Chapter 9

Nine

F or a little over a week, Daphne felt like she never stopped running.

Or baking.

So much baking.

It seemed like everyone in the building had placed orders from her and it was taking every spare minute of the day for her to keep up. Luckily, she had her mom helping her, and her dad had graciously stepped up to help as well. He was primarily doing the grunt work—washing bowls and pans and putting boxes together—but every little bit helped. By the end of each day, Daphne was falling into bed by nine and hadn’t had any time alone with Tristan.

They saw each other every day, but he was typically either on his way to a meeting or coming back from one, and she was busy with customers. Several times he had brought lunch her lunch and would man the booth while she ate.

The few times he’d had to interact with anyone were pretty hilarious because he looked so uncomfortable standing in the gingerbread house. It had been tempting to ask him to put on a Santa hat with a matching apron, but she doubted he’d find it amusing.

Just thinking about it still made her laugh.

What wasn’t funny, however, was how much she actually missed him.

Daphne’s dating life had always been a little lackluster, and it had been a really long time since she’d been in a committed relationship. So being alone on the weekends—or any time—never bothered her. But after two weeks of being involved with Tristan, she was starting to resent her alone time.

A lot.

But were they dating? In a committed relationship? Or were they just friends or colleagues with benefits?

Just thinking about it hurt her head.

His father’s Christmas party was in two days—luckily on a Saturday, so she’d have plenty of time on the day of the party to prep. It had seemed odd for him to make everyone come back on their day off, but supposedly that was how it was done every year because of all the decorating that went into turning the office into the North Pole. She’d been in contact with the office manager along with Tristan’s mother, and everything was good to go. Cynthia begged Daphne to wear the Mrs. Claus dress again and she’d agreed.

“I can only imagine what Tristan’s reaction is going to be…” she murmured.

Marcus and Jackie were working the party along with two servers Jackie recommended. They were all heading to Chapel Hill together—in separate vehicles—but it would make it easier for them to get everything unloaded and set up together. Tristan had casually asked her about arriving together, but she had explained why she was going with her staff instead.

That was two days ago, and she hadn’t seen or spoken to him since.

They were halfway through December, and she only had two more weeks here with her booth. It was going to be sad to have to pack everything up and go back to her quiet work-from-home life, but she seriously needed about two weeks’ worth of sleep.

Not that it was going to happen, but that was her dream.

“Daphne!” Marcie called out as she rushed over. “Did you hear the news?”

“What news?”

“There’s talk that the landlord wants to make this whole craft vendor thing a seasonal, quarterly thing! How exciting is that?”

Not very, she thought to herself. She doubted there would be the same excitement or traffic flow for baked goods, jewelry, handmade soaps, or pet portraits at other times of the year. It wasn’t practical—no one was shopping for gifts the rest of the year the way they did in November and December. So, she wasn’t exactly sure why anyone would see this as a good thing.

Still, it was something she should reach out to her friend Sara about and see if maybe she could find out more information. It was disappointing that the two of them had rarely seen each other since Daphne started here, but apparently her boss was working a major court case and Sara was spending most of her days at the courthouse.

“It feels like maybe they want to have some mini retail space down here and they’re going to offer it to us first!” Marcie went on.

“What do Ann and Kaitlyn think?”

“I don’t know if Kaitlyn’s too excited about it, but Ann was definitely interested. Didn’t you get the notice? We each had one in our booths this morning.”

“Um…no.” But she still turned around and began looking in case it fell to the floor. After several minutes, she realized it hadn’t. “I guess having a food vendor isn’t something they’re looking for.” And dammit, she wasn’t going to cry.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Daph. I just thought we all got them…”

“It’s not a big deal,” she lied. “I have my website business to get back to. I’ve neglected it more than I should have lately. But it’s great news for you guys!” Forcing herself to smile, she added, “It’s such a wonderful opportunity and I wish you all nothing but luck!”

She was saved from having to say anything else when Faye walked over. “Hey, Daphne! Hey, Marcie! This entire day has been exhausting,” she said with a small groan. “Tristan’s in a mood because the city is now putting off approving any projects until February. Honestly, I’ve never seen him so upset. Please tell me you have a blueberry muffin left.”

She did and she instantly put it in a bag. “I’m not sure how much it will help. It’s already pretty late in the day.”

