A Dash of Christmas Page 2

  “Yes, I get it. You’re tired. Your restaurants don’t open until lunch time, Carter, and I’ve visited you often enough to know what a typical day is like for you.”

  He wasn’t sure if that was working for or against him at the moment.

  “So…”

  “So I found someone to help with the cookbook project,” she said. “Someone who has looked at everything you’ve sent in and knows exactly what we’re looking for and will be able to work with you one on one to make this the kind of cookbook we can all be proud of.”

  He was blind in one eye from the pain in his temple.

  “Mom, I don’t think I have time to sit down with whoever this is. They’ll have to make an appointment with me—you have my assistant’s number—and if I have the time, I’ll make it work. I’ve already told you the next few weeks are going to be crazy for me!”

  “You won’t have to worry,” his mother said sweetly. “It won’t be intrusive, and really, you’ll hardly know she’s there.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that.

  Carter was just about to comment when his phone beeped with an incoming call. Looking at the screen, he saw it was the general contractor for the new restaurant. With a sigh, he said, “Mom, I need to go. The contractor is beeping in. I’ll talk to you during the week, okay?”

  “But Carter, I didn’t get to explain—”

  “No time right now. For this guy to be calling at ten on a Friday night, it can’t be good. I love you!” He quickly disconnected before she could say anything else, and for the next fifteen minutes got caught up confirming meeting schedules for Tuesday. When he finally hung up and placed his phone on the seat beside him, Carter was surprised to see they were still at least twenty minutes from his destination.

  “Gotta love New York traffic on a Friday night,” he murmured. With his mind racing from the two conversations, he had no idea how his brain was ever going to shut off.

  Picking his phone up, he tapped out a text to his assistant not to put any calls through or accept any appointments for anyone having to do with the cookbook project. He knew it was childish and that he couldn’t put it off forever, but he also knew there was enough on his plate to get through before dealing with this.

  Phone still in hand, Carter passed the time catching up on the news. As odd as it seemed, reading national and world news worked to clear his mind in ways little else did. If he were at home or at one of his restaurants, cooking would be the way to go. Hell, he’d created some of his most famous dishes while stressed out and using cooking as a distraction. But since that wasn’t an option right now, digital news it was.

  Politics. Pass.

  Sports. None of his teams were playing.

  Finance. Not in the mood.

  And that was when he saw it—the story that had been popping up in his news feed regularly for weeks now.

  Emery Monaghan.

  Well, the story was more about her fiancé than Emery herself, but…

  Carter shook his head as yet another picture of the less-than-happy-looking couple appeared. He’d known Emery since elementary school, and with their last names being so close in spelling, all through middle and high school they’d sat next to each other in homeroom. She was smart and outgoing and—

  A complete pain in his ass.

  Of course, that didn’t mean she deserved what she was going through.

  Her douchebag fiancé? Yeah. That guy deserved it all, and more.

  Unable to help himself, Carter scanned the story, which reported how more women had come forward and accused the guy of inappropriate and unwanted sexual advances. It filled him with disgust. Where did guys get off doing this sort of thing? When had this become the norm? And what did it say for society that this was being brought to light with more and more frequency?

  Carter’s curiosity about Emery, however, was piqued. Where was she, and how was she handling all of this? There weren’t any new pictures of the two of them—any photos used were from months ago. Even when he’d run into the two at his father’s funeral last year, neither had looked particularly happy.

  And not just because it was a funeral.

  Either way, the article said little about her except that no one had seen her since the story broke. No doubt she’d had no choice but to go into hiding to avoid the media. Carter snorted with disgust. That wasn’t going to be easy. It wasn’t often that someone could completely slip off the radar and go undetected in this day and age. No doubt she was holed up in her own home or with a friend or family member.

  “That’s got to suck,” he said and focused on the picture again. With a small smile, he realized Emery still looked exactly the same. Her dark hair was long and straight, she wore little makeup—not that she needed it—and her classic sense of style hadn’t changed. Emery Monaghan reminded him of Audrey Hepburn. There was just something about her that drew you in. She had always been kind to everyone in school.

  Except to Carter.

  Yeah, all these years later and it still rankled.

  The girl had seemed to go out of her way for everyone in their school except him. Why? Maybe it was because he was just as smart as her but didn’t have to put in as much effort. And that wasn’t him bragging, it was just a fact. Academics came naturally to him but they weren’t nearly as important to him as they were to Emery. They had butted heads their entire school lives, right down to graduation day when she took the podium as valedictorian and he as class president.

  Tossing the phone aside, Carter closed his eyes. “This is definitely not helping me relax.”

  Sex, he thought, sex right now would be a great distraction. He eyed his phone and wondered if there was anyone he would consider calling. His last relationship had ended three months ago. Not that it mattered. Ivy lived in New Orleans and he was in New York, and hooking up with an ex is never a good idea. So that left—

  “Frustration,” he murmured. “Add frustration to the list.”

  “Sir?” the driver asked, meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror.

