"My apologies," Mark said. "My brother is a bit of a loose cannon. But yes, if Chloe can open a restaurant, that is what we will need. I have to attract a certain type of talent to grow my company, and Chloe's restaurant would be a big draw for recruitment. I know it can take a while, what with the health department, but I trust you can make this happen."
"Yes, it's already in the works," I lied.
After I ended the phone call, I yelled, "Yes! My tower is saved!" And it was all thanks to Chloe and her amazing cookies. After this, I would never say a bad thing about sweets ever again.
Chloe was sitting cross-legged on my couch drawing that afternoon when I returned. I pulled her up into a hug.
"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Mark just called me," I said between kisses. "He wants to rent the tower in large part because of your muffins and cookies."
"Oh, I don't think it was all that. You have a nice tower," she said. "And I'm sure you offered him pretty competitive rent for the city, since you're trying to find tenants."
"All he did was rave about your cooking."
She blushed and mumbled, "I just bake stuff."
"It's transformative," I told her. She was acting bashful. I didn't want to bring up that I had promised Mark she would run a restaurant. It seemed like a lot to spring on someone. I needed to build up to it slowly.
"You were a hit on the morning shows," I told her.
"I plugged Platinum Provisions for you," she said.
"That's because you're always looking out for me," I said and kissed her.
"What are you sketching?" I asked, looking at the notebook that rested beside her on the couch.
"Just some ideas for the gingerbread house challenge."
"That’s the next one?" I asked, kissing her again. She always tasted slightly sweet.
"You know," she said, not quite looking at me.
My heart dropped a minute. She couldn't be breaking up with me, could she?
"I was thinking. I wanted to have a Christmas party, just something small, I just… I love Christmas and I could decorate your penthouse. You wouldn’t have to do anything," she said in a rush. "We could invite your siblings." She sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Wait, never mind, ignore me, I'm tired."
"Yes," I said. "Have the party."
"No, you don't like Christmas."
"You should have a Christmas party," I insisted.
"Are you sure?"
I kissed her. "Yes," I said against her mouth.
She clapped her hands together in delight.
"Under one condition," I said in mock seriousness. "That you bake and cook." Then I mentally kicked myself. "Not because you're, you know, a woman."
"Keep digging that hole there, bud," she said.
"Just you're really good at it."
"I'm just teasing!" she said, laughing and wrapping her arms around my neck. "I know the way to a man's heart—food!"
I grinned at her.
"I'm serious about the party," she said sheepishly.