“At this point, it can’t hurt either. I know he’s going to be working late obsessing about things that he can’t do anything about. I just need his foul mood to lighten up a bit.” She looked at Daphne’s display case. “I’ll take the last brownie for me for right now, and two of the chocolate peppermint cupcakes for later.”

“That’s a lot of chocolate,” Daphne teased.

“I deserve it after dealing with him all day.” She paid for her order and gave Daphne a half-hearted smile. “Wish me luck.”

Once she was alone, an idea hit. Tristan had brought her lunch when she was working too hard, so maybe tonight she could bring him dinner. It was almost time for her to close and if she got out of here on time, she could get over to the kitchen and put in two hours of prep time and maybe find a few minutes to freshen up before coming back here to surprise him.

“It can happen,” she murmured, but she wasn’t sure if she could pull it all off.

But she was determined to try.

So she sold a few more items and then began closing up. It took thirty minutes before she carried the last bin out to her car and headed for her kitchen space. Her mother was there working on some of the orders she needed for tomorrow, and she spent the first fifteen minutes gushing with gratitude.

“Daphne, stop!” her mother said with a laugh. “You know I love doing this, and I’m glad I can help. You must be looking forward to having your life back in a few weeks, huh?”

Shrugging, she blurted out the news Marcie had shared with her. “Don’t you think it’s weird that they didn’t ask me too?”

“It does seem odd. Especially since the bulk of the employees come to you! You should reach out to the landlord and demand an explanation. That just doesn’t make any sense.”

“I agree.” She unloaded bins and washed some pans before digging into prepping some cupcakes for tomorrow.

“Would you like to join me and your father for dinner? We’re going out for pizza and thought you might enjoy not having to go home and cook.”

“Oh, you’re sweet, but…I have plans.”

Her mother arched a brow at her. “Really? With anyone special?”

“Mom…”

“Is Tristan taking you out on a proper date? Because it seems like the two of you only get together at his parties. No offense, but it looks more like fake dating than real dating.”

At that moment, she regretted ever telling her mother that she was involved with Tristan.

“He’s working late, and we haven’t spent a lot of time together since his office party, so I’m going to bring dinner to him.”

“You’re too good to him,” her mother murmured. “But you always treat everyone better than they treat you.”

“Mom…”

“What? I’m your mother and I’m simply making an observation.” She paused and smiled as some Christmas music began to play. “Ooh! I love Bing’s version of ‘White Christmas,’ don’t you?”

Daphne nodded, but stayed focused on her task. After that, they chatted about random things—and sang along to a lot of Christmas songs—but when five o’clock hit, she was cleaned up and ready to go. There wasn’t time for her to go home and change into something pretty, but after the cupcake debacle last week, she kept a change of casual clothes in the car. Running out, she grabbed her bag and brought it inside and made quick work of freshening up. When she stepped out of the restroom, she felt marginally better.

“That sweatshirt is adorable!” her mother said with a big grin. “A snowman baking cookies! How perfect is that?”

Somehow she didn’t think Tristan would find the humor in it, but it was all she had. At least she could freshen up her makeup and brush her teeth.

“Okay, I’m out of here! Sorry to run out like this!”

“Have fun and tell Tristan I said hello. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Mom!”

On her way back to the office, she called in an order to the Asian fusion place—because she was seriously obsessed with their food. Parking by the office, she walked around the corner to pick up the food because it was easier that way. Plus, it confirmed that Tristan was still there because she saw his car.

When she was finally in the elevator heading up to the twenty-eighth floor, she hoped he’d be happy to see her. Considering how little they’d seen of each other, she kind of prayed it was because work was keeping them busy and not that he was avoiding her.

“Oh God…what if he’s avoiding me?”

Unfortunately, it was too late to change her mind because the doors were opening and he was standing right by Faye’s desk.

“Daphne?” Raking a hand through his hair, he looked mildly confused. “What are you doing here?” Glancing at his watch, he asked, “It’s rather late for you, isn’t it?”

Holding up the bag of takeout, she said, “Surprise! I hope you haven’t eaten dinner or ordered any. Faye mentioned you were having a rough week and I thought I’d come and try to cheer you up.”

She practically held her breath waiting for his reaction.

The smile delighted her.

The kiss surprised her.

And the tender way he looked at her secretly thrilled her.