  “Sorry,” Carter said. “Just talking to myself.” He was saved from saying or thinking anything more as they pulled up to his building. He could almost feel his head hitting the pillow. Maybe a solid eight hours of sleep and nothing pressing to do tomorrow would help him unwind a bit.

  And then his stomach growled.

  There was no possibility of cooking, because there wasn’t anything stocked in the condo. When he came to the city, Carter always preferred to go shopping for fresh ingredients if he was going to make something himself. More times than not, however, he simply walked around until he found a restaurant to try. But just because he was in the city that never slept didn’t mean he didn’t need sleep.

  Climbing from the car, he tipped the driver, grabbed his luggage, and walked up to the doorman.

  “Good evening, Mr. Montgomery,” the man said with a tip of his hat. “It’s good to see you again.”

  Smiling, Carter responded, “Thanks, Seth. It’s good to be here.” He paused. “Hey, any recommendations for someplace that delivers?”

  The doorman studied him for a moment. “There is an amazing sushi place that just opened a couple of weeks ago that everyone is raving about. I know they deliver, but on a Friday night you may be waiting for a while.”

  Carter laughed softly. “Even at this hour?”

  Seth nodded. “I’m sure the place is still packed. Earlier tonight one of the residents mentioned the line being out the door.” He considered that. “The wait might be worth it. You know, if you’re into sushi.”

  It wasn’t one of his favorites, but right now, it did sound pretty good. Considering his options, he said, “Where’s it at?” Seth gave him the address. “Thanks. Keep an eye on my luggage and I’ll be back.”

  “I thought you wanted delivery?”

  Five minutes ago, h
e had. But once he stepped outside and breathed in the semifresh air, the idea of a little walk and some food had suddenly revived him. “After being in town cars in traffic and flying, it might be good to stretch my legs for a bit.” With a smile and a wave, Carter made his way up Park Avenue and hopefully towards a new favorite place to eat.

  * * *

  She might not have been a prisoner, but that didn’t mean Emery Monaghan wasn’t acting like one.

  Here it was, a Friday night, she was staying in one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in Manhattan—a place where she could easily blend into any crowd—and yet she was still afraid to go outside for any length of time.

  “Ugh… I have got to get over this,” she muttered as she looked out the window at the city below. Her view from the tenth floor showed busy sidewalks, and no doubt every single one of those people walking them was heading out for a night of food and fun, and what was she doing? Standing there in a pair of boy-shorts and a T-shirt, eating a microwaved frozen pizza.

  “Living the dream, Emery Grace,” she said to herself, stepping away from the window to grab another slice of pizza. Somewhere down in the city was some of the best pizza in the world, but here she was eating its lousy frozen cousin. “I loathe myself.”

  Yet she continued to eat three more slices.

  With a full belly, Emery considered what to do next—curl up on the couch and binge-watch something on Netflix or curl up in bed and binge-watch something on Netflix. Either way there would be crumbs, because by the second hour, she was going to want something to snack on. Never in her life had she been more thankful for her speedy metabolism than in this last month. The sheer amount of junk food she had consumed would have made any normal person easily gain twenty pounds. But Emery? If anything, she’d lost seven.

  It was the only thing she had to brag about, except…there was no one to brag to.

  Huffing out a breath, she collapsed on the couch and picked up the television remote. As soon as she clicked on the TV, she remembered why she was sticking strictly to Netflix.

  “More troubles for Congressman Derek Whitman,” the newscaster said. “It seems his alleged sexual advances to his staff may not be his only crimes.”

  Emery groaned and almost changed the channel.

  Clearly, she was a glutton for punishment because she had to hear what else was going on. Her mother had been calling for days begging her to come back and keep up appearances, and each time Emery had strongly declined.

  Then she stopped answering the phone.

  Part of her wondered if some of those ignored calls this morning had been to warn her of these new allegations.

  “Footage of the disgraced politician appeared online earlier today showing him out and about with a woman who has been identified as an Instagram lingerie model. The two are seen checking into a hotel in Atlantic City last month and not leaving for two days…”

  After that, Emery shut the television off and tossed the remote aside. A few weeks ago, she would have thrown the remote and anything else she could get her hands on. But now, she was numb to it all. It stung—that didn’t go away—but not in a way she could explain. Her relationship with Derek had died a slow, painful death over the last six months—when she thought there was only one affair. Once the story broke in the news about all of his disgusting ways? She couldn’t get away fast enough.

  Much to her parents’ chagrin.

  And Derek’s legal team’s.

  The exact moment they had shown up at her home and suggested she stand by her man was the exact moment Emery knew she needed to get the hell out of Dodge.

  And fast.

  As if dealing with her parents wasn’t bad enough, she had the smarmy lawyer trying to convince her to “do the right thing.” The way he’d looked at her had made her skin crawl, and once she had gotten all of them out of her house, she’d felt the need to run even more.

  And in a twist of fate, that evening she had gotten a call from a most unexpected acquaintance—Eliza Montgomery.

