Chapter 19: Chapter 19

Instead of pouring her heart out to Dak Memory let him say, “That Ellie sure is something else.”

“Yes, she is.” Now that, she had no trouble voicing. “She is amazing, though. Really, it’s like she just happened to wander into my shop right when I needed her most.” Memory caught his eyes then, the thought that maybe Ellie wasn’t the only one who had done that flickering through her mind, but she didn’t let it stay.

“She definitely has a gift for timing,” he remarked. Memory wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, but she had an idea. “It’s too bad she has no family.”

“I know. But maybe that’s why she makes everyone else feel like they are her family.”

He nodded. “That’s a good point. I feel like I’ve known her for years, and I just met her yesterday.”

“Me, too.” Memory agreed, spinning her cup around between her fingers. It was already over half empty, and she was pretty sure he’d only taken two sips of his. “So where are you from?”

“Oh, uh, Chicago. Well, that’s where I live now.”

“Chicago? Gosh, I don’t know if I could stand to live in such a big city. Do you like it?” Memory didn’t know if she could stand to live anywhere but Christmas Falls, for that matter.

“Not really,” he almost sang. She grinned at him. “I prefer smaller towns. I grew up in Carmel, so....”

“Okay—so not too far from here. Not as small as Christmas Falls, but definitely no Chi-Town.”

“Exactly.”

“Why are you here?” She shook her head—that had come out a little rude, and she didn’t mean it that way at all. “That is, what brings you to town?”

“Work,” he said, keeping it simple. “I really like it here, though. There’s just something about this town I’ve never felt anywhere else before. I’ve been to lots of small towns, but this one just seems... welcoming. Like everyone who visits belongs here. Does that make any sense? Or do people who grow up here feel like most people do about their hometowns, like they just can’t wait to get out?”

“No, I love it here,” Memory assured him quickly. “I’ve always felt that way. Even when it isn’t Christmastime, it still feels like the spirit of Christmas sort of settles over all of us. Not that everyone is always kind to one another or anything like that, but we are a tight knit little community, and we watch out for one another. We welcome visitors and guests and will embrace anyone who joins us, so long as they understand our family values.” She hoped she didn’t sound too preachy, but thoughts of the conversation she’d had with her sister the day before lingered in her mind.

“I’ve gotten that impression,” Dak said, taking another sip of his drink. “Have you ever left Christmas Falls or have you lived here your whole life?”

“I went away to college, but I came back as soon as I graduated.”

He nodded, but she couldn’t tell if the slight widening of his eyes was due to the fact that he was surprised she’d gone to college or relieved that she had. “What did you study?”

“Business. I wanted to come back and optimize the shop.”

“How is that working out for you?”

Memory shook her head. “It was going great until Grandma died, and then....” She couldn’t finish that sentence without divulging way too much to a man she’d just met. “It’ll get better.”

“I’m sure it will.” His smile was confident, as if he really did believe she could fix the situation, even without knowing exactly what it was, which she appreciated.

“What do you do?” Memory raised her drink to her lips, deciding to finish off whatever was left in her cup.

Dak set his latte back on the table. “I’m a real estate developer.”

The liquid seemed to gush from her cup into her open mouth all at once as she inhaled too deeply, his statement making her gasp, and the next thing she knew, Memory was choking. Sputtering, she reached for a napkin out of the dispenser, desperately trying to keep from spitting latte all over herself and him. Somehow, she managed to get her mouth covered before any warm brown droplets dotted her light blue shirt.

“Are you okay?” Dak asked, pulling out a few more napkins and offering them to her.

She took them, nodding as she swallowed as much of the latte as she could and wiped away what was left. “I’m... fine.”

“Was it still hot?”

“No, no....” It had actually been a little cold. But that’s not what had made her choke. “A real estate developer?” she echoed, once she could talk again. Memory coughed a few times, wishing she had some water.

“Yeah...?”

Memory pressed her palm to her forehead, a rush of recognition leaving her feeling even more foolish than she had when she’d misspoken earlier and now that she’d almost spit up all over the table. “You’re... Dakota Brooks.”

“Yeah....”

Of course he was—Dak was short for Dakota. He was the real estate developer Kirsten had been telling her about the day before. No wonder he seemed to like their little town so much. It smelled like money. Memory inhaled deeply through her nose and tried not to show her emotions on her face, but he could tell something had shifted. He was staring at her with his perfect eyebrows arched over his sparkling brown eyes, and she hated the fact that he was both attractive and the root of all evil.

“Is everything okay, Memory?”

She shook her head and leaned back in her seat, fighting the urge to cross her arms. “My sister mentioned you yesterday. She said you’re in town scouting out properties, considering buying up some of our older homes and turning them into... profits.”

“Oh? Is that what she said?” His mouth turned down in a considerable frown as he contemplated Memory’s overly-honest explanation for her reaction. “And how does your sister know about me?”

“Her friend, Jen Ryder’s husband, Chet, went to college with you.”

“Okay, yeah, I know Chet.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. Memory shook her head—she should’ve known he was too good to be true. No one could be that good looking, funny, intelligent, and still be a good human—not in her experience anyway.

