Chapter 3

Three

“ I can’t believe I didn’t come over sooner,” Ann said with a small pout. “All day long I was dreaming about that caramel apple bar, and you’re all sold out.”

“I’m so sorry. I promise to make more later this week and put some aside for you!” It was a little after three and Daphne was packing up for the day. She had just sold the last of today’s inventory with the afternoon coffee break rush, and it was nice to know how much everyone was enjoying her baking.

“Uh-oh…here comes that grump guy,” Ann murmured. “Want me to stay here with you? He looks pissed off and seems to be heading this way.”

“That’s not even possible. You go and do your thing. I’m going to get packed up and head home.” And with a laugh, she waved to Ann and turned to go back into her booth. It was Tuesday, so she had done the bulk of her baking and prepping for the week over the weekend, but there was always more to be done. The schedule was overwhelming at times, but she had a goal, and this was the only way she was going to achieve it. Stacking up her muffin pans, Daphne turned and found Tristan standing at her counter.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, and it was hard to say who was more surprised, but instead of getting snarky with him—which she totally wanted to do—her curiosity got the better of her.

“May I help you?” she asked sweetly.

Tristan cleared his throat and gave her a curt nod. “Yes, um…good afternoon. I was wondering if I might speak with you about, um…some catering.”

Daphne knew her eyes went wide, but she was sure she misheard him. “Catering?”

Another nod. “Yes. Catering.”

Slowly, she put down the pans. “For you?”

“Yes.”

“And just to be clear, you want me to bake something for you that you plan on eating and not throwing away?”

He grinned before nodding again. “Yes.”

She was about to ask another question when he held up a hand to stop her.

“Perhaps you can come upstairs when you’re done for the day so we can talk about it? It’s not as simple as a box or two of muffins.”

Okay, now she was super curious.

“I’m done for the day,” she told him, wiping her hands on her apron. “Everything sold, so I was just going to pack up and head home. Is now a good time for you, or…?”

“Now is fine,” he said with a smile, visibly relaxing. It was a shame he was such a jerk because when he wasn’t frowning or speaking, he was actually quite attractive—dark brown hair, deep blue eyes, scruffy jaw, and when he smiled, she thought she saw a dimple. Most days he dressed in a suit, but today he was more casual in a pair of dark jeans and a cable-knit sweater, very rugged looking.

Ugh…stop it.

“Okay, uh…just let me pack up a few things and I’ll be up.” With a smile, Daphne turned away, but he stopped her.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

That was her first clue that he must be desperate about whatever this catering was. Not only was he asking her to do it, but he was offering to help? This wasn’t the man she had come to know, and it was a little unnerving.

“Thanks, but I just have to put a few things away. Everything else I can carry out to my car after we’re done talking.” Putting her iPad and a few other things into her satchel, she placed them in one of her cabinets before grabbing her phone. Once she was sure everything was secure, she came out to join Tristan. “So…?”

Motioning toward the elevators, Tristan stepped aside and then began to walk beside her. “So…you sold out of everything? I take it that means business is doing well.”

No thanks to you…

“It is,” she replied pleasantly instead. “I think having someplace directly in the building is a nice incentive for people to grab a snack when maybe they either wouldn’t have one or would grab something from a vending machine that they really didn’t want.” Shrugging, she added, “Or ordering something to be delivered. But a lot of the orders are for people taking things home to their families. I get a lot of requests for cookies and cupcakes.”

The elevator arrived and they stepped inside. She almost had a moment of PTSD from their last encounter in one, but immediately let out a long breath to calm herself.

“Are those your specialties?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t say specialty. They’re just the most popular and the easiest to serve and share.”

“Interesting…”

They rode in silence for several moments before it got awkward for her.

“Can I ask you something?”

Tristan nodded. “Of course.”

“Do you enjoy desserts?”

The look on his face spoke volumes. “Seriously? That’s what you want to know?”

“Well, I also want to know why you would even consider talking to me about catering for you considering how antagonistic you’ve been toward me, but I was trying to gauge if it was me you hated or baked goods.”

His bark of laughter was surprising, and Daphne found herself laughing with him.

“Can anyone really hate baked goods?” he asked with a boyish grin. “I mean…you’d have to be a monster to hate a cupcake!”

“Oh, I fully agree, but your behavior these last few weeks had me leaning toward the monster thing.”

“Fair enough.” The elevator doors slid open and Tristan again motioned for her to step out first. “My office is right this way,” he said when he came up beside her. “As you can see, Faye has a box of something of yours at her desk, and I’m sure if you walked around, you’d see several members of my team enjoying whatever it was you baked today.”

