Baby's First Christmas Page 9

  “I haven’t heard anyone call it that in years!” Holly laughed, smiling even deeper as she leaned over the table.

  “Oh yeah. You know, I’ve been coming here before you added the and spa to the name,” I reminded her, smiling as I thought back to our childhood, running through the halls of the hotel while Mrs. Foster moved from one room to the next, changing the beds and emptying the trash cans.

  As young business owners, the Fosters had to do everything to keep the business running, much like my parents. While my mother was a stay-at-home mom, she also kept the books for Hatch Towing, always organizing all my father’s documents, paying bills, issuing invoices and filing the taxes every year.

  It was remarkable to see how things had changed for the better, and now Holly was dedicated to taking her parents’ dream even further. Warm with pride, my chest rose and fell slowly as I forced a deep breath. Just looking at Holly was enough to raise my blood pressure. The tension between us too strong to deny, but too dangerous to engage.

  Over the course of the next hour, we enjoyed the freshest fennel and orange salad I’d ever tasted before Pierre brought out a tender encrusted lamb dish, paired with roasted potatoes and a mushroom gravy that left me wanting more.

  Slipping between business and personal, Holly occasionally jotted down notes in a bright pink leather-bound notebook. While she liked most of Pierre’s combinations, she wasn’t afraid to give him feedback, suggesting alterations and musing about wine pairings. Again, I found myself in awe, questioning if I even knew her anymore.

  She was so much more than the young girl I fell for, even more amazing than I thought. What had begun as a one-night stand had turned to an intense physical attraction, but now I found myself admiring her more than anything.

  “Did you decide on the dessert?” she asked Pierre after the staff cleared our dishes again.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he nodded.

  “Let me guess…” Holly twisted her lips, squinting her beautiful eyes, pretending to be in deep thought. “The lavender ice cream.”

  “Yes!” Pierre smiled brightly.

  “I knew it! That is your signature, Pierre! You have to share that wonderful recipe with the world!” she leaned across the table, gently tapping the back of his hand as he nervously picked at his nails.

  Suddenly, he sat taller, his chin held high as he nodded along at Holly’s praise. It was simple yet remarkable how she too had picked up on his nerves. And to watch her go out of her way to put him at ease… it was class personified.

  She was incredible.

  Chapter Thirteen

  HOLLY

  “THIS WAS wonderful,” Jude shook Pierre’s hand again.

  It was obvious he was impressed, and I hoped my pride wasn’t as obvious as it felt. The restaurant had been a long time coming, and I had spent many long nights hoping to build a menu that could rival those of the big city.

  Pierre was my secret weapon because he had a flair about him that set us above the competition, offering a dining experience that Savannah lacked. Although I didn’t tell him, I was very interested in Jude’s opinion, because he was the only person I knew who actually dined in the types of restaurants I hoped to emulate.

  “I am so happy you enjoyed!” Pierre smiled, his accent stronger now that he was relaxed.

  With the staff already clearing the table and returning to their designated shifts, it was just Jude and me left in the room that suddenly felt too private. My fingertips itched to race across his body, feeling his strength beneath my touch.

  Whenever I was around Jude, I felt a magnetic pull I didn’t want to end. Twice I’d scooted my chair closer to his, and every time our fingers happened to touch, I felt the electricity between us. Sure, there was something there, but I reminded myself it was just a temporary fun.

  Between the business and Chris, I barely had a personal life anymore, so Jude was nothing more than a welcomed distraction. He was fun and exhilarating, but in less than two weeks, he would be on a flight back to his life in New York.

  I was determined not to beat myself up over how good I felt being around him. I deserved the nice rush, and as long as we didn’t cross any lines, there would be no harm to anyone. These were the ways I rationalized the rush of emotions I felt when his hand gripped my knee, his blue eyes peering into my soul.

  “Holly, I am so proud of you! I can’t believe how you’ve put all of this together!” he shook my knee excitedly, beaming with the pride of a mentor.

