The Christmas Crush

Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“To keep a long story short, hands down the best date of my life.” Saying those words felt daring. A big admission, but one she couldn’t hold inside. Not here in her own apartment with Priya. Besides, how dangerous could it be to admit she’d enjoyed herself? “We’ve been texting too. I can’t tell you how relieved I am he’s not one of those guys who blows you off after a date, acts like he forgot you existed for a week, then slides into your DMs at two AM on a Sunday. You know the type.

“Anyway, Lawrence has this cookie recipe he’s working on for a big competition, and he’s been asking my opinions on it. He’s coming here tomorrow night to bake a practice batch with me. I’ve been telling him a bit about how toxic things are at work, and he said baking helps him unwind and maybe it will help me too. This is all to say, I don’t think he was too bothered by me backing off while we were—”

Priya put up a hand to silence Elena. “Nothing about this story has been short. I am very happy for you; no one deserves it more. But wasn’t the whole plan to have a hot hookup and move on?”

Without warning, Elena’s thoughts flashed back to the rioting emotions and desires that had swelled up in her as they kissed. “I can still do that.”

“Yeah, right. You don’t even sound like you believe yourself anymore. I’m not sure I ever believed you. Listen, are we going to work on our r é sum é s or not? I skipped the gym for this.”

“You skipped the gym because I have queso.”

“Fair.” Priya dipped a blue corn chip into the bowl of spicy cheese on the coffee table. She looked adorable and workout ready in a sage-green leggings and crop top set, her hair in a perky high ponytail.

“My bad for gushing. Let’s get started.” Elena cracked open cans of mango hard seltzer for each of them, then turned on her laptop. Priya sat cross-legged on Elena’s sofa, a plush, seafoam-green piece she’d found at an estate sale. Kitty-corner to the sofa, Elena sat with her feet tucked under her on a scallop-back blush-pink upholstered chair.

“I wish we could be real in these things,” Priya said, twirling a gold-and-ruby ring around her thumb, a habit Elena noticed whenever Priya felt annoyed.

“Something like managed to be productive while suffering from the high-control efforts of a megalomanic named Derick ,” Elena suggested.

“Exactly. That’s the kind of information an employer should know up front. And they need to be honest about their messy work cultures in the job posting. This position requires you to be available every day of your life and to answer your supervisor’s emails in the middle of the night.”

“How does Derick send so many emails? Or does he make Sarah do it?”

“Probably Sarah. That poor thing is one more rough day away from a complete nervous breakdown. I found her shaking head to toe by the vending machines because they were out of peanut butter cups, and you know how hangry Derick gets.”

Elena didn’t know how much longer she could stand Sparkle without having her own mental collapse. HR was notoriously incompetent, often making conflicts worse, and the corporate culture rewarded anyone who stepped on others to get good numbers. Elena stared at the half-finished canvases—abstract florals—leaned against the wall by her cluttered bookshelf. A thin line of smoke curled up from the flame of the eucalyptus candle on her TV stand.

She scratched black acrylic paint off her thumbnail, pondering her next move. There had to be a way to earn her fifty-five-hundred-dollar bonus ethically. She’d saved all of her Christmas money this year but would feel more secure with a larger cushion while on the hunt for a new job. Asking her parents for help was an absolute worst-case scenario. Such a request would only fuel Dad’s deep-seated fears that Elena would end up broke.

Furthermore, and more importantly, she had to do it without exploiting her connection to Lawrence. The mere thought made her stomach turn. Of course she hadn’t breathed a word to Derick about her night in New Hope, even though she’d met multiple local business owners. Could she post great opening numbers without poaching Lawrence’s business? If he won the Home Baker Quarterly cash prize, she could give him some affordable marketing ideas that would set him apart from Sparkle. Surely the two bakeries could coexist.

Elena munched salty chips, and Priya typed away on her own laptop. Granted, Elena knew from extensive market research that Sparkle locations tended to drive out local bakeries. Not across the board, but it happened more often than not. Instead of opening her r é sum é document, she opened a blank page and began brainstorming ideas to help both bakeries—Sparkle and Sweet L’s—survive.

Seeing her ideas in black and white made them feel more achievable. Except for this to work, she would have to be honest with Lawrence that she needed her location to do well. And she’d need to convince him she wanted to protect his bakery at the same time. The base of her skull began to throb. There were so many ways this could go wrong. Hopefully, he would be receptive, willing to trust her. And she’d have to overcome her dad’s perennial advice to keep her cards close to the chest, step outside her comfort zone to be up front with Lawrence.

Was she ready for this step? Could she admit she no longer thought a simple hookup was possible or even desirable?

Sunday morning she had free-journaled for twenty minutes, trying to untangle her uncertainty. To determine if she could take a leap toward something more than a fling.

She’d made such a big deal to Priya about how she couldn’t get serious with a rival business owner. That she’d have one night and move on. Because how could she introduce him to her parents? Dad would flip when he found out Lawrence owned a competing business. Her proud, logical (okay, stubborn) side wanted to stick with her original plan.

The part that had enjoyed the best date of her life had other ideas.

