Grateful Hearts (Home for the Holidays)

Chapter One

Chantel Navarro stepped out of the gym, feeling the chill of the early Boston morning settling into her skin. The crisp air was a welcome relief after her spin class, but a strange unease gnawed at her. It was nothing she could pinpoint, just an odd heaviness that clung to her like the fog rolling in over the harbor. She chalked the feeling up to the busy week she had ahead of her.

Being the Executive Chef of a five-star restaurant in Boston kept her busy all year round. Still, the holidays were even busier as they were one of the few restaurants open for Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was her responsibility to create a limited but new menu for each occasion.

Chantel was proud of the job she had done in the last three years, as the restaurant had an excellent reputation worldwide. It was hard work, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world. She loved being in the kitchen and creating new signature dishes.

All of the dishes served at the restaurant were her original recipes, which she kept guarded with her life. Even Mario, her boss and fiancé, didn’t have access to her recipes. Some of the recipes were passed down in her family, and she added a few secret ingredients to make them her own.

Her relationship with Mario was unique. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that she’d be engaged to her boss. Her late mother would always say to her, “Never shit where you eat.” Chantel had taken her words to heart until Mario swept her off her feet.

Having no family and working twenty-four-seven, she didn’t have much of a life outside of the restaurant. When Mario first asked her out on a date three years ago, she turned him down. But he was persistent, and slowly, he wore her down until she finally said yes. After a year of dating, he proposed, and she said yes. She just wasn’t in a rush to walk down the aisle, which is why they were still engaged and not married. She knew that Mario had hoped for a quick wedding, but she just wasn’t ready. So far, it had all worked out. They were both happy, and they kept their relationship private. While at the restaurant, she was just an employee.

She zipped up her warm-up jacket as she walked toward her apartment. As she walked, she thought about everything she needed to do. The most important thing was finalizing the Thanksgiving Day menu since it was only five days away.

As she ticked through her task list, she remembered that she needed to swing by Mario’s penthouse to pick up the bag that she had left there a few nights ago.

She looked at her watch. It was almost nine. Most likely, Mario would still be asleep since he was out late the previous night with an investor who was interested in partnering with him to expand the restaurant.

She decided to swing by his place and surprise him with breakfast in bed. He had given her a key to his place when they got engaged, trusting her with access to his space. That was the one thing she respected about Mario. He was a very private person.

When she got to his building, the doorman smiled and greeted her as he let her up. After she made it up to the twentieth floor, she unlocked the door quietly and stepped inside the luxurious penthouse. The scent of freshly laundered sheets and Mario’s cologne lingered in the air. It was familiar and comforting, yet today, there was a strange tension that made her pause. She spotted her bag sitting near the dining room table, right where she’d left it.

As she bent down to pick it up, the sound of a woman’s giggle stopped her cold. Chantel was frozen in place, her fingers tightened around the leather strap of her bag. Suddenly, a low moan followed the giggle, echoing from the direction of the master bedroom.

Chantel’s heart hammered in her chest as her mind began to spin. No, It can’t be. She thought to herself. She stood there, rooted to the spot, trying to convince herself that she was imagining things, that her mind was playing tricks on her. But deep down, she already knew what she was about to find.

The moans grew louder, more insistent, and then she heard Mario’s voice. “God, you feel so good. That’s it, Tatiana, ride me, baby.”

Chantel’s stomach churned, the ache spreading through her chest, making it hard to breathe.

She willed herself to move. Each step toward the bedroom felt like it was happening in slow motion. The closer she got, the louder the sounds became from both Mario and the woman. It all crashed over her like waves of dread.

When she reached the door, her hand trembled. For a moment, she stood there, hand on the doorknob, terrified to fling it open. She knew what she was going to see, but some part of her still clung to hope. Maybe it wasn’t what it seemed.

But then she heard Mario’s voice again, thick with lust, praising the woman in his bed. And something inside Chantel snapped.

Without another thought, she pushed the door open. It opened with such force it hit the wall with a loud bang.

There they were, Mario and some blonde with big boobs, tangled together in the sheets. The woman was on top of him. Her back was arched as her moans filled the room while Mario’s hands gripped her hips. His eyes were closed in pleasure.

The scene hit Chantel like a physical blow, the devastation in her chest nearly knocking her off her feet. Mario’s eyes snapped open when the door slammed into the wall. He froze and, in the same breath, pushed the woman off him like she was nothing more than a mistake he could easily discard.

“Oh Fuck! Chantel! This isn’t what it looks like—”

“Isn’t what it looks like?” Chantel’s voice was cold, foreign to her own ears. “What exactly is it then, Mario?” Her words cracked with the weight of betrayal, tears stinging her eyes.

The woman scrambled to cover herself with the sheets, her wide eyes darting between Chantel and Mario. Mario leaped out of the bed, grabbing a blanket to cover his naked self. He stumbled toward Chantel, his hands out as if that could somehow fix everything.

“I swear, Chantel, it didn’t mean anything.”

But Chantel wasn’t listening anymore. The sight of them together had shattered something deep within her. There was no coming back from this. She clutched her bag tighter, her body moving before her mind caught up. She turned on her heel, heading for the door, trying to escape the nightmare unfolding in front of her.

“Chantel, wait! Please!” Mario pleaded as he rushed after her. He grabbed her arm as she tried to leave. “Don’t go like this, we need to talk.”

His touch was too much. A white-hot fury rose up inside her, and before she could think, she turned and slapped him across the face with all the strength she had. The sharp crack echoed through the room.

