Chapter 27: Chapter 27

Dak didn’t respond to that. “I also leased an office space for the next few weeks, so maybe I can get a little more done. The inn is a great place to stay, but it’s not exactly suitable for work.”

Memory raised an eyebrow. “What office space?”

A crooked grin spread across his face, and he held her gaze for a second. “I’m not sure I should tell you.”

“Why?” Before he answered, she put two and two together. “The empty building next to my shop?” Dak nodded, and Memory smirked back at him, shaking her head. “You just can’t leave me alone can you?” She was teasing, but she felt a rush of color come to her face.

“Apparently not,” he replied, still grinning at her. “Don’t worry—I won’t be there too often. I just needed a place to set up a desk and keep my files organized.”

“Files? You have actual paper files on the houses here?”

“A lot of the information I have is on my laptop, but sometimes it’s nice to look at things on paper.”

She could understand that, but she didn’t know what else to say. It might be nice having him next door—if he wasn’t a constant distraction. “Did you tell Ellie?”

“Of course. She thought it was a lovely idea.”

“I’m not surprised to hear that.”

Julie brought the check and asked, “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Dak said, grabbing it up off of the table as Memory reached for it. “You can’t be serious.”

“What? You bought the lattes.”

“So? I asked you to come to the tree lighting with me, and I asked you to dinner. I’m not going to let you pay.”

“I told you this isn’t a date.” She hoped she didn’t sound too harsh, but it wasn’t one—was it? She thought she’d made that pretty clear.

He pulled his wallet out and went about making sure the entire bill was covered, and from what Memory could tell, also left a generous tip. “Whatever you want to call it, Memory, I’ve got it.”

“Because it’s been such a pleasure to spend the last few hours in my company?” she teased.

Dak laughed, setting the money and bill on the side of the table so Julie could grab it on her way back by. “Something like that....”

She snickered, wondering what in the world possessed the man to stay seated this long without running out the front door and getting as far away from her as possible. “You’re not so bad—when you’re not Mr. Real Estate Developer.” She lowered her voice and did an impression of a haughty older gentlemen.

“I don’t sound like that, do I?” He laughed again, still shaking his head at her. “You’re not too bad either, when you’re not Miss Defender of Christmas Falls Against All Threats of Evil.” He didn’t bother to change his voice, but Memory found herself laughing anyway, though she wanted to be shocked and appalled.

“I take that job very seriously, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, I know. I know,” he said reaching for his coat as Julie stopped by and picked up the bill.

“I’ll get your change.”

“Keep it,” he said. She glanced down at her hand and back up at him. “Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you,” Julie grinned, and then to Memory, she said, “I really like your new friends.”

“Me, too,” Memory admitted. “Have a good night, Julie.” She pushed her arms into her coat, thinking it would be a cold walk back to the shop and her car.

While Memory zipped her coat and wrapped her scarf around her neck, putting on her hat and gloves, Dak stared at her. “Sorry,” she said, imagining she was taking too long.

“No, you’re fine. I was just going to ask you... are you competing in the snowman building contest tomorrow?”

Memory raised an eyebrow. “No, not this year. I usually competed with Grandma. I mean, she was usually my partner. Except for last year. She didn’t feel well, so Lorelei and I were a team. Our Princess Snowwoman got honorable mention.”

“Sounds like you know how to design a snowman.”

“Nah, I think the judges just thought Lorelei was cute. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I was thinking about entering, but I don’t have a partner.” She stared at him for a second, wondering if she had reached the conclusion he was getting at. “Do you want a partner?”

“Oh, I, uh... I would. But... I promised Kirsten I’d watch Anson so she and Maison could compete. They’re very competitive. Dad watched him last year, but Lorelei wanted him to be her partner this time, so I’ll have the baby.”

He nodded, and Memory felt awful. It might’ve been fun to be his partner in the snowman contest. At least, they’d be so busy building, they wouldn’t have time to argue about real estate. “I’ll give you a ride back to your car.”

“That’s okay,” Memory said, waving him off as she slid out of the booth. “I can manage.”

“Memory, it’s freezing outside, and we’re several blocks from the square. I’m not going to just let you walk home in the dark by yourself.”

“I’ll be fine.” He was up now, too, standing in front of her, barring her way to the door, not that she was about to rush him and try to escape.

“I can give you a ride, or I can walk with you....”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll follow you....”

She couldn’t help but grin at him. “Fine. A ride would be nice.”

Dak nodded once and pulled his car keys out of his pocket. He clicked a few buttons, and then gestured toward the door. Memory stepped past him, and he followed. She saw a few people she knew and said hello to them on the way out, hoping none of them asked her dad later who she was with, though she was certain they would. Trying to put that worry aside, she made sure her scarf was wrapped tightly and waited while Dak pushed the door open for her.

A blast of cold air set her cheeks aflame, and she was glad she’d chosen not to walk. It felt like the temperature had dropped twenty degrees while they were inside, and it was beginning to snow. Soft flakes cascaded from the heavens, a fine, delicate layer of down fluttering from the sky.

“Fresh material for the snowman makers,” Dak noted, pulling gently on her arm and leading her down the sidewalk, through the diner parking lot to a public lot next door.

She could tell which SUV was his because it was running, and she found herself gaping as he went around to open the passenger side door for her. “Wait—is this a rental?” she asked, staring at the gray Mercedes.

“Uh, no,” Dak said, holding the door open for her. “It was a graduation present. From my parents.”