It was crazy how much that pleased her.

In the far back corner was Tristan’s office and, as much as she hated to admit it, it was kind of spectacular. Part of her expected it to be fairly basic, with bookshelves, a desk, and bland colors. But as she stepped inside, she found a stylish and inviting space that was divided into three open areas—a seating area with a sofa, two large chairs, and a living wall, Tristan’s massive desk with another set of chairs in front of it, and his workspace with a massive computer screen and drafting table. The entire back wall was glass and overlooked downtown Raleigh, and she couldn’t help but admire the view.

Stepping next to her, he said, “It’s an amazing view. I find myself studying the skyline when I need inspiration.”

“I can see why. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the city from this height before.” But as she moved closer to the window, Daphne remembered why she’d never done it before.

Fear of heights.

Forcing herself to smile, she turned around and admired the rest of the room. “This is a fantastic office,” she gushed, noticing the small kitchenette too. “You basically have everything you could possibly need right here.” That’s when she noticed a door tucked away in the corner. “Don’t tell me; let me guess. A closet with extra clothes in case you need to go to a meeting or a job site?”

He grinned. “That and a luxury restroom with a shower and sauna.”

“Naturally. Because everyone needs to sit in the sauna to get through their day.” It might have come out a little sarcastic, so she opted to make a joke out of it. “My sauna comes in the form of many ovens baking at once, but I wouldn’t want to sit in one.”

“Well, I don’t think anyone would want to sit in an oven, but the sauna is one of my go-to places when I need to relax. And believe me, some days I need it more than others.”

Poor baby…

Again, instead of saying something she’d regret, Daphne walked over and sat down on the sofa. “So, you need some catering?”

With a small shrug, he walked over and joined her, sitting in the chair facing her. “Knight Architects is a family business,” he began. “Every year, my parents host many holiday parties that my mother always organizes.”

She nodded.

Then he explained to her how he and his siblings were essentially in charge this year because of his grandmother’s declining health. “We all thought we were volunteering to help with our grandmother, but it was all about these holiday parties.”

That…wasn’t what she was expecting at all.

“Okay, so…I mean…I only do desserts, Mr. Knight.” She wasn’t sure if it was proper to call him Tristan, so she went for formality. “I can certainly help you with that portion of the events, but beyond that, I don’t have any connections. Or skills. Cooking for one or two people is fine, but a large group is definitely not my thing.”

“Oh, no…that wasn’t where I was going with that,” he quickly clarified. “The parties that I’m hosting are going to be just desserts. I think the bigger parties—the ones my brother and his wife are doing at the country club and one at my parents’ home—are going to be fully catered events. Obviously, my mother took pity on me and figured I could handle putting out some cookies and champagne.”

Frowning, she responded with, “Hmm…”

“Hmm? What does hmm mean?”

“Is that what you’re thinking? Cookies and champagne? For four different parties?”

“What? Is that not good?”

“Would you be impressed at a holiday party that only served cookies and champagne?”

He shifted slightly in his seat. “I was going to offer other beverages too.”

The weary sigh was out before she could stop it. “Mr. Knight…”

“Tristan.”

“Tristan,” she corrected. “You can’t just serve cookies and drinks. This isn’t a PTA meeting. I’m guessing these are for clients and your staff, right?”

He nodded. “The first is a family thing. Then the office party here, one at the office of one of our biggest local clients, and then the last one is for my father’s office, so…”

“So you need to show that you put some thought and planning into it.” Tapping her phone, Daphne did a quick scroll through her pictures before looking up at him. “Come and see these. This is a holiday party I did last year that was a big hit.”

Standing, Tristan came and sat beside her on the sofa. He smelled really good as he leaned in and glanced at her phone.

Gently clearing her throat, she explained what he was looking at. “This was a big tree decorating party, so we had all the desserts look like they could be put on the tree. Obviously there were cookies shaped like all kinds of things, stained glass cookies, and mini mirror glaze Christmas ornament cakes. Then we did rum balls, peppermint balls, and fudgy pecan bourbon balls. It was all very cute.”

“Impressive.”

She scrolled some more and showed him the cupcake towers she’d been working on. “I think for the family party, the tree decorating theme could be a lot of fun. You can get a tree and let them all add decorations to it while enjoying desserts that look like ornaments. It would be a great sentimental thing—maybe something that reminds you of holidays you spent when you were growing up.”

