down the road.
It was their first Christmas Eve of hopefully dozens together.
Maybe the holiday wasn’t so bad after all.