“So you’re under the impression I’m here to swoop into town, buy up a bunch of properties at unfair prices, and then somehow use those properties to change your hometown from this magical, friendly place to, what? The equivalent of a suburban Walmart or McDonalds?”

“Something like that,” she nodded, her head moving more adamantly than she intended. “Aren’t you?”

“No, no,” he protested, shaking his head as vigorously as she was nodding. “I don’t want to ruin the ambience of this quaint little village.”

“Oh, really? Then what do you think will happen if you open a string of hotels disguised as B and Bs? It’ll draw in a crowd of people who don’t want authentic experiences, people who just want to feel like they’re doing Christmas ‘right’. You may as well just open a theme park and call it Christmastown or something.”

“You sure seem to know an awful lot about me and all real estate developers, Memory,” Dak concluded, his head no longer shaking but his expression showing he was as disappointed in her as she was in him. “Who’s to say that I couldn’t come in here and actually make a difference? There are people who want to get out from underneath properties that have dropped in value or that they can’t afford to repair. A lot of the people who own those houses don’t even live here anymore.”

“But those of us who do don’t want to see any more of our beloved historic homes turned into monstrosities like the Gingerbread House Inn.”

Dak wrinkled his nose. “I visited the Gingerbread House Inn yesterday, and I agree with you. It’s way too much like a hotel to be called a bed and breakfast. Believe me, I’m not planning on doing anything like that.”

Memory stared at him for a moment, not sure whether she should trust him or not. It seemed like he really wanted her not to think he was a slime ball like the other developers who’d come to town recently, like the ones who’d bought the house in question for at least $50,000 less than Marvin Leitner had paid for it ten years ago. She didn’t have all the details, but people talked, and she’d heard more conversation about the Gingerbread House Inn in the last two days than she cared to think about. The same went for the Wenceslas, which would be opening soon.

“I should get back to the shop,” Memory said, suddenly realizing she’d been gone way too long and hoping Ellie wasn’t getting slammed with customers. She reached for her coat.

“I’ll walk you back,” Dak offered.

“Really, you don’t have to. I mean, if you wanna talk to Ellie, okay, but don’t feel like you have to. I’m sure you have things to do.”

He looked at her for a second, his hand on his coat but not putting it on yet while Memory slammed her arms into her sleeves a little too forcefully. “Memory, really, I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression.”

She forced a smile. “You seem like a really nice guy, Dak. Maybe I have.” She doubted it, though. It took a certain kind of person to be in the business he was in, and she imagined that sort of person had to be pretty good at not showing their true colors.

“Are you going to the tree lighting on Friday?”

His question completely caught her off guard. She was in the process of zipping her coat and almost zipped her shirt inside as she processed his question. Looking up, she tried to read his expression and got nowhere. “Why do you ask?”

“I’d like it if you’d go with me. I’d be happy to show you that I actually like Christmas—and small towns—especially this one.” He shrugged. “And I like you. Or I did anyway.” He raised his eyebrows and lowered them quickly, as if he were echoing the shrug with his face.

One side of her mouth pulled up in a smirk she couldn’t control. “You want to show me that you’re not the real estate developer-Grinch I think you are by taking me to the tree lighting ceremony?”

“I mean, I was going anyway. If you were going, we could stand near each other so you could witness just how much gusto I put into my Christmas caroling.”

Memory giggled and hated herself for it. “I don’t know.... I’m not much of a singer.”

“Anyone can sing Christmas carols.”

“That’s not true!” She found herself pointing at him and put her finger away. “Christmas carols are hard. Some of them anyway.”

“Fine. Don’t sing. Just listen.”

Something told her he wasn’t just talking about listening to the music. Memory inhaled and held it, realizing the normal excuses she used when someone asked her out—that she had the store to worry about—wouldn’t work anymore because Ellie would be thrilled to cover the store Saturday morning if she knew Memory would be a little late because she had a date with Dak—not that this was a date. Or was it? She shouldn’t ask that. “Is this a date?”

A lopsided grin took over his face. “I don’t know. Is it?”

“No, it’s not.” He didn’t even live here, and if she had her way he never would. And even if he had his way, he probably never would. He’d stay in Chicago and let some of his minions run things in silly little Christmas Falls.

“Okay. It’s not a date. It’s just two people standing near a tree, close to each other, listening and singing, and enjoying the lights and the spirit of the season.”

“All right. I’ll go,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him as she wound her scarf around her neck.

“Then... I’ll see you there.”

Memory slid out of the booth. “I’ll tell Ellie you said you’ll see her at the inn.”

“Thanks.” He hadn’t moved, and she was glad he wasn’t going to be walking her back because she needed a few moments to process all of this. “See you later, Memory.”

“See ya, Dakota.” She didn’t mean for his name to come out of her mouth as if she were calling him out for intentionally lying to her, but it did just the same. He looked slightly wounded, and she softened her tone and said, “Thanks again for the latte.”

He pressed his lips together and nodded, and she took a deep breath, headed to Ellie in hopes of an explanation or two.