“That…that could work.”

“And maybe a hot cocoa bar! Ooh…I’ve done them for my last two personal holiday parties and they’re always a big hit.”

“Um…okay…”

“The office parties are a little more laid back, but you want everything to be easy to serve, easy to eat. Lots of handheld things like the cookies, cupcakes, bars…you don’t want anything that has to be sliced or scooped because it leaves too much of an opportunity to make a mess, and nobody wants that.”

“Agreed.”

“And the client party, you want something maybe a little more upscale so maybe we do a table with two of the cupcake towers, a champagne tower, and then we do dessert cups that are served butler style—you know, where the servers walk around with them.”

“Dessert cups?”

“Things like… pecan caramel baklava cups, mini tiramisu cups, chocolate cheesecake trifle cups, um…mini key lime cheesecake cups, red velvet cupcakes in a jar, carrot cake shots…oh, the list is endless! We can pick maybe a dozen desserts for each party and come up with creative displays and themes!”

Daphne knew she was smiling from ear to ear, but Tristan looked less than thrilled.

Not that she was surprised.

“How about this,” she began a bit more calmly. “I’ll work up the menus tonight, and tomorrow we can get together if you have time—or I can just email them to you—for you to look over. I’ll just need a basic head count so I know what I’m dealing with, but this is all extremely doable.”

“That wasn’t what the other dozen bakeries said,” he mumbled.

“Most bakeries at this time of year are already booked and have set menus for what they’re going to offer. Since I’m just a small fish, I can be more creative. And if none of this sounds like what you’re looking for, then that’s fine too. Working together was never something I thought was going to happen, so…no hard feelings.” When she went to stand, Tristan’s hand on her arm stopped her.

“Thank you for being willing to take time out of your day to meet with me,” he said, his voice oddly soft.

Here it comes, she thought, the brushoff.

“This is all out of my comfort zone,” he admitted. “I have no idea if this sounds good or bad because normally I just show up and don’t really pay attention to what’s being served or if there’s a theme or…any of it. All I know is that it’s important to my mother that I do this, and I don’t want to let her down.”

Aww…

Resting her hand on top of his, Daphne met his gaze and offered him a smile. “Then we’re not going to let that happen. Together, we’re going to make her proud. I promise.”

They stayed like that longer than she thought was professional, but it didn’t feel weird. His eyes were a deep blue and when he wasn’t scowling, they just sort of drew you in.

Like they were right now.

Uh-oh…

Pulling back a bit more dramatically than the situation required, she got to her feet. “So…yeah. I’ll work up some plans and I’ll just email them to you.” Glancing around his office, she asked, “Do you have a card or something with your email address on it?”

Nodding, Tristan walked over to his desk and picked one up, holding it out to her. “Thanks, Daphne. I…I really appreciate the help.”

Taking the card, she tried not to get lost in his eyes again. “No problem. And hey, I promise not to sabotage your parties like you were going to sabotage my muffin delivery.” And sliding the card into her pocket, she smiled. “Have a great night!”

It wasn’t until she was in the elevator that she realized what she had just said.

“Oh God, why would I say something like that?” But everyone knew she wasn’t that kind of person. Tristan probably took it as the joke that she intended it to be, right?

“Why would she say that?”

Tristan had asked himself that question at least a hundred times in the last fifteen hours and thirty minutes, and as he strode into the building, he was going to demand an answer.

Yanking the lobby door open, the smell of baked goods hit him in a way he hadn’t noticed before. He knew Daphne didn’t bake on-site and she’d been here in the building for several weeks, so…did it always smell this good?

No. No time to think about yummy smells. If she was planning on messing with his parties to get back at him for being curt with her, then he was going to put a stop to that right now. Storming over to the gingerbread house—which he still thought was ridiculous—he was all set to start yelling when she turned and smiled at him.

A genuine smile.

Yesterday had felt like blinders had come off and he saw her for the first time. She was no longer a nuisance in the lobby, but a person.

A woman.

A rather attractive woman.

You know, if long blonde hair, fair creamy skin, and big green eyes were your thing.

But the way she looked right now—all fresh and happy and relaxed—had Tristan feeling like some sort of cartoon villain.

So he forced himself to calm down a bit before asking, “Were you serious about sabotaging my parties? Because if you are, then…”

Daphne quickly held up a hand to stop him. “I am so sorry for saying that yesterday! I don’t even know why I did! The entire ride down in the elevator, I kept asking myself why I would say something like that! I would never ever sabotage an event! Only someone who was a real…real…you know… villain would do something like that!” Then she laughed softly. “I mean, that would just be wrong on so many levels. Especially knowing how important this is to your mom.”

