Chapter 5
MAUVE
After they left the Christmas market, Jason drove them to dinner at Mia’s restaurant, La Danza.
They’d been there together last Christmas for the gala, where they’d had quite the dramatic evening.
But all had ended well, and now Reese and Roan were happily married.
That night, however, they’d all been scared to death when Roan didn’t show up on time.
Turns out the poor man had been walking through a snowstorm to show up for the woman he loved.
What would that feel like? To have someone love you so much they were willing to risk their life so they didn’t disappoint you? She might never know.
Jason held the door as they entered the main dining room of La Danza.
Warmth enveloped her, as did scents of garlic and herbs.
Mia’s traditional Italian menu was the finest Mauve had ever had, but she didn’t come in often, as it was pricey for just a weekly night out.
However, Jason had suggested dinner at the nicest place in town, so who was she to argue?
If Jason Hayes wanted to woo her for a month, she would let him.
If only he didn’t have to leave. She pushed that thought aside, determined to stay in the moment.
She would only have memories by the beginning of the year.
The hostess looked up from her stand to greet them.
“Mr. Hayes. Miss Callahan. Mia said to put you at six.”
Mauve smiled as they made their way to their table.
Christmas was alive and well here at La Danza.
Exposed beams overhead were wrapped in garland, and a large tree twinkled from one corner.
Candlelight flickered off the cream linens.
A string version of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” drifted from the speakers, soft enough that the murmur of conversation didn’t have to compete with it.
Table six was tucked near the window, half-screened by a potted evergreen strung with white lights. Jason pulled out her chair.
Once they were settled with menus, Mauve looked across the table at Jason. He looked handsome in a black sweater and a pair of dark denim jeans. He always looked handsome, but tonight he looked especially good.
“This is nice,” Mauve said. “Thank you.”
“It is.” Jason reached across the table and took Mauve’s hand, turning it over in his, tracing the line across her palm with his thumb, making her heart thump harder.
A server brought them each a glass of prosecco and small mushroom tarts. Mauve lifted her glass. “To day two.”
“Day two.”
Mia came out of the kitchen in her chef’s coat with her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and headed toward their table. “Welcome,” Mia said, smiling. “I was excited to see your names on the guest list tonight.”
“We’re excited to be here,” Mauve said.
“This time of year is hectic, but Christmas is such fun in Sugarville,” Mia said.
“We went out to the Christmas fair at Max’s store,” Jason said. “And worked up an appetite.”
“You’re in the right place,” Mia said. “Will I see you at the ugly sweater party?”
“We haven’t talked about it yet,” Jason said. “But I’m hoping Mauve will be my date.”
Mauve knew about the ugly sweater party from Reese.
It was a Hayes family tradition started by Max.
Everyone tried to outdo one another for the worst sweater.
She’d not been invited, obviously, as it was more of a family get together.
But she would love to attend with Jason, should he ask her, that is.
“May I suggest our fixed menu tonight?” Mia asked.
“Absolutely,” Mauve said. “I love surprises.”
“Excellent. I hope you’ll enjoy it,” Mia said. “I’ll see you both next week.”
They thanked her, and she left them to greet guests at other tables.
Jason gestured toward the tarts. “Would you like to try one?”
“Absolutely.” She popped the bite size appetizer into her mouth. The flaky crust melted on her tongue as the nutty flavor of the mushrooms tickled her tastebuds. “Oh my goodness, that is good.”
He ate his, murmuring his agreement, followed by a sip of the prosecco.
The primo course arrived, burrata with roasted grapes that went well with the rest of their prosecco. While they ate, they chatted about the plan for Ollie. Jason had already sent a text to his ASL coach in L.A. He hadn’t heard back from Mary yet, but he felt sure he would.
“Mary’s the best. Very patient, which was a blessing,” Jason said. “Did you have to take ASL for your studies?”
“Yes, it was required, but just the basics, I loved it though—had a knack for it, so I kept learning after school. I’ve not had many chances to use it because most of my patients have normal hearing.
But it’s been helpful with Ollie. His mother and father started with basic signs when he was a baby—before they knew about his CAS diagnosis. ”
“It must be hard for them,” Jason said.
