Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 70037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“You’re not fine.” He shakes his head, not looking any less pissed.
“Okay, you’re right. I’m not. But it’s Christmas, and I don’t want my mom upset.”
“Right.” His jaw ticks, and I watch him force his body to relax as my mom comes to the table, handing him his glass of tea, and he thanks her before she leaves again. “It will be okay.” He leans over, kissing the side of my head, and I nod as my mom comes back in holding two glasses of wine.
“Let’s eat.” She hands me my glass, then starts to uncover the dishes. I reach for the plate with the ham on it and take two pieces, putting them on Gaston’s plate before taking a piece for myself.
“He’s very handsome,” Mom says under her breath as she hands me the basket of rolls.
“He is, and he can also hear you,” I point out, and her eyes fly to Gaston, who I hear laugh as he gives my thigh a warm, reassuring squeeze under the table.
“You’re very handsome,” she informs him.
“Thank you, Dorothy.” I hear the humor in his tone.
“I hope, with you in my daughter’s life, she’ll finally do what she told me she was going to do weeks ago and hire someone to help her out so she can stop working so much and start having fun again.”
“Mom,” I warn her.
Not surprisingly, she ignores me and continues talking to Gaston like I’m not even here while placing a scoop of mashed potatoes on her plate before passing me the bowl.
“I don’t know why she hasn’t hired someone to help her already. Her bakery has been thriving since it opened.” She glances proudly in my direction as I put mashed potatoes on both our plates. “She’s even been written up in the paper a few times and won a couple awards for local businesses.”
“Really?” Gus asks, and I turn my head to meet his gaze over my shoulder.
“It’s really not that big of a deal. There’s only a few other bakeries in the area—”
“It’s a big deal,” Mom cuts in, and my eyes go to her. “You won first place two years in a row. The businesses you were up against are established in this area. They have been here for years, and you still beat them by a landslide.”
“I didn’t beat them.” I shake my head as I motion to the green bean casserole and silently ask if Gus wants some, and when he nods, I place a scoop on his plate. “It wasn’t even a competition. It was just a few people from the area who voted for their favorite places to eat or get a cookie and a cup of coffee.”
“As you can see, my daughter is oblivious to her talent,” Mom states with an annoyed sigh.
“I’m seeing that,” Gaston agrees with quiet warmth, making me want to kiss him.
With my mom present, I ignore that urge and pin her in place with a look.
“Well,” I say sassily, “you’ll be happy to know I have an ad going out in the paper and online this weekend, and I plan on posting a help wanted ad on the window of the shop after I open back up. Hopefully, with that, I’ll get some inquiries and be able to hire someone full time before the New Year.”
“Maybe your Gus is an alien,” Mom mumbles to me with wide, surprised eyes, and he laughs before clearing his throat.
“Your daughter is a smart woman,” Gus says, gaining my mom’s attention, and I watch her eyes soften before I turn to look at him as he continues to speak. “As the owner of three businesses—a club I purchased straight out, and two bars that I acquired after they went belly-up—I only respect her more for not taking on more than she knew she could handle.” His expression fills with pride as his fingers around the top of my thigh tighten in a comforting gesture. “I agree even more after what you’ve just said that she could, and can, hire someone full time to help, but I respect that she’s followed her gut and taken things slow. A lot of people get caught up in momentary success and assume things will keep growing for them. Not always, but on occasion, that doesn’t happen, and when it does, they’re left trying to figure out how to pay their employees, along with all their other expenses. In the end, they end up losing all they’ve built.”
“I never thought of it like that,” Mom says quietly with respect in her tone, and I find her looking at me with a whole new light in her eyes. “Obviously, you know what you’re doing, but as your mom, you have to understand I want what’s best for you. Not financially, but emotionally.”
“I know,” I tell her, and she reaches out with her hand, capturing mine on the table, and then she leans toward me, kissing the side of my head.