It was like she was calling him a villain, but…not.

And somehow, like she was weirdly in his head.

“Oh, well…it just struck me as a possible…you know…payback or poetic justice or something.”

Her expression softened. “Okay, but…you didn’t actually get to go through with all of that with the muffins. I totally thwarted you.” She giggled, her hand going to her mouth. “Thwarted?” she repeated before breaking into another fit of giggles. “What a strange conversation to start the day! Villains, sabotage, thwarting…my goodness!” When she finally stopped laughing, she placed her hands on her counter and simply smiled. “I emailed you my proposals a little while ago, so when you go upstairs, they’ll be waiting for you in your inbox.”

“Um…thanks,” he murmured.

Daphne turned away for a moment, but when she was back, she handed him a white paper bag with the top folded down. “It’s a blueberry muffin. Faye told me you were partial to them, so…now you can eat while you look over what I came up with for your parties.”

Accepting the bag, he murmured a thank you before taking a step back. “I’ll look over everything and will talk to you about it later. I have some appointments this morning, so…”

“No worries. But with the family party being a little over a week away, we really need to start planning.”

“Got it.” Without another word, Tristan turned and strode over to the elevators because he was eager to get up to his office and read what she’d sent him. There was still a tiny part of him that wanted not to like whatever she came up with on principle, but it was childish to think like that. Basically, Daphne was saving his behind, and he needed to remember that and be a little more thankful.

Okay, a lot more thankful, but…his current mood wasn’t allowing him to feel good or thankful for anything.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been in this kind of situation before with the city, but for some reason, this year Tristan felt like he’d hit his limit. Everyone else in his family had a “claim to fame” building in their city skyline and he was the only one who hadn’t. No one made a big deal about it, but it weighed heavily on his mind. All around him, people were making their dreams a reality, and he wasn’t.

Hell, even those people with the booths in the lobby were going after their dreams and were thrilled with their little setup down there, so why couldn’t he be happy with all his other accomplishments? He had designed dozens of buildings and homes, and yet it wasn’t enough. He wanted more.

“I want the damn skyline,” he mumbled as he rode the elevator up to the twenty-eighth floor.

No one was in the office yet when the doors opened, and he kind of relished the quiet as he made his way to his desk and opened up his laptop. Most people enjoyed using tablets, but he was a little old school and still enjoyed having a computer on his desk. Hell, he still had one over by his drafting table with two twenty-seven-inch monitors on it. He was a visual guy and he needed larger screens than he’d get with a tablet to make his designs come to life.

Walking over to his kitchenette, he made himself a cup of coffee before settling down and looking at Daphne’s proposals.

It took less than three minutes for him to realize she was borderline brilliant and had to wonder why she was working two jobs and running a damn holiday bakery booth when she was this talented.

Every party was detailed with menu, décor, color scheme, serving options, and included illustrations, so he could clearly see what she was trying to explain.

The architect part of him—the one who thrived on visuals—appreciated the effort more than anything, and he swore he almost fell a little in love with her simply based on that one little detail. Most people communicated in texts and abbreviated words. The fact that Daphne took the time to not only consider all the unique elements of each event, but to personalize them and make them fun and festive in their own right while providing illustrations was just…

“I seriously owe her an apology,” he said before taking a long sip of his coffee. And after a bite of the muffin, he was tempted to go down to the lobby right now and do it.

Instead, he read over the proposals again multiple times before Faye walked in to remind him about his first meeting of the day with one of his engineers and how they were going to have to walk the site of one of their buildings in Durham that was currently under construction. That meant he would be out of the office for several hours and wouldn’t have time to talk with Daphne this morning.

Or that afternoon.

When he’d walked out with his engineer that morning, Daphne had a line of customers, so he didn’t want to interrupt. The job site meetings ran long, and when he got back to the office, her booth was closed for the day. Glancing at his phone, he saw it was after three and wished she had an actual bakery he could go to so they could talk, but ultimately knew he was going to have to wait until tomorrow morning, email her, or call her.

“Was her phone number in her email?” he murmured before pulling it up on his phone on his way up on the elevator. Sure enough, her number was there, but he figured he’d wait until after he went over things with Faye to call.

That took another ninety minutes.

Everyone was leaving for the day and Tristan was relieved to have the place to himself. Pulling up Daphne’s email, he wondered if he should call or text.