  “It’s been a process,” I said after a brief pause, needing to gather myself. With Jude’s hands on my body, it was hard to think clearly.

  “Well, you’re doing great,” he smiled. We were drifting back into one of those long stare downs where I found it difficult to turn away from his gaze, when Jude snatched his hand from my knee, his eyes focused on the doorway.

  Following his gaze, I turned to see Dylan walking down the hall, carrying Chris’ car seat. It was obvious my brother was in a rush, and relief set in his eyes once he spotted me.

  “Don’t be mad,” he called from the doorway.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, rising to my feet with concern as he approached.

  “I know I said I’d watch him all afternoon, but I need to check on an issue with the suite renovation. Just keep him for an hour,” Dylan spoke over my shoulder as I lifted Chris from his car seat.

  “How ya doing, big man? Is your uncle dropping you like a sack of potatoes?” I playfully spoke to Chris, running my fingers through his soft curls.

  “Don’t say that. I’d never leave my little man. I’ll be back in an hour,” Dylan spoke more to Chris than me. “How was the food?” he turned his attention to Jude, slapping hands with him before pulling him into a hug.

  “Amazing!”

  “I already know!” Dylan smiled, walking backwards as he continued. “Hey, we’re going to get that beer. I’ve just got to handle this crazy to-do list my annoying little sister has for me,” he teased.

  “Don’t worry, handle your business,” Jude nodded. Watching the two share a smirk before Dylan turned to leave the room, I felt a pull of emotion in my chest.

  Before I could decipher whether it was love for their bond, or guilt for how I had woven myself between the said bond, Jude was over my shoulder, rubbing the back of his index finger along Chris’ hand.

  “Hey, buddy,” he whispered, his voice kind and gentle.

  Chris instantly looked at Jude, struggling to up hold his head as he wrapped his tiny hand around Jude’s finger. My heart melted. His smile sent my mind into overdrive.

  He tilted his head, staring at Chris in a way that set my paranoia over the edge.

  “May I hold him?” Jude asked.

  “Uh, yeah,” I finally murmured as he carefully took Chris.

  “Don’t worry. I used to watch Jessie all the time, I know how to hold a baby,” he said to me, though his eyes were trained on Chris. “You’ve got hair just like Jessie had when she was a baby,” Jude smiled, tapping Chris’ nose with his fingertip.

  Amused, Chris gurgled sweetly, waving his hands until he gripped around Jude’s hand. “You even have dimples like her.”

  Jude was talking to himself, as if he were putting puzzle pieces together, but I tried to convince myself I was overreacting. I had never noticed the similarities before, but now looking at Chris I remembered Jessie as a toddler, and knew they were nearly identical. Chris’ blue eyes and button nose were straight from Jude’s face, and glancing from one to the other, I knew I’d never be able to unsee it as I awkwardly reached for Chris.

  “You know what, Jude? I just remembered I need to go. I have a massage appointment booked and I have to make sure the room is ready.”

  It was bullshit, and the moment I heard the words, I knew Jude would see right through it. Deciding I could face the consequences of my actions later, I took Chris from Jude’s arms, picked up the baby bag beside the car seat, holding his head to my shoulder as he craned his neck to foll
ow Jude.

  “You need to go right now?” Jude asked, his eyes still on Chris.

  “Yes. Now. Sorry,” My sentences were choppy, as I struggled to form a complete thought with panic mode going full throttle.

  “You should go. I’ll call you,” I lied.

  Of course I wouldn’t be calling him after any massage appointment, because there was no appointment. There was just a familiar glance that only a father can give a son, and it was too revealing for me to ignore. Jude was too easy to read, and with every step I took, I grew more certain of my suspicions that he had his own suspicions.

  “Ms. Foster? Should we close down the conference hall?” A voice from behind the front desk called out, but I couldn’t pause my stride. Instead, I completely ignored the question, waving one hand in the air as a dismissal as I held Chris with the other.