Mario’s hand flew to his cheek, stunned, his eyes wide. “Chantel—”

“Fuck you!” She told him as she tore herself free from his grasp and ran out the door. She bolted down the hallway to the stairs, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to hold back her tears. Every step she took felt like it carried her further from the life she had thought was real. By the time she burst out onto the street, tears were streaming down her face. Her phone buzzed nonstop in her hand, Mario’s name lighting up the screen over and over. But she didn’t care. She ignored every call, every message.

Her mind spun as she sprinted toward her apartment, which was a little over a mile away. How could he do this to me? They’d been together for three years. She had loved him, trusted him. Hell, she had built her life around him. And now, in a blink of an eye, it was all gone. All because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.

When she finally reached her apartment, she slammed the door behind her and collapsed onto the floor. Her sobs came hard and fast, wracking her entire body as she buried her face in her hands. She cried for what felt like hours, the betrayal cutting deeper with every passing moment.

Eventually, when the tears had run dry, Chantel sat there, hollow and exhausted. She had no one to call. There were no friends outside of work. She had no family. All she had was Mario, and now, even that was gone.

Her mind searched for a solution, something—anything—that would get her out of this city, away from the wreckage of her life. She wiped her face as she picked herself up off the ground. She walked over to her couch and grabbed her laptop. After booting it up, she started searching for places to go. She needed space. She needed to disappear, at least for a while.

As she scrolled through potential destinations: Miami, Los Angeles, and New York, one finally caught her eye—Gatlinburg, Tennessee . She’d never been, but she’d always wanted to visit the mountains. It seemed like the perfect place to clear her head and figure out what to do next. Without a second thought, she looked at flights and found one that got her to Knoxville and left early the following day. Knoxville was close enough. She could rent a car and drive the rest of the way.

After booking her flight, rental car, and hotel, she closed her laptop. Her heart was hardened. Mario’s betrayal was unforgivable. There was no going back. Now, she needed to figure out how to move forward.

◆◆◆

Mario walked back toward his bedroom. He slumped against the bedroom door, his heart pounding in a way it hadn’t in years. Chantel’s expression, that split-second look of betrayal and heartbreak before she turned and bolted, was burned into his mind. He clenched his fists in frustration, muttering a curse under his breath. He’d screwed up badly.

And for what?

He glanced over his shoulder at the bed. The rumpled sheets told the story of the night before and this morning, but now it felt like a mistake written in bold letters. Tatiana, a long-time friend and business associate, had been his ticket to the expansion he’d been working toward for the last year. She was loaded, connected, and interested in more than just his restaurant. But last night, over too many cocktails and easy laughter, business had turned into something much messier.

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. It wasn’t like he’d been drunk or out of control. He knew exactly what he was doing when he invited her upstairs. Hell, he’d even justified it to himself. It was for the restaurant, for his future. But none of that mattered now. Not when Chantel had walked in and found them in bed together.

“Chantel…” he muttered, his voice breaking with regret.

When she slammed the door and ran, he wanted to chase her down, but with nothing but a thin blanket covering his naked body, he couldn’t exactly sprint after her. Not that it would’ve helped. Chantel had been faster, fueled by anger and heartbreak. And now she was gone.

Mario pushed off the door and stalked back toward the bed. Tatiana was already sitting on the edge, pulling her dress back on with trembling hands. She looked up at him, her expression a mix of guilt and worry.

“I… I didn’t mean for this to happen, Mario,” she said softly, her voice shaky. “I thought—”

He held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t. It’s not just on you. I knew better, and I let it happen anyway.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t even know what I was thinking.”

Tatiana stood, smoothing her dress as she stepped into her heels. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to cause problems for you and Chantel.”

Mario barked a bitter laugh. “Problems? This is way beyond ‘problems,’ Tati. You saw her face. She’s not going to forgive me for this.”

Tatiana bit her lip and glanced toward the door. “Maybe she will. She loves you, right?”

Mario didn’t answer immediately. He thought about Chantel—sweet, hardworking Chantel, who had poured her heart and soul into his restaurant. She was more than just his executive chef. She was the backbone of the entire operation. Her menus had put them on the map. Her passion had driven the staff to excellence. Without her, he wouldn’t be where he was today.

And now? He’d thrown it all away.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low. “She loves me. Or she did.”

Tatiana shifted uncomfortably. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think this is worth ruining things over. I mean, it was just one night.”

Mario shot her a sharp look. “It wasn’t just one night, Tatiana. She’s not just some girl I’m dating. She’s everything—my chef, my partner… she’s my future.” He exhaled sharply and shook his head. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

Tatiana grabbed her purse and hesitated in the doorway. “Well, I hope you figure it out. And for what it’s worth, the deal’s still on the table. I believe in your vision, Mario.”

Mario didn’t respond. He barely noticed when she left, closing the door quietly behind her. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone. Chantel was gone, but she hadn’t blocked him. Yet. That had to mean something, right?

He tapped her number, letting the phone ring. Once. Twice. Straight to voicemail. He cursed and tried again but got the same result. She wasn’t going to answer, and honestly, he didn’t blame her.

“Fine,” he muttered, tossing the phone onto the bed. He’d see her later that night.

She’d have to come back to the restaurant eventually. It wasn’t just her job. The restaurant was her life. She didn’t have anyone else, not really. No family. No close friends. Chantel’s world revolved around him and the restaurant, whether she wanted to admit it or not. She needed him, and she’d realize that soon enough.

And when she did, he’d be ready. Ready to apologize, to explain, to do whatever it took to make her stay because losing Chantel wasn’t an option.