Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
T he following morning, Derek approached the catering table. Sophie was at the grill, frying up slabs of bacon that spat grease. Behind her, Randy was tearing up boxes, looking for more napkins. At first, Sophie didn't register that it was Derek there at the table; she assumed he was just another crew member, hungry for breakfast. But when she looked up, she stared directly into those big, dark eyes, and her heart dropped into her stomach.
Sophie nearly lost track of her tongs.
"Oh! Good morning."
Derek sniffed and set his hands on his hips. "I can't remember the last time I ate bacon. It was always one of my favorite foods."
Sophie felt a smile quiver over her lips. "Do you like it extra crispy?"
"Who doesn't?"
Sophie kept a few slabs of bacon on the griddle a bit longer than the others and then slid them onto a plate. Derek took it. "Thank you," he said softly.
Behind him, the cast and crew continued to set up for the day ahead, hurrying from one end of the set to the other, their eyes frantic. Sophie hadn't asked the sound guys which scene they were filming today. Was that a question she could ask Derek? Oh, but he didn't have time for her silly questions. He was the director. He had a thousand things to do.
But before she knew it, she heard herself say, "Which scene are you filming today?"
Instead of flying off the handle, Derek perked up. It was almost as though he enjoyed talking to her about this Christmas film he supposedly hated. Almost.
"We're still in the scene from yesterday," he said.
"Right. The one where Natalie's and Brent's characters take time to themselves," Sophie said.
"It's a classic rom-com situation," Derek explained, crunching through the bacon. "They carve out space for themselves because they don't want to get hurt. They choose loneliness over risk. At least, momentarily."
Sophie filled her lungs. Was it just her, or did his words feel especially heavy right now?
They didn't want to get hurt.
Just like Derek.
Just like me.
"I can relate to that," Sophie offered, then clamped her lips shut. Why am I telling Derek this?
"I think most humans can," Derek offered. "We've all had our hearts broken. We've all had to find a way to get through."
Sophie smiled. "My parents got married at eighteen after never dating anyone but each other. I imagine romantic 'heartbreak' is just a fantasy idea to them."
Derek laughed gently. "Lucky people."
Sophie waved her tongs nervously. A blush crawled up her neck and cheeks. "When I went through my breakup, they tried to say all the right things to pull me through. They tried to offer 'perspective.' But I could feel how inexperienced they were."
Derek's smile widened. Why was Sophie talking so quickly? She felt like she was babbling.
"Do you remember what they said?" Derek asked.
"They used a lot of clichés," Sophie offered thoughtfully. "It was like they'd googled 'how to help my adult daughter through a breakup' and parroted everything the articles told them to say."
Derek cackled louder than she'd expected. "I'm sorry," he said. Tears glinted in his eyes. "It's obvious they love you so much."
"They really do," Sophie said. "And I'm so lucky to have them. But ice cream and films did a whole lot more for me and my broken heart than their silly clichés."
"What kind of movies did you watch?" Derek asked.
Sophie didn't hesitate. "Christmas movies, mostly. My sister and I watched about a million of them while her babies slept in the next room."
Derek rubbed the back of his neck.
What was it about Christmas he hated so much? His wife, Georgia, literally wrote Silver Bells . Didn't they celebrate the holiday together? Or was Georgia forced to decorate and celebrate by herself?
It didn't make sense.
Soon after, Derek was needed elsewhere, and Sophie was cast into another day of frantic cooking and serving. It was a day punctuated with laughter, with funny stories from the sound guys, with Randy reminding her, anxiously, that the Christmas Festival meeting was coming up. "You know my mom's on the committee?" he said, tugging at his collar.
Sophie tightened her hands into fists. "Right. Okay. Let's make a list right now."
In the span of fifteen minutes, Randy and Sophie recited to each other everything they remembered about last year's Christmas Festival: what they'd bought and how much; which permits they still needed to file (quickly, as there was very little time); and how they could better market the event to maximize their catering profits. As usual, Sophie was surprised and pleased with Randy's business-minded sensibilities and his good memory.
When the list was finished—for now, at least—Randy breathed a sigh of relief and removed his catering hair net. "I feel so much better now that that list is written up," he said with a laugh. "I was worried the film would completely disrupt our flow."
Sophie squeezed his shoulder. "If we're going to be a real, prosperous catering company—a catering company in the black—we need to take as many jobs that come our way as possible. We need more weddings, birthday parties, retirement parties, and graduation parties. We need more films! We can't survive on the Christmas Festival alone."
Randy set his jaw. "You know, you should really let me in on more of that."
"More of what?" Sophie asked. Surprise made her cheeks warm.
From the set, they could hear Derek talking to Natalie about her motivations in this scene. "You love him, but you don't want to admit it to yourself. Right now, you're willing to live out the rest of your life pretending that you never loved him."
"That's insane to me," Natalie shot back. "Why would she torture herself like that?"
Randy cleared his throat and spoke quietly. "I know the catering company hasn't been super profitable lately. Especially this year. But you shouldn't have to carry it alone."
Sophie blinked at him.
"I know I never went to catering school, and I've never taken a college class. But I have a brain for this stuff." Randy puffed out his chest. "I'd love to be named your assistant or something like that. A second-in-command. Someone to help with the hard stuff. Someone to carry the stress."
Sophie's lips parted with surprise. It took everything within her not to throw herself forward and hug him in thanks.
"I don't know if I told you," Randy continued under his breath, "but Fiona and I started dating this summer, and I want to ask her to marry me by next year. I want to throw all my creative energy into Culinary Tastings and build a business that will last—a business that will support me and Fiona and our future children. You know?"