“Text first and see if she’s free to talk.”

Tristan: Hello, Daphne. It’s Tristan Knight. Sorry I missed you today. Was curious if you had time to talk about those proposals?

He hit send before standing and stretching and opting to grab himself a bottle of water. There was no guarantee she was going to see the text right away, so…

The phone dinged with an incoming text.

Picking it up, he grinned.

Daphne: I am! I never saw you come back through the lobby, so I figured you were busy, but I’m free now!

Daphne: Do you want me to call or…?

Tristan: I’ll call you.

Taking a quick sip of water, he sat down and immediately called.

“Hey, Tristan!” she said cheerily. “Hope your meetings went well today.”

“Um…they did. Thanks. And I guess you had another successful day and sold out of everything, right?”

“I did! I’d bring in more, but I don’t have the space. The booth has been perfect the last few years, but this year I’m just selling so much more. I can’t really afford to expand on it, so I just need to be happy with it, no matter how limiting it is.”

His mind immediately began envisioning a quick add-on that would take very little time and effort, but would give her the extra storage space. He could draw it up and…

“So, what did you think of the proposals?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts. “What do you like? Dislike? Any tweaks or changes? I have several friends you can hire for set up and break down, and they’ll also stay for the events and serve. I don’t know any bartenders, but I figured your mom would probably have people you could reach out to if you needed them.”

“I do,” he agreed, scrolling through her email again. “Honestly, Daphne, you nailed this. Everything you suggested sounds perfect.”

Silence.

“I haven’t shared it with anyone—not even my mother—but I already know she’s going to be thrilled.”

More silence.

Tristan gently cleared his throat. “The illustrations were very helpful. I’m a visual guy and I know in my line of work, my clients definitely need to see the designs I come up with. So I appreciated the fact that you do that as well.”

And still more silence.

The next thing to come out of his mouth was something he had never admitted to anyone.

“This whole thing…well…I really need…I mean… I seriously just need a win. You have no idea what it’s like to be the only person in a family of successful architects and engineers to never…you know…do anything big. Making these parties a success just…it would make me feel a little less like a failure.” When she didn’t say anything to that, he asked, “Um…are you still there?”

He heard a sniffle right before she quietly replied, “I am.”

“Are you okay?”

“Mm-hmm…I’m just…you have no idea how much I’ve been bracing myself all day for you to tell me I got it all wrong and criticize what I came up with or to say you were never serious and then yank the whole thing away. I guess part of me believed you were just messing with me and…and…”

Dammit.

Raking a hand through his hair, he felt like a freaking ogre. “I would never do something like that. I know you don’t have any reason to believe it based on my previous behavior, but I meant what I said to you yesterday. This is very important to me and my family, and I’m very sorry if I made you feel like I was doing this simply to mess with you. That wasn’t my intention at all.”

Another sniffle. “Thank you for saying that. When I didn’t see you for the rest of the day, I thought maybe you were avoiding me. Then when you texted, I figured…this is it. He’s going to tell me he found someone else or he made the whole thing up. But hearing you say you liked what I did?” One more sniffle. “It was the greatest compliment ever. You have no idea how happy my heart is right now.”

It would be wrong to point out how sad she sounded, so he let it go.

“Well, I meant what I said. Everything in this proposal just sounds exactly like the sort of thing my mother would have planned herself. So, what happens now?”

“Before we get to that, why on earth do you feel like a failure? That’s just crazy!”

Crap.

“It’s nothing. I never should have said anything. So, what happens now?”

“Look, I get what you’re saying. I’m an only child, but all of my cousins are super successful and I’m working out of a makeshift gingerbread house.” With a soft laugh, she added, “But we’re all doing things we love, and I know it’s not a competition. You should be proud of what you do. And even though I haven’t seen anything you’ve built, I’m sure they’re amazing.”

She was killing him.

Tristan gently cleared his throat. “It’s something I’m working through. So…”

“What comes next?” she asked lightly. “Well, it would be helpful if I could see the space you’re going to use for the parties at your place. Do you have pictures you can send me?”

“No, but I can get that for you.”

“Great! And one party will be in your office, so I can just come up tomorrow and talk to Faye about where the best spot is to set up. And the last one is at your father’s office and…hmm…”

“Hmm?”

“Any chance his office space is like yours? Like the same sort of layout?”

“His is more than twice the size,” he explained. “Twice the number of employees too. I can put you in touch with his office manager—her name is Judith. When you come up to the office tomorrow, I’ll give you her contact information.”