In the end, she scratched half of it out, then wrote, Give it a chance .

This is the chance. Take it , she told herself. She typed a note in her document that she would explain the situation to Lawrence tomorrow night during their baking date. There, that made it official. She would give emotional honesty a shot.

A notification ping made her heart skip, and she seized her phone. Lawrence?

“Sorry. It was me,” Priya said. “Can you believe Kiaan deigned to text me? He failed his chem test. All I said was u ok , and look what this punk kid sent back.”

Priya held out the phone, and Elena saw rows of middle-finger emojis taking over Priya’s screen.

“Failing tests isn’t like him. I’m sorry, Priya.”

Priya huffed, blowing a strand of hair off her face. “I hate that I can’t help him. My mom made him an appointment with a therapist. He better go.”

Priya’s forehead creased with worry, tugging at Elena’s heartstrings. Between work garbage and her brother, Priya also seemed poised for a breakdown. No one would be sane come the new year. “I hope he realizes soon how lucky he is to have you for a sister.”

Priya dropped her phone back on the sofa. “He should. Brat.”

Another text message alert sounded, this time for Elena. Hoping again for a text from Lawrence made the fact that it came from Derick twice as bad as usual. Her stomach twisted.

Nice work. Debrief tomorrow. Beneath his remark Derick had sent a screenshot of the New Hope village page, in which Elena could clearly be seen wandering the light show, hand in hand with Lawrence.

She shrieked an expletive. Priya looked at her with startled eyes. Why hadn’t she thought to check social media this morning? Lawrence might have been able to get this taken down. She knew Derick had been monitoring anything to do with that town. Stupid, stupid mistake. Priya stood, then pried the phone from Elena’s tight grip.

“Shh, don’t cry.” She patted Elena’s shaking shoulder while reading the message. “He cannot do this. You were off duty. This is wrong.”

“He doesn’t care,” Elena said, voice thick.

“You have to show this to your dad. He’ll know what to do.”

“I can’t! Then my dad will know I’m having problems at work. And that I’ve been swanning about town with a dashing baker.”

“He doesn’t have to know the extent. Give him the highlights.”

“Priya, this is a man who butchers witnesses on cross-examination. He’ll get the truth out of me before I speak.”

Priya gave Elena’s shoulder a little shake. “Elena, Derick is pure evil. You cannot allow him to do this to you. You had a great time on Saturday; you want to see Lawrence again. He’s been thoughtful and respectful. You cannot and will not let Derick back you into a corner.”

Considering how Derick terrified Priya, Elena found the speech all the more stirring. She sucked in a breath, her thoughts zigzagging around possible adverse outcomes. If she kept her communication with Dad to text, she would have a better chance of not revealing information she wanted to keep to herself. She snuffled; Priya handed her a tissue from the box on the end table.

“Go on. Put on your big-girl pants and do it.”

“I don’t wanna. I wanna hide in my bed and watch A Christmas Story on repeat until I fuse to my sheets.”

“I will steal your TV without a second thought. I don’t care your dad is a powerful lawyer. I will commit a crime to get you to do what we both know is right.” Priya thrust the phone at her.

“Maybe I should paint first. Gather my thoughts.”

“Elena! Don’t make me slap some sense in you.”

“I can’t burn any bridges at work.” As soon as she said the words, she recognized how senseless they sounded. Derick had crossed a line. Even if it made her uncomfortable, she could keep her job while advocating for herself. Dad would give her actionable advice. She opened her hand and accepted the phone. Felt the weight of it in her palm.

Priya looked over her shoulder while Elena wrote Dad a succinct text explaining the situation in basic terms.

She squinted her eyes. “Press send for me; I can’t do it.”

Without hesitation, Priya stamped the send arrow and the message swooshed away.

“And now we wait,” Elena said.

“Wait for the seeds of Derick’s destruction to grow. Hope for a bountiful harvest.” Priya sat back on the sofa, pointed to Elena’s laptop. “Get back to work. We need new jobs now more than ever.”

The next morning Elena was wishing she already had a new job. She hovered outside Derick’s door before rolling her eyes at her cowardice and knocking.

“You’re not on my calendar, Voss,” he said as she entered, sparing her a quick glance before looking back to his computer screen.

“I’m here about your message last night.”

“Ah, yes. Nice work. Give me the details.”

You don’t owe him an explanation. Be direct. “No.”

He turned his attention away from the screen, looked at her, lips slightly parted. He blinked. “What?”

“No.” She clasped her hands, squeezed them to release some tension in her body. “I was there on a personal matter. I have no intention of reporting back every time I leave the city.”

“I thought you were a team player.” His voice dropped an octave to his scariest, most intimidating register.

She hesitated; the words lodged in her throat. Her answer, she realized, would mean choosing Lawrence over the job. In a small way, perhaps, but nonetheless significant. Don’t make excuses; your word is final , Dad had said last night.

She looked Derick dead in the eye. “We are never discussing my personal life. Do not ask again.”

She waited, but he didn’t respond. She turned her back on him and walked away. Once outside his door she let herself breathe, depleted but proud of her choice. Of the stand she’d taken. For herself.