Fiona and Randy?
Sophie's eyes filled with tears. When she'd first started Culinary Tastings, it had been her pipe dream—her baby. When she'd first hired Randy—a twentysomething with a bartending license and a funny smile and sharp wit—she'd imagined he'd quit in a few months and do something else.
She hadn't imagined that he'd fall in love with the business just as much as she had.
She hadn't imagined he'd fall in love and want to marry another employee she'd hired herself.
She'd created an ecosystem of love and commitment.
That was the beautiful thing about working with people, Sophie decided. When you worked as a real team, your hearts so often beat as one.
"You can think about it," Randy assured her.
"I don't need to think about it," Sophie said. "I want you to be my second-in-command. We'll talk about your pay raise later this week, okay?"
"We don't need to worry about that yet." Randy's eyes glowed.
"We do. We can afford it. Between the film catering and the Christmas Festival, we're finally bringing in real capital. And heck. With you by my side, maybe I'll actually be able to enjoy the holiday season a bit more."
Randy clapped his hands together. "Let me put together the presentation for the Christmas Festival meeting."
Sophie's heart opened up. She'd been putting off the presentation for weeks and hadn't known when she would have time for it.
"I've already started it," Randy admitted sheepishly. "Fiona was sure you'd say yes if I asked you for a promotion."
Sophie grinned. "I really didn't know you and Fiona were together."
"We want to stay professional at work," he said.
"Mission accomplished."
Suddenly, Derek Brownlee called a break for lunch, and nearly a hundred crew members stormed the catering table and cast Sophie and Randy to separate corners. Sophie floated through her responsibilities, chatting with the sound guys and Natalie and Brent, throwing sauces on bowls of pasta, and grating parmesan cheese.
"You look happy," Natalie pointed out as she stabbed her tortellini with a fork.
Sophie laughed. "I just promoted Randy," she said, gesturing to the happy blond twentysomething at the opposite end of the catering table. "He just took a load of stress off my shoulders."
Natalie's eyes flashed. "He's so cute, isn't he? He should put together a portfolio and head out to LA!"
"To act?" Sophie asked.
Randy overheard them and laughed. "I could never do what you do, Natalie."
"Come on. I saw you bartending at the Christmas party," Natalie shot back. "What is bartending if not acting? You have a knack for it!"
Randy continued to laugh. "I'm a small-town guy with a small-town lady," he said. "I don't want anything else."
Suddenly, Sophie realized Derek was at the table, listening to their conversation. Natalie gave Derek a soft smile, one that indicated things had been kinder and looser on set ever since Derek's "breakdown."
"What do you think, Mr. Director?" Natalie asked. "You think Randy has a chance in Hollywood?"
"I think Hollywood is a cesspool," Derek said, although his tone was light and cheerful.
"You know what Hollywood doesn't have?" Randy continued. "It doesn't have a Christmas Festival."
Natalie perked up. "I heard something about that!"
"We're catering," Randy said, waving his spoon between himself and Sophie. "But Sophie's been involved in planning the festival for years."
Sophie's cheeks burned as she piled a bowl higher and higher with pasta. Was this bowl for Derek? Was that why she was making it so much bigger than the others? And why was Derek looking at her like that? Why did it make her feel so nervous and shivery?
"It's my favorite day of the year," Sophie admitted once she realized everyone was looking at her. "The entire town comes together to sing carols and eat delicious food and play games and drink mulled wine. It's a dream."
Sophie thrust the bowl of pasta across the table and into Derek's hands. She then grated parmesan over the top, praying he couldn't see her shaking.
"You should come if you want to," Sophie continued to blabber. "It's small-town charm at its most charming. And like Randy said, we have a lot of ideas for catering. The food will be sensational."
"We won't disappoint!" Randy called.
"I'd love to come," Natalie said, beaming. She turned as Brent approached to announce, "Guess what, baby? We're going to the Willow Creek Christmas Festival!"
But Derek looked gray-faced and unsure. He stabbed his over-parmesan-ed pasta.
Sophie couldn't breathe.
"It's in a week and a half," Sophie said. "Next Saturday from noon to nine p.m. If you're walking through downtown, you can't miss it."
Derek's eyes were no longer as warm and inviting as they'd been that morning.
It felt as though the "new," nicer, kinder, more handsome Derek had suddenly disappeared.
Where did you go? Sophie wanted to demand.
"I can't make it," Derek said. His voice was cold. Suddenly, he twisted around, calling out to the assistant director as he maneuvered through cameras and equipment. "Let's meet in my trailer. I have a few notes on scene forty-five."
The assistant director rerouted to follow him. Sophie watched forlornly as the two men slipped into the trailer and sealed the door behind them.
"What a Grinch," Natalie quipped, squeezing Brent's arm. "I can't believe you invited him, Sophie. You know how he is."
"That's the whole point of Sophie," Randy quipped. "She always sees the best in people. She doesn't quit on them. No matter how many times they disappoint her. No matter how much they hate the spirit of Christmas."
Natalie laughed. "In Hollywood, we call that the definition of insanity. Trying and trying and trying again, despite the outcomes."
Sophie wanted to say, In Willow Creek, we call that compassion.
But she was suddenly too tired and sorrowful to do anything else but spoon more pasta into bowls and smile hello at the rest of the cast and crew.
There were another seven hours to the workday. She had to find the energy to get through.
Maybe Derek will never talk to me again.
Isn't that what I want?