“Come on,” she said softly, taking him by the hand and leading him back to his office. “I don’t know what you’re working on, but I’m sure you can take a break.”

In his office, he excused himself to go and wash up. In the meantime, Daphne set up their dinner in his seating area. There was a small table and chairs set that was perfect. She knew the office so well from the party last week that she knew where to get them something to drink and some real plates and silverware. By the time she had the table set, Tristan was stepping out of the restroom.

“Wow,” he said quietly. “This is…it’s exactly what I needed. Thank you.”

“You mentioned that you really enjoyed the crispy shrimp and broccoli, so that’s what I ordered for you.” Smiling, she added, “I also got fried rice for us to share, and I brought a couple of cupcakes for dessert.” Taking a bite of her dinner, she hummed with appreciation. “I know it makes me boring because I always order the same dish…”

“The Cantonese tiger beef,” he said with a wink.

“Exactly. I know it makes me boring, but I just love it. Most nights lately I’m eating a bowl of soup or a sandwich in front of my Christmas tree, in my pajamas, before crawling into bed because I’m exhausted. So this is a treat.”

“You work too hard. And that’s coming from a man who everyone says works too hard so…clearly I know what I’m talking about.”

“It’s just temporary,” she reminded him. “In a few weeks, my life will return to normal.” She paused before adding, “But I’ll miss my tree and all the twinkly lights. Sitting in front of them just makes me happy. Sadly, all good things must come to an end, right?”

She caught the small eye roll before he asked, “And what about when you finally take the leap and open a bakery of your own? Then what?”

But she waved him off. “That’s so far away. And when it happens, I’ll have a staff, so everything’s not on me.”

“I’m sure that will be a relief. I know I couldn’t accomplish half of what I do without my staff. Sometimes you end up with someone who you don’t realize is a liability—it slips through the cracks somehow—but once you figure it all out, everything runs smoothly.”

As much as she didn’t want to, she couldn’t help but ask, “Have you heard from Jeff since the party?”

“Nope,” he confirmed with a headshake. “Good riddance. I made sure I reached out personally to all his clients to apologize for any possible inappropriate behavior. Luckily there weren’t too many complaints and I think I even managed to save a few accounts.”

“Well that’s a good thing.” They ate in companionable silence before her curiosity got the better of her. Putting her fork down, she blurted out, “What exactly are we doing, Tristan? Are we just fooling around or…or…is there something more here? Is it weird that I came here? Is this like one of those things that only happens when there’s a party and then we’re supposed to pretend it was nothing the rest of the time?”

“Daphne…”

“Because I’m not good at these things!” she went on. “I don’t date a lot and I’ve never even considered anything casual. This whole thing with you caught me off guard, and now I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”

He repeated her name again, but she was on a roll.

“We don’t make sense! I’m here in my holiday sweatshirt and you’re wearing a stupidly expensive suit! At least…well…I don’t know that it’s stupidly expensive, but it looks that way, so…” Letting out a long, loud breath, she concluded with, “I don’t know the rules and I really hate that.”

Patiently, he took a sip of the sweet tea she had gotten for him and placed the glass down before looking at her. Reaching across the table, he took her hand in his. “I don’t think we’re just fooling around, Daphne. I’d love to spend more time with you, but I’m also trying to respect your time. I know the next two weeks are going to be incredibly hectic for you. Between my father’s office party and then all the Christmas Eve orders you have, I didn’t want to add one more thing to your schedule.”

The smile he gave her was definitely reassuring.

“Plus, I haven’t been in the best of moods lately, but that’s something you probably already know about me.” Laughing softly, he caressed her hand. “I’m sure you look at me like I hate the holidays, but I don’t. This year has just been one disappointment after another for me professionally and I’m taking it personally.”

“Oh, Tristan…” What she wanted to do was get up and go curl up in his lap, but…that would be awkward. Especially while they were eating dinner. “I may not know a lot about architecture, but I’m an excellent listener.”

Daphne had a feeling he didn’t like to talk about his feelings, but at that moment, he surprised her.

“I feel like I’m suffocating,” he admitted quietly, shocking himself. But now that it was out there, he went with it. “Architecture and engineering are all I’ve ever known. I’ve been groomed for this my entire life.” Slowly, he pulled his hand from hers before raking it through his hair. “I love what I do, and I know I’m good at it.”