“They’ll never give up on him, and neither will I.” She tilted her head, watching him, marveling at the generosity of a man who had no real ties with this family. He hadn’t needed to offer his help, but he did anyway. That was the man he was. “There’s something so sweet about Ollie. Like you.”
“Like me?” Jason’s eyebrows raised. “You think I’m sweet?”
“Aren’t you?”
“I have a reputation.”
“As a player? Right?” Mauve asked, keeping her tone light.
“It’s mostly just a reputation. But I’ve dated a few actresses and models. Nothing serious.”
“Why, do you think?”
This was a subject they’d not broached when they were in L.A. together, even though she was curious to know more than what she’d read in gossip rags.
Jason took another sip of his prosecco before answering. “I’m not the type to settle down.”
That hurt.
“Why?” Mauve asked.
“I’m sure you can guess the outcome of most marriages in Hollywood.”
“Yes, but is that all it is? You think a marriage would end in divorce? Just because of your profession?”
“Yes, that. There are other reasons too,” Jason said.
“Like what?”
“I was raised by a single mother. Our dad just took off, leaving her with twin boys. I saw how much she struggled, even though she never complained. I don’t want to do that to a woman or a child.”
“You think you’re like him?”
He shrugged, looking out the window. “Maybe. I’ve never wanted to risk hurting anyone, so I keep things casual.”
“Like us?” She swallowed the lump in her throat. This conversation was not supposed to be happening. They were supposed to be having fun.
He picked up his fork, then set it down again. “It’s what we agreed on.”
“Yes.”
“Are you having second thoughts?” Jason asked.
“Not about our agreement. But about what happens after.”
He sighed, reaching across the table for her hand.
“Being with you isn’t like anything I’ve ever felt before.
Yes, you’re fun, but, let’s face it, there’s more here between us.
At least it is for me. And, the truth is, we’ve been texting and talking a lot.
I don’t do that. Not with anyone else, past or present. ”
“Oh.”
“I’m not sure what to do about it, other than cherish every moment. I have to go. You want to stay. But the more time we spend together, the more awful it feels to think about letting you go.”
Before she could ask him anything further, their server brought the next course, a butternut squash agnolotti in brown butter and crispy sage, accompanied by warm focaccia and a glass of viognier. The stone fruit and honeyed notes of the wine played beautifully with the brown butter.
They ate for a few minutes in silence. As good as the meal was, she couldn’t fully appreciate it. The conversation had upset her and brought more questions than answers.
Jason set down his fork, looking at her. “I know you want to get married again. Have a baby. Or two.”
She nodded, avoiding his gaze. “Yes. That’s what I want.”
“Who do you imagine when you think about getting married again?”
She looked up. “He’s a man just like you. Only he lives in Sugarville Grove.”
“I’m not the guy you want, Mauve. It’s not just my profession. I don’t know the first thing about raising a family or being a father. I didn’t have a father to show me how to be one.”
“You had your uncle. Walter’s the best example of a great father I can think of.”
“It wasn’t the same. In fact, I felt jealous of my cousins.”
“I can understand that,” she said softly. “I had a father, but he wasn’t a role model. I certainly don’t want a man like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was cold. Distracted. Often irritated at my very existence.”
“Is that true? Or was he a man who couldn’t show his feelings? It’s not uncommon, you know.”
“It doesn’t matter if that’s the case or not. Whatever his reasons, he never made me feel safe or loved. He’s a man who should never have had a family.” She took a sip of her water, suddenly parched. “I can’t remember the last time I talked to him. And I have no desire to.”
“What about your mom? She sent you those ornaments. That says something.”
“It was unexpected, that’s for sure. But she was probably just cleaning out the attic and figured it was time to declutter.
Or whatever. My mother’s sweet, but completely cowed by him.
She’s always done exactly what he wants.
As far as I can tell, she’s never wanted anything for herself.
Or had a thought that wasn’t directed by him.
She votes like him. Thinks like him.” She wiped condensation from her water glass with her thumb.
“They say you marry your father, even if you don’t want to.
Even if you consciously try to avoid it, one day you wake up and realize you’ve done exactly that, in some kind of Shakespearean tragedy. ”
“Your ex-husband was like your father?”
“Oh, yes. I didn’t see it at first because he’s charming. Like a cobra, you know.”
“A cobra?”
“You know how they sway side to side, hypnotizing their prey before they strike.”