  The Montgomery family had been a part of her life since she was nine years old, and although they weren’t close friends, they were still a constant for her. Having moved back home last year to be closer to Derek and his office, she had found herself running into Eliza quite a bit. She’d gone to her husband’s funeral and Emery’s heart broke for the family.

  Even for Carter.

  But although they were cordial to one another that day, Emery had to admit to herself just how much it bugged her how good-looking Carter had gotten with age. And how much she resented how successful and confident he had grown while her own life was less than idyllic.

  Okay, it was pettiness, pure and simple, but there it was.

  Her entire life, Carter Montgomery had been a thorn in her side—he was arrogant to the point of obnoxious, yet people flocked to him. She’d had to work twice as hard for the same amount of attention and grades in school. It was maddening, the minimal effort he’d put into everything.

  But here she was, ready to work with him as a favor to his mother. She wanted to compare it to making a deal with the devil, but that wasn’t quite accurate. Basically, she’d made a less-than-desirable deal for the sake of her own peace of mind.

  Peace that would, no doubt, be hard to come by once Carter showed up here next week.

  “Not gonna think about it,” she said primly as she stood and stretched. In the kitchen, Emery cleaned up her dinner mess and half-heartedly wiped everything down. Cleaning was not something she enjoyed, and since it was only her here at the moment, she knew she could let it slide. On Sunday she’d put the effort into cleaning the place up before Carter arrived. “And if he has anything to say about it, I’ll tell him he can kiss my butt.”

  Feeling somewhat better, she roamed around the place as if some form of entertainment would magically appear.

  This is ridiculous. I should be able to go outside and walk around! With her decision made, Emery quickly changed into jeans and a hoodie before putting her hair up in a messy bun and sliding on the non-prescription glasses she used to disguise herself. Grabbing her phone, keys, and purse, she locked up and was in the elevator before she could change her mind.

  Down in the lobby, she was relieved to see the doorman talking to an older couple. The guy was nice enough but could be extremely chatty, and the last thing she wanted right now was to engage in conversation with him. No, right now she wanted to get out for some fresh air—as fresh as you could get in Manhattan—and maybe some ice cream for dessert.

  It wasn’t like she was going to skip out on dessert just because she went out for a walk.

  She was feeling depressed, not crazy.

  Slipping out the front entryway without detection, Emery turned to the right and began walking. The temperature was cool and she was glad she’d chosen a hoodie. It was mid-September and during the day it was unseasonably warm, but the temperatures definitely dipped once the sun went down. Either way, she was loving it.

  It didn’t take long for her to realize that waiting until this hour wasn’t the best way to kill time—all the good shops and boutiques were closed. Sure, she could find a random place to window shop, but to what end?

  She wished the Christmas displays were up. Every year people complained about how the holiday season started earlier and earlier—but right now she wished there were festive displays to look at to kill the time. Not only would it be a fantastic distraction, but she loved Christmas so much that it would have put her in a better frame of mind.

  Ugh. Think of something else.

  Food!

  Yeah, lately that had seemed to be her only form of distraction.

  There was no shortage of places to eat and it had her cursing her choice of frozen pizza for dinner. Right now she could be enjoying something infinitely better and killing time.

  And this is why I’m in the predicament
I’m currently in—I make the worst decisions.

  Hindsight and all that.

  Deciding to enjoy window shopping, Emery walked around for well over an hour before finally stopping to get herself a medium hot fudge sundae with cookies-and- cream ice cream. She took her dessert and joyfully dug in while heading back to the condo. The walk was spent with her focus primarily on the ice cream and only marginally on where she was going. Not that it mattered; she hadn’t gone particularly far—or even off the beaten path—she’d simply walked on the same side of the street for multiple blocks until she was ready to turn around.

  Yeah, you’re a rebel, Emery.

  As she approached the condo, she groaned when she spotted Seth standing by himself. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind he’d try to start a conversation with her, so she did the only thing she could—pulled out her phone and pretended to be on a call.

  When she got closer, she began talking.

  “Oh, I know, Mom, it’s crazy!” Emery said with a brief smile and wave at Seth as he opened the door for her. “I wish I knew. I honestly wish I knew.”

  The elevator was in sight and she felt mildly victorious when—

  “Oh, Miss Monaghan? I forgot to tell you—”

  But she didn’t let him finish.

  Actually, she pretended she hadn’t heard at all and practically dove into the elevator as soon as the doors opened.

  “Crisis averted,” she said, sliding her phone back into her purse and pulling out her keys.

  On the tenth floor, the elevator doors opened and she happily made her way to her door. Her ice cream had been yummy, the walk had felt good, and the fresh air would definitely be helpful in falling asleep.

  “Emery for the win,” she said, unlocking the door. Inside, she locked it back up then she kicked off her shoes and made her way to the bedroom. The fresh air really had done wonders for her, and as she stripped off her jeans and hoodie, she knew that if she slid between the sheets without doing anything else, she’d be asleep in no time.

  Still…some water wouldn’t hurt.