“But…”

“But…I’m competing for jobs that don’t excite me because I’m looking for approval and acceptance from my family.”

Holy crap! Did I seriously just say that out loud?

For several moments, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Thankfully, Daphne finally spoke. “If you could design or build anything you’d like, what would it be? What projects would bring you the most joy?”

He had to think about that. Studying his hands, he replied, “That’s the thing—it’s not so different from what I’m already doing; I just want the freedom to take on smaller projects. Like…not everything needs to be a skyscraper in the middle of downtown.”

When he looked up at her, there was nothing but kindness staring back at him.

“You asked me why I don’t open my own bakery,” she began. “That’s always been the dream, but doing something like I have down in the lobby? The little seasonal pop-up shop? That brings me joy. The thought of running an actual bakery terrifies me. So I rent booths at craft fairs and small town festivals. Because it doesn’t need to be a brick and mortar building somewhere.” Pausing, she took a sip of her water. “Although a kitchen of my own instead of renting a shared space would be nice.”

“I guess we’re not so different, you and I, huh?” he said lightly.

“We’re not.” Tilting her head, she studied him. “Have you ever spoken to your father about wanting to branch out? Have you tried telling him that maybe you want to build custom homes?”

“I already do that.”

“Oh, well…or that you want to build giant shopping malls?”

“Did that one too,” he said with a small smile.

“Well…jeez, Tristan! I already know you build offices, homes, and malls. What’s left? Do you want to build an airport? A church? A school? I mean…help me out here.”

“I want to build it all,” he said, shrugging. “But I want to build it because I want to and not because it’s what’s expected. I’d love to design homes like the ones Frank Lloyd Wright designed. I’d love to build mansions and tiny homes or fantastic luxury resorts and smaller rustic ones. Beach resorts, ski lodges, theme park hotels…I want to unleash my creativity instead of sticking to all the traditional things my family has always excelled at.”

“Then you should! My goodness, just because your family has done things one way doesn’t mean it’s the only way! You have a gift and you should use it to do things you love!”

“It’s not that easy…”

“I love to bake, and I didn’t let the fact that I don’t own a bakery stop me. The Board of Health still comes in and inspects my space—and sometimes they hang out for hours watching me work to make sure I’m doing things properly—and that part is kind of a drag. Ultimately, though, I get to bring my gift and love of baking out into the world and it makes me so happy! You really should fight for what you want. No one should be forced to stay in a box creatively just because everyone else lacks the vision to create something new and bold and wonderful.”

How was this woman real? Her perpetual optimism was something completely foreign to him and yet…sitting here right now, she made him want to believe that anything was possible.

And that’s why he stood up, nearly knocking his chair over.

“Come on. Let’s pack up our dinner and get out of here. It’s far too late to be eating in the office.”

Daphne eyed him warily. “Tristan, we’re almost done. It seems silly to pack it all up now and…”

Walking around to her side of the table, he gently pulled her to her feet. “I’d like to go home with you and finish our dinner in front of your Christmas tree.” Resting his forehead against hers, he added, “I was going to suggest my house, but I figured you’d hate how un-festive it is.”

Her giggle was the sweetest sound. “Your tree was very nice.”

That made him chuckle with her. “Nice, but not festive, right?” Before she could answer, he kissed her. “I’ll work on that. But not tonight. Tonight, we’ll marvel at how cheery your home is while we finish our dinners and eat our dessert.”

“Or…” she countered. “We finish our dinner here so we don’t have to reheat it and then head to my place for dessert.” One soft hand smoothed over his jaw before moving down to rest on his shoulder. “All the desserts.”

Grinning, he placed a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. “I like the way you think.”

So that’s what they did.

A little over an hour later, they were snuggled up together on Daphne’s couch, with the only lights coming from her tree and the twinkly lights on her mantle. It wasn’t something he ever would have considered doing—sitting in the dark with only his holiday lights on—but there was something very comforting about it.

“The cupcakes I brought to the office are the chocolate peppermint ones, but I have others here if you wanted something else.”

“No, those are great. I never thought I would enjoy that combination, but it’s become one of my favorites this season.”

“That makes me very happy,” she softly replied. “Thank you.”

“Well…like you said earlier, you have a gift and what you do is amazing.”

