Santa Maybe (The Duchess Hotel #1)

Chapter 23

Twenty-Three

As Rosie’s ride pulled away, Drew felt like he’d been gut punched. Had he been a fool to be so honest with her? She’d had a lot to drink, so she wasn’t entirely clearheaded. Plus, they were at a wedding, which put most people in a romantic frame of mind. He could have suggested they talk about it later, when they were both sober.

Instead, he’d been painfully honest, admitting he couldn’t give her what she wanted. No matter how much he cared for her, he couldn’t open himself up completely.

In all fairness, he’d never misled her. Right from the start, he’d told her he couldn’t give her more. He’d never lied to her or strung her along.

So why did he feel like a selfish asshole?

He made his way back into the ballroom, no longer willing to spend another minute at this wedding. He doubted anyone would care if he left, given that the evening was winding to a close. Though his table still bore signs of life—purses and jackets strung over chairs—everyone had migrated to the dance floor. Good. This way, he wouldn’t have to explain why he was leaving without Rosie.

As he was heading out, he passed the table where Evelyn’s parents sat. She stood beside it, chatting with them. He wanted to brush past them, but his good manners kicked in.

“Evelyn, thanks so much for inviting me, but I’m going to take off,” he said. “It was a lovely reception.”

She frowned and motioned him to the side, a few steps away from her parents. “Where did Rosie go?”

“She wasn’t feeling well, so she left a few minutes ago.”

“You didn’t go with her? That’s not very chivalrous.”

Shame curdled in his stomach. He’d never intended to hurt Rosie, but he’d made her so upset that she’d fled the wedding without him. Not that he’d admit it to Evelyn. “It’s what she wanted.”

His defense sounded weak, like he didn’t give a shit. Which was the exact opposite of how he felt.

Evelyn regarded him with pity. “Oh, Drew. She found out the truth, didn’t she?”

“What truth?” As her parents turned to look at them, he lowered his voice. “What are you talking about?”

She blew out a huffy breath. “That you aren’t capable of real emotional commitment. The last time I saw her at the gym, I almost warned her about you, but I assumed she wouldn’t listen.”

What the hell? He kept his voice a soft hiss, aware her parents were watching them. “That’s bullshit. I was committed to you. I cared about us. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m not the one who cheated.”

“But you never trusted me enough to give me your whole heart.” She shrugged. “Not that it matters anymore. When I went back to Jared, he was more than willing to be open and vulnerable with me. To admit that he loved me, even when he wasn’t sure I’d reciprocate his feelings. If you can’t give Rosie the love and affection she needs, then she deserves better.”

He wanted to snap at her, but what kind of a jerk would he be if he yelled at the bride? Instead, he pasted on a false smile. “I guess so. Like I said, I’m gonna take off. Have a great Christmas.”

“Oh, I will, you can count on it.”

Still holding his anger in check, he left, stalking out into the cold night air.

He didn’t want to think about Christmas. For the first time in years, he’d been looking forward to it, eager to experience one of Rosie’s favorite holiday traditions. Now, he wouldn’t get to enjoy that, either.

As he pulled up his phone to order a ride, he saw a text from Rosie, sent a few minutes ago.

Rosie: Arrived home safely. Good night.

Drew: Thanks for checking in. And for being my plus-one. Good night.

He stared at the screen, wrestling with the desire to say more. If he apologized again, would she let him come over to her apartment? He hated ending things this way.

But as much as it pained him to admit it, Evelyn was right. If he couldn’t give Rosie what she needed, then she was better off finding someone who could.

* * *

When Rosie woke on Sunday morning, she could barely drag her body out of bed. Her head was pounding, her stomach roiling, her eyes swollen from crying. She picked up her phone, praying she’d see a brand-new message from Drew, declaring his love.

Nope.

As she got to her feet, the abrupt movement made her queasy. She rushed to the bathroom and dry heaved. After swallowing down two ibuprofen tablets with a glass of water, she glanced at her reflection. A total nightmare. Messy hair, smeared makeup, dark bags under her eyes.

How the hell was she supposed to pull herself together? She needed to be at work in less than three hours.

True, it was Sunday, but Preston had asked her to come in at noon.

When her phone pinged, she lunged for it, hoping Drew was reaching out to her. Instead, Charlie had messaged her.

Charlie: How’d the wedding go?

Rosie: Not good. Drew and I broke up.

As soon as she sent the message, she felt stupid. How could they break up if they hadn’t been dating for real? But her friend understood completely.

Charlie: Oh no! I’ll be there in a half hour with coffee. We can talk then.

Rosie: Thanks! You’re a lifesaver.

She set down her phone, made her way to the shower, and cranked it to the hottest setting possible, standing under it until the spray turned cold. Once she was done, she put on a faded Canucks jersey and sweatpants and twisted her wet hair into a topknot. At least now she didn’t feel so grungy, but she dreaded the thought of changing into her work clothes.