  By the time I made it into the spa, my heart was racing so fast, I had to grip onto the desk for stability. Frowning with concern, Leann turned to me with her hand still on the mouse as she scrolled through the list of spa appointments for the week.

  “What’s wrong, Holly?”

  “He knows.”

  I watched the look morph from confusion to disbelief in a few short seconds, her hands coming to her mouth. No more words were necessary, and we stood there in silence for a full minute before Leann wrapped her hand around my wrist, pulling me into a private room without a word.

  “What happened?” her voice barely a whisper.

  “I don’t know,” I shook my head.

  “Okay, give me Chris. Calm down,” she reached for my son, carefully taking him into her arms as she spoke calmly.

  “We finished the tasting and Dylan came in with Chris. It was like he… Jude… knew from the second he laid eyes on him. I could just… I don’t know. I could tell,” I shrugged, failing to find the words to describe my intuition.

  “Did he say anything?” Leann asked, gently tapping her hand on Chris’ back as she rocked his small body.

  “He was pointing out all these similarities. Saying Chris has Jessie’s hair. Her dimples,” I remembered, shaking my head as I again questioned how I could have ignored such obvious genetic traits.

  “Uh, duh. I told you that,” Leann shrugged. Cutting my eyes to her, I began to pace the room as she made no attempt to soften her ‘I told you so.’

  “What? I did! He has raspberry blond curls and dimples, for crying out loud!” she said in a loud whisper.

  “He knows, Leann,” I repeated, feeling a world of guilt on my shoulders.

  “Well, you had to think he would figure out at some point.”

  “No. No, I didn’t,” I admitted, looking over at my best friend before taking back Chris.

  Chris had become the only thing that mattered in my life. Whenever I thought of Jude, I just wanted what was best for Chris, and I thought that was a happy home. He was living his life, and I had to do what was necessary to make sure Chris was taken care of. That left little time to daydream the perfect scenario for Jude ever finding out the truth.

  “Well, it’s not the worst thing that can happen, Holly. Maybe it will be good for him,” Leann argued.

  “You know that’s not the truth. The last thing I wanted to do was bring a halt to Jude’s fun life in New York. You know how conservative his family is. They’ll want him to quit everything and take care of Chris.” I sighed, knowing there was no way around the insurmountable guilt Jude would feel if he knew Chris was his son.

  “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe that’s what Jude would want to do?” she asked, and her words felt like new ideas. It was a thought I’d never allowed myself to consider.

  Up until a few days prior, I’d struggled with the idea that Jude thought of me as nothing more than a one-night stand. The fantasy of us living happily ever after was always a fairy tale in my mind, never something I thought he could ever want.

  But then I remembered the way he looked at me and the rush I felt whenever we touched. His kiss wasn’t that of a man who didn’t care. No, it was obvious that Jude felt something for me. I could taste it on his tongue.

  But all that could change if he learned of what I’d done. Could he ever forgive me for keeping such a secret? The more I questioned it the more certain I grew that I didn’t want to find out.

  Things had just begun to settle between us, and after a perfect afternoon of food tasting with Jude, I didn’t want everything to explode in my face the way it had.

  “Jude will never forgive me,” I finally answered, voicing my deepest fear. From the empathetic look on her face, I could tell my admission was no revelation. Leann wrapped her arms around me, holding me tightly as I held onto my son, unsure of what the future held for us.

  Chapter Fourteen

  JUDE

  “THE THING about your generation is, you don’t know anything about commitment,” my father said with a tone of disappointment. We were at Hatch Towing, and as always he was giving me a piece of his mind as he went about his workday a bit slower than I remembered.

  “Is that so?” I asked facetiously. Secretly, I enjoyed aggravating my father. It was my way of making sure he didn’t lose his sense of humor.

  “Of course it’s so! Look at the damn divorce rate!” he hollered, huffing as his right hand pressed into his neck.

  “Actually, the divorce rate is falling, Dad. Many of my contemporaries aren’t making the same mistakes your generation did.”