“Perfect! Thank you.” She paused for a moment, and he heard something beeping in the background. “Listen, Tristan, I really appreciate you taking a chance on me. These parties are going to be festive and wonderful, and everyone is going to think that you are the ultimate holiday party host!”

The thought of it made him laugh. “I don’t know about that…”

More beeping.

“Um…do you need to go? I keep hearing some beeping, and…”

“Oh, I’m just taking some muffins out of the ovens for tomorrow,” she told him. “I rent kitchen space so I can bake in bulk. Then I prep a lot so I can get in here early tomorrow and bake some more and then I bring it all to the booth. The sound you’re hearing is the oven telling me things are done, so…hang on.”

He could hear things moving around for several moments before she got back on the line.

“Okay, that’s done, so now I can head home and make myself some dinner and relax. It makes for a long day, but I love it.”

“What time do you get up?”

“The alarm goes off at four, I’m here baking at five, and then I try to get to your building by seven. Sometimes earlier. Then I’m usually there until three, come back here and prep and bake before I head home and do it all again!”

“How can you possibly keep up that kind of schedule? You must get less than six hours of sleep, depending on when you go to bed.”

“I normally crash hard around ten, so…yeah. Six hours sounds about right. But this is only for November and December. Anything is possible when you know it’s only for a short amount of time.”

“And…why is it only for November and December? Why not just open your own bakery?”

“ Ouch! Oh, hang on…I touched the pan I just took out of the oven. Um…what did you ask?”

“I’m just curious why you don’t open your own bakery?”

“It’s complicated,” she blurted out with a huff, the first time he’d ever heard her sound less than cheery. “Plus, it’s a long story and I still need to stop at the grocery store and get something to make for dinner, so…”

Now he was more curious than ever, so he did the only thing he could.

“Why don’t you let me buy you dinner?” he asked smoothly.

“Do you mean like…you’ll order takeout and have it delivered to my house so I don’t have to shop?”

That wasn’t even remotely what he meant.

“No, I was thinking of taking you out someplace to eat. Or maybe you can come to my place, this way you can check it out for the sake of the parties. You know, two birds, one stone and all that.”

“You know, as much as I appreciate the offer, I think by the time that all happened, I would be way too exhausted to be good company. And I’d probably be too tired to drive myself home. Thank you, though.”

“Then maybe I can pick up some takeout and bring it to you so we can discuss all the plans. What do you say?”

“Tristan…”

“I promise to be gone by nine so you can go to sleep at ten. I’ll even find some pictures of my house so you can start figuring things out,” he went on. “We’re short on time, and this could be great to have some uninterrupted time to finalize everything.”

“I don’t know…”

“How do you feel about Chinese food? Thai? Greek? Pizza?”

“Ooh…I do love pizza…”

“Then I’ll bring the pizza. Text me your address and your favorite toppings and I’ll be there in less than an hour. Will that work?”

“I really should say no…”

“But you’re tired, hungry, don’t want to shop, and really want to talk about finalizing the party plans,” he finished for her with a small laugh. “Am I right?”

“Impressive, but…yes. And I love pepperoni, peppers, and mushrooms on my pizza, I’ll text you my address, and I need to get these muffins put away. I’ll see you soon!”

Less than a minute after she hung up, Tristan was staring down at her address. She lived about fifteen minutes from his office, but he had no idea where the kitchen space she rented was. So, he did some work for twenty minutes before calling in their pizza order. Grabbing his things—including his laptop because he had a file with a video tour of his house that he could show her—he made his way out to the elevator.

And when he walked across the lobby, he stopped in front of Daphne’s gingerbread house. It was still done up in fall colors, but upon closer inspection, he realized everything on it was handmade. Putting his hand on one corner, he gave it a little shake and found it to be extremely sturdy. He knew all the fall decorations would soon be replaced with Christmas ones—primarily oversized candy—and while it was a little more rustic than he would have used, it was kind of creative.

Then he slowly walked around it and thought more about the extra space she said she’d like and saw exactly where it could go and how it could easily be constructed and added. Maybe he’d talk to her about it tonight. With another glance around the lobby, he wondered why the landlord hadn’t put a coffee shop in. Clearly the people who worked here would support one, so it seemed like a missed opportunity.

Something else he’d do some research into.

One thing was becoming painfully obvious to him, however. He had let his snobbery and foul mood get the better of him to the point he was bullying hard-working people who were just trying to make a living.

The only thing that had been missing was him shouting, “Bah humbug!”