When a knock came at the door, she opened it and waved Charlie inside. Her friend bustled in, setting two coffees and a paper bag on the kitchen table. She pulled Rosie into a hug and held on tightly.

Rosie had thought she was done crying, but a few sobs eked out. “I’m such an idiot. I ruined everything.”

Charlie gave her a squeeze and then let her go. “Before we talk, you need coffee. I got you a latte and an egg sandwich. Do you want the one with bacon or sausage?”

“Bacon, please.” Rosie settled herself at the kitchen table and sipped her latte gratefully, perking up as the caffeine worked its magic.

Charlie sat across from her but waited a few minutes before speaking up. “What happened at the wedding? Did Drew do something wrong? Was he still pining for Evelyn?”

“Not in the slightest. He was completely focused on me. It was a wonderful feeling.” Rosie clasped her hands over her heart. “He looked so good in a suit and tie. And get this—the reception was at the Grand Duke.”

“No way!” Charlie laughed. “He never told you?”

“He was worried I’d be annoyed. But I loved waltzing in there as a guest and taking advantage of that sweet open bar.” She groaned. “Though I probably enjoyed it more than I should have. If I hadn’t indulged in so many cocktails, I wouldn’t have lost control.”

“What did you do?” Charlie unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite.

“When Drew and I were dancing, I couldn’t hide my feelings any longer. I told him I was in love with him.”

Charlie nodded sagely. “That’s the wedding effect. All that love and romance in the air is hard to resist.” She took another bite of her sandwich. “Got any mayo? This is a little dry.”

“In the fridge. Can you grab me the hot sauce while you’re at it?” Though Rosie’s sandwich was a scrumptious mix of egg, cheddar cheese, and bacon, it needed a kick.

Charlie set the condiments on the table. “So, when you offered up your big confession, how did Drew react?”

“Not well.” Rosie cringed as she recalled the scene. “To be honest, I didn’t expect him to say it back. We haven’t been together that long. But I was hoping he’d be open to the possibility of love. Like he’d be happy I felt this way or…be willing to take a chance on something real. But he just looked stunned. Then he apologized for not being able to give me what I wanted.”

“Sorry. That sucks. It’s obvious he cares about you, but he must not be ready to take that step. Could you just be friends?”

“Maybe. But not right now. It’s too raw.” Rosie doused more hot sauce on her sandwich. “I wish I could spend today being completely selfish. All I want to do is lounge on the couch, watch TV, and eat junk food. But I have to be at work in a few hours.”’

“Today? But it’s Sunday, and you worked until four yesterday. In fact, you’ve gone in every day this week. I think you should take a sick day.”

“I’m not sick. Just miserable.”

Charlie crumpled up her sandwich wrapper and tossed it in the garbage. “Then consider it a mental health day. Seriously. You’re working on Christmas Day and Boxing Day, right?”

“But I’m taking off Christmas Eve to be with my family.”

“Big whoop. One whole day. You’re entitled to take a rest day just for yourself.”

“If I don’t go in to the hotel, then I should head over to my parents’ place. My mom always prepares her tamales for Nochebuena on the twenty-third. Usually Isabella and I help her out, but I told her I had to work.” Guilt swamped over Rosie, adding to her misery. “I don’t know if I can handle my family just yet. Christmas Eve’s going to be bad enough.”

“Then don’t tell her you’re staying in bed. For once, put yourself first. You’ve been through a lot, and you need time to recover.”

Rosie was about to argue but stopped herself. Considering how wretched she felt, she wouldn’t be at her best—not at work or around her family. “Okay. Thanks. I’m going to text Preston and let him know. I wish I didn’t feel so guilty about taking a day off.”

Charlie brightened. “I know what you can do. What about all those gift bags you bought for the hotel employees. Did you assemble them yet?”

Rosie plunked her head onto the table and groaned. “No. I have everything ready, but I forgot to put them together.”

Earlier in the month, when she’d told Preston about the tradition of giving out gift bags to the staff, he’d asked her to handle it. She’d done her best, making sure each bag contained a Visa gift card, chocolates, a drink tumbler, and a handwritten note expressing her appreciation.

“Don’t worry about it,” Charlie said. “I can stay here and help. Since you’re probably not in the mood for Christmas fare, we could watch something with lots of explosions and car chases.”

“You’d do that for me?” Rosie’s eyes clouded with another round of tears. “I know how much you hate action movies.”

“For today, I’ll put up with them. Just nothing with creepy aliens. If you need me to do a Tim Hortons run, I could do that, too. Or we can order pizza later. Whatever you need.”

“How about a James Bond movie? Or one of the Mission Impossible flicks?”

“Door number two, please. I’ll watch Tom Cruise in anything.” Charlie stood up. “Come on. Let’s go grab all the gift stuff, and then we can get cozy on the couch.”

“Thanks.” While her offer didn’t ease Rosie’s heartache completely, at least she wouldn’t be alone. But the next few days were going to be rough.