Memory caught his eyes for a minute, hers wide, but managed to move past him and slide into the plush leather seat. He closed the door and came around to the other side, getting in, while she clicked her seatbelt. “This is the nicest car I’ve ever been in,” she said, checking out the panel. “I bet it cost more than my dad’s house.”

He backed out of the spot, but didn’t say anything, and she felt bad for making a big deal out of it. Dak was almost out of the parking lot when he said, “I only drive it when the weather’s bad. I prefer a smaller car.”

Memory glanced behind her. It was a lot larger than her Honda, but it wasn’t exactly a Suburban. “What kind of car do you have? A Lamborghini?” She giggled, but then, when he didn’t say anything, she asked. “It’s not—is it?”

“No,” he smirked. “It’s definitely not a Lamborghini.”

“Probably a Civic or a Malibu.”

He laughed but still didn’t answer her initial question. When he caught her staring at him out of the corner of his eye, he said, “It’s a... Ferrari.”

“You’re kidding! You’re not kidding.... Wow. Okay.” Memory turned her head so she was looking straight ahead. “You’re gonna love my Accord then.”

Once again, he was quiet, and Memory tried to wrap her mind around exactly how different their two worlds really were. She had known he had some money, but she had no idea just how much of it until that moment. She didn’t want it to change her opinion of him one way or another, but she couldn’t help but wonder what in the world he was doing with her....

“Where are you parked?” he asked, approaching the shop.

“You can just pull into a spot in front of the store,” she said. “I have to go in and get a few things.”

“Where’s your car?” Concern peppered his voice, and she reminded herself he lived in Chicago, where people weren’t safe the majority of the time.

“It’s in the back, in one of the spots in the alley.”

“The dark alley, where the dumpsters are located?”

“That would be the one.”

Dak pulled to a stop in front of the shop but kept his eyes on her for a moment, letting her know he didn’t approve of her walking back there by herself. There were still quite a few people milling around, looking at the displays in shop windows and visiting, and it was only a little past 8:00. She knew she’d be perfectly safe but had no idea how to persuade him that was the case. “Thanks for dinner. And standing by me. At the ceremony.”

“Thanks for agreeing to both.”

“I’ll probably see you tomorrow. Even if I can’t do the snowman thing.” Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and even though she thought it was rude to do so, she felt the urge to pull it out for some reason.

It was a text from Ellie. “Good news—I’m going to watch the baby tomorrow! So if you can find a partner, you can compete in the snowman contest. I know your sister is looking to win—wouldn’t it be great to bring her down a notch?” She included at least one too many laughing face emojis.

Memory stuck her phone back in her pocket and noticed Dak was looking at his, too. She took a deep breath, not even bothering to try to lie to him. “Ellie?”

“The one and only.”

She shook her head, and they both chuckled quietly. That woman was bound and determined. “So... I guess we’re building a snowman together.”

“Unless you can come up with a pretty creative excuse as to why you’re suddenly too busy to do so, even though I know you’re no longer babysitting.”

Memory giggled. “No, I’m not that good of a liar. Okay—Grandma and I had talked about doing a dog walker. It’s the only idea we could come up with that no one had done yet. We were going to get some of Lorelei’s plush animals and some leashes, and then when, we were done, we were going to donate the leashes to the animal shelter.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” he said with a shrug.

“Cool. It might inspire some other people to donate to the shelter, too. The city had to cut funding a few years ago, and those poor babies don’t have nearly enough supplies. I wish I had more time to volunteer, but....” She looked at the shop. “I don’t. I try to donate food and toys, things like that, at least once a month, though.”

“We need to think of a way to make sure it’s obvious our snowman is a shelter volunteer then.”

“That’s a great idea. I’m sure we can come up with something.” She wished she had more time to think about that. She’d spent a lot of time last year before her grandma had to bow out of the contest thinking about how she’d build the snowman, but she hadn’t considered making it into a representation of the shelter.

“If you can round up the dogs, I’ll get the leashes. How many do you think? Five?”

“Perfect. I’ll get the standard snowman building kit, too. The arms, nose, eyes, all of that. We carry it in the shop.”

“I bet you’ll make a killing tomorrow,” he said, with a grin.

“We will likely sell out of them. It happens almost every year, no matter how many I order. We’ll need to come up with a hat and something for him to wear that’s not cliché though.”

“All right. Let’s think it over, and I’ll check in with you tomorrow. Unless... you wouldn’t be willing to give me your number, would you?”

Memory cocked her head to the side and studied him for a second, a smile taking over her face. “Why wouldn’t I give you my phone number?”

“I don’t know. Since I forced you to go on a date with me that you still refuse to admit was a date, I figured you didn’t want me to have your number either.”

She shook her head and pulled her phone out of her pocket, opening a new contact for him to enter his information while he did the same. “I think you’re supposed to ask for a girl’s number before you ask her out, so I guess that means I was right, and this wasn’t a date.”

He handed her his phone and took hers, and Memory put in her name and phone number, glad to see that his iPhone was only a model number newer than hers and wasn’t some sort of million dollar laser phone she’d never even heard of before, something capable of transporting people through time and space.

“Thanks,” Dak said as she handed his phone back to him.

“Thank you.” She took hers and dropped it into her pocket before she fished out her keys. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a good night.”

“You, too.” She took a deep breath, the idea that leaning in to test the waters wasn’t completely unheard of, was it? People kissed goodnight on first dates, didn’t they? But she wasn’t going there, and she’d just insisted that this was not a date. Memory pushed the car door open and hopped out, careful of her footing, and headed to the store. The last thing she needed was to fall on the ice and land on her behind in front of an attractive man who might actually be interested in her.