“Wait until you see the cake I’m making for your father’s party.”

“A cake? I thought the whole thing was about handheld desserts. Who decided on a cake?”

“Oh, there’s going to be plenty of cupcakes—we’re making cranky ones based on the Grinch and Christmas light ones—plus all the cookies, and the dessert cups, but your mom and Judith both asked about cakes. And not just basic sheet cakes, but big, themed ones. So we’re making tiered gift box cakes for both ends of the table. They’re going to be fabulous!”

“Gift box cakes?”

Nodding, she explained, “They look like wrapped gift boxes with giant bows on them. Lots of fondant, so they’re a bit time-consuming, but…since the party’s on a Saturday, I have plenty of time to get it done.”

“Seems like a lot of extra work when you’ve already got enough on your plate…”

Turning her head, she kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry so much. I’ve got it all under control. I’m going to grab the cupcakes. Would you like some coffee or something to drink?”

Forcing a smile, he said, “Whatever you’re having.”

She stood and looked down at him. “Don’t freak out about this. Please. I’m fine and can get it all done. I’m used to the holidays being like this.”

Tristan didn’t doubt that for a moment, but it still bothered him that his mother would make more work for Daphne when she knew how hard she was already working.

Note to self, call Mom tomorrow…

Not that it was going to change anything, but it would make him feel better to gently reprimand her for changing the menu like that—especially when there was nothing wrong with the original menu.

Letting his head fall back against the cushions, he sighed. It was nice to focus on something other than work—even if it was just cake. Actually, this whole scenario was nice. He’d been so consumed with work and all that was going wrong that he hadn’t had any time to simply let himself relax and enjoy…well…anything.

Several minutes passed and Daphne hadn’t come back, so he stood and went to the kitchen, but she wasn’t there. “Daphne?”

“In here,” she called out. It was obvious she had gone to the bedroom and he wondered if she was changing into something other than her leggings and holiday sweatshirt.

Glancing around the kitchen, he didn’t see the cupcake box she had placed there earlier. “Um…did you want me to put the cupcakes out?”

A small laugh was her first response. “Can you come back here, please?”

Walking down the short hallway, he stepped into her bedroom and froze. She was on the bed wearing the sexiest, skimpiest red lace underwear he had ever seen.

And she was holding up two cupcakes. “I thought we’d have dessert in here.” Her voice was soft and sultry, and he was already kicking off his shoes.

“Put the cupcakes on the bedside table,” he gruffly commanded. “We’ll enjoy them after I enjoy you.”

And they did.

Naked, sweaty, and with a definite sugar buzz, Tristan placed a soft kiss on top of Daphne’s head. She was practically asleep, her head was on his chest and their legs were tangled together, and he almost felt bad for keeping her up late.

Then he realized it was barely ten, so…technically she was going to bed on time.

Reaching over, he carefully turned off the light and got comfortable even as he tried not to disturb her. It was a bit early for him to go to sleep, but he wanted to be here with her.

“If you could build your dream project tomorrow,” she whispered, “what would it be?”

“I want to build a home for a family that has these amazing spaces for the kids, but also these great spaces for the adults. Something with indoor and outdoor living, but I think about the kids' spaces with these amazing nooks for forts and built-in bunk beds. The kind of spaces that can grow with the family.” Shifting slightly, he held her closer. “I want to build a house that thinks of everything.”

“Mmm…that sounds amazing. And expensive,” she said around a yawn. “But mostly amazing. Like those coastal houses where families gather for their summer vacations with all the kids and grandkids, and there’s always a giant bunk room for the grandkids. Typically, there’s a nautical theme—lots of navy blue and white—and it looks so inviting that you can easily imagine yourself there.”

“Exactly. On the flip side, I would love to tinker with the idea of a tiny home—something that has everything you need and the space is utilized perfectly. Something that proves you can have luxury even in a small space.”

“That’s what I need in the gingerbread house. Not the luxury part, but to have the space utilized better. It was built for practicality, but I’m outgrowing it.” Another yawn. “Plus, if it gets too big, it will be that much harder to transport when I need it for an event.” And yet another yawn. “Still…that’s the dream.”

She snuggled closer and Tristan knew she was just about asleep. “Goodnight,” he whispered.

Humming softly, she whispered back, “Goodnight.”