  He looked at me and smirked. Was I being too smart for my own good again?

  “Are your shoulders bothering you?” I asked, wondering about his back pain.

  “No. No, I’m fine,” he answered quickly, dropping his hand to his side as he picked up the phone on his desk. “Arlene, I’m not going to need lunch today… Yes… Yes… Well, fine. Schedule it for Thursday… Okay, great.”

  “How is Ms. Arlene?” I asked when my father placed the receiver back into the holder. She had served as his assistant since he started Hatch Towing, and my mom often said they wouldn’t have made it without her.

  “She’s great. You know, she’s from my generation, and we’re about loyalty. I always knew I could count on Arlene, because she wasn’t going to go jumping at the next best offer she got. It was about a commitment to something, and when she signed on, I knew I could trust her!” he explained, his voice raising as his passion grew.

  “I see. She looks like she’s having a tough time with the new system,” I nodded at the glass window.

  Ms. Arlene, who was at least sixty, was squinting as she slowly clicked the mouse, her face twisted with frustration. It was obvious my father’s business had exceeded the expertise of the team who started the family company, but the Hatch pride made it too difficult for my father to step away.

  It had been years since his daily presence was necessary at the facility, but that didn’t stop him from rising before the sun every morning to oversee every delivery and departure for the day. From his watch tower above everything, my father monitored his business like a hawk.

  “Arlene is like me. I don’t need all these gadgets. Your generation needs help, son. But we old timers, we know just what we’re doing,” he tapped his fingertip to his temple.

  “Well, I know you need to take it easy on those steps,” I nodded to his office door.

  As a child, my father’s office was the coolest thing in the world. The glassed-in room overlooked the entire garage. What used to be nothing more than a small lot, holding less than twenty cars, was now the largest tow company in the county. At any time, Hatch Towing could have anywhere from two- to five-hundred vehicles held for multiple reasons.

  Years of networking had led to a few governmental contracts that secured my family’s future a decade ago. The business grew faster than my father could manage, but thankfully he was smart enough to bring on a team who now effectively ran the business without him.

  Glancing down the narrow steps my father was forced to climb to reach his office, I remembered the strain
on his face as he made the climb earlier. Mornings with my mother had become my time to catch up on all the dirt on my family members, and it didn’t take her long to reveal my dad’s ongoing ailments.

  In addition to his long-standing back pain, my mother said my father had recently begun to experience pain in his joints, especially his knees. Knowing this, my mom already made inquiries about my father moving his office to a larger ground floor space overlooking the offices of his sales representatives.

  “I’m not going to be coming to this office much longer,” he shrugged.

  “Did Ms. Arlene tell you about the move?” I questioned. My father hated change, so my mom didn’t want him to know anything about the plans until they were completed.

  My father wasn’t paying attention. “You’re moving again? Back home?” His eyes lit up as his blue eyes peered across the office.

  “No, I meant… Never mind,” I shook my head, desperately wanting to back out of the conversation.

  “That’s what I mean. You kids don’t know what you want. You think you want this long-term outcome, but you’re not willing to put in what’s necessary to make it happen,” he pointed his finger at me as he spoke.

  “When have I ever shied away from hard work?” I asked, my lip curled into a slight challenge.

  “What do you want to do with this banker thing?” he asked, the disapproving tone undeniable. My father had refused to learn anything about my career in equity sales. Instead, he insisted on calling me a banker, unable to understand what exactly I did regardless of how many times I explained it.

  “Actually, I’ve just been offered a promotion,” I smirked, unprepared to share the news just yet. “I wanted to tell you and Mom together. I’m really excited about it. I’d oversee an entire division. It’s a big step.” I tried to hide my smile.

  There would always be a young boy deep down inside me, wanting to impress my father. As an entrepreneur, he’d always instilled self-sufficiency in my sister and me, and I wanted him to know I was striving to set myself up just as he had taught us.