Once Upon A Chocolate Kiss

“Didn’t see you?” he parroted, laughter filling his voice. “A woman didn’t notice you? She was driving a truck?” Dillon’s voice rose.

Restrained no more, his laughter burst into the room, filling every silent corner as it reverberated off the walls. Throwing his head back, he dropped his other foot to the floor and guffawed loud and long.

“It’s not that humorous, dear fellow,” Richard murmured.

His accent only sent Dillon into a fresh round of laughter. “Obviously it is, if you’ve lapsed back into that British brogue.”

“I’m Irish,” Richard reminded him, irked that Dillon was getting such a kick out of this.

“Let me guess, five foot ten inches, two hundred pounds of muscle, and her name is Frieda. She wears jeans and a flannel shirt, chews tobacco and looks as mean as a coyote fighting over his newest meal?”

Unruffled by this latest round of insults from his friend, Richard smiled. “You’d be wrong in your guess.”

“Oh yeah?” Dillon challenged.

A knock at the door interrupted them. Thank goodness.

“Get that,” Richard interjected, ignoring the question in Dillon’s voice.

Dillon rose and opened the door to the bellhop. Young, no more than twenty, the boy had outgrown the outfit he wore. The sleeves and pants were both just a tad too short and a bit too tight. However, what he lacked in the uniform, he certainly made up with the smile he gave them.

“Ready to go?” he drawled.

“Can you put these in the silver Lexus out front?” Dillon asked.

“Yes, sir,” the boy answered. He quickly and quietly started gathering Richard’s luggage, full of as much energy as a young man could be who was out making a living at a job he enjoyed. Where had Richard’s energy for his job gone lately?

Turning back to Richard, Dillon said, “So, when do I get to know where you’re moving?”

Richard pushed himself up onto his good leg. Today he wore his own pair of khakis with a long-sleeved white shirt. A loose tweed sports jacket finished out his outfit. Slipping on his tanned overcoat, he left it unbuckled and unbuttoned as he grabbed his crutches. “Since you’re driving me there, I suppose you can know now.”

Adjusting the crutches, he matched his gait to the swing of the metal devices as he maneuvered his way out the door. “There’s a tiny shop two blocks from the mall that is renting out a flat.”

“Wow. That’s close.”

Richard nodded. “Quite. I plan to reside there in peace for at least the next four weeks until this foot heals. Then I’ll return to work.”

Dillon fell in beside his friend. “Four weeks. What about the grand opening of the store?”

Richard frowned. “We can push it off for a month if we must. Maybe plan it for Valentine’s Day. After all, that would be a great time for the opening.”

“You know, you’re right.” Dillon’s mind clicked into motion. “We could do a huge campaign and build up to the grand opening targeting Valentine’s Day. Of course, we don’t want to forget to play up that this is the one hundredth store in America. I’m sure we could pull a lot of people from Amarillo and maybe even the Fort Worth and Dallas area if the advertising campaign were big enough. But that’s your department. I have some ideas for inside the store. I think you’re going to enjoy what I have planned.”

Richard nodded. “I’ll be glad to look it over, but do me a favor.”

“What’s that?” Dillon asked as they approached the stairs.

Richard turned slightly and oh-so-carefully began descending. “I don’t want to discuss business when I’m around anyone else. I want four weeks of rest, pure and simple. I want only to experience life in this little town and have time to recuperate.”

“From Linda,” Dillon said knowingly.

“Not just from Linda, but from society.”

His fiancée of four years had left him six months ago. He’d found out she was leaving him by the announcement in the New York Times about her upcoming marriage—to someone else.

He was embarrassed to admit he’d been so busy that he hadn’t even realized the woman he’d agreed to marry four years earlier had fallen for another man. That still smarted.

Since then, however, he’d been taking stock of his life. The store was all he’d ever had, all he ever would have. He’d been so caught up in the business, he realized now, that he and Linda hadn’t really had a conventional relationship. He’d met her at a few parties. His father, he now understood, had manipulated things so he and Linda were together—with Linda’s full support—and it had just seemed natural to ask her to marry him. It had been just like a business merger. She was a society woman and knew how things worked. He was going to be in that type of spotlight. He’d thought, sure, why not.

He knew when he read the announcement and felt only embarrassment that he hadn’t really loved Linda. She was manipulative and only wanted what his father had promised her—a name and place in society.

But that incident had gotten Richard to thinking about life. Church last night had been part of the new leaf he was going to turn over. He had decided that he had to get back to basics to find out just who and what he was.

God was as basic as he could get. He needed to reestablish that relationship and then go from there.

He was at a crossroads.

“Richard?” Dillon prompted, and he realized he hadn’t answered him.

“Linda is part of the reason I don’t want to talk about work. Truthfully, buddy, I simply need time. And this store, so far away from New York, gives me a chance to do some reevaluating.”

His friend nodded. “Very well. I’ll do my best to take my lead from you about work discussions.”

“I plan to have a line installed in the apartment and a fax put in. If any emergencies arise, you can contact me there or on my cell.”

Dillon pursed his lips. “You’re really serious about this.”

He nodded. “I am.”

They reached the bottom of the wooden stairs. The bellboy was just coming back in and paused to hold the door open. Richard reached into his front pocket and pulled out his money clip. Peeling off two bills, he gave the young man a nice tip and nodded.

“Thank you, sir,” the boy said, and smiled.

Richard smiled in return. Evidently, the tip he’d normally leave in New York was considered much better here.

Going out into the windy morning air, he wished he’d at least buckled his coat.

“So, then,” Dillon continued as the door closed behind him. “Tell me about this apartment.”

Richard got to the luxury car and handed the crutches to his friend. Grabbing the door and the top of the car he lowered himself into the front passenger’s seat. Carefully he lifted his leg and turned, working it into the car while avoiding bumping it.

When the car was in gear and they were carefully headed down the icy, sand-and salt-coated roads, Richard said, “I’ve never seen the apartment.”

Both hands on the wheel, Dillon cast him a quick look. “You’re kidding.”

“The woman told me there was a two-bedroom apartment for rent. I agreed.”

“That’s not practical. What if it’s a broken-down heap?”

“What if it is?” Richard replied. “I’m only going to be there for a few weeks. It’s away from the places I would normally stay and it’ll give me some peace and quiet.”

Dillon frowned. “You’re willing to risk renting an apartment unseen, just for peace and quiet? I don’t buy it.”

“Turn here,” Richard said, pointing to the main east-to-west street.

Dillon obediently obeyed.

“See that gingerbread house toward the end of the block?” he continued, pointing. “Right past the hardware store?”

“Yeah.”

“Just after there you’ll turn into the alley.”

Dillon started, “You’re—”

“—kidding,” Richard finished for him. “No, I’m not.”

Main Street was nothing like a main street in New York. Here, lining the straight four-lane street, were metered parking spaces. Down the middle of the street—though not up farther, he’d noted—was a median filled with grass and benches. There were flower beds but they were empty right now. He imagined this was a very beautiful area in the spring. A big clock stood on the corner, right beyond the hardware store and the candy store.

At the corner they turned right and then made another quick right. The alley was clean and wide enough for two cars, though it’d be a tight fit. Dumpsters sat behind the stores, most likely an indication that the garbage trucks made this their route to collect trash.

“Though there is a side entrance, I thought it’d be better to unload everything back here. I called and talked to one of the workers this morning, who told me this would be best.”

“Wait a minute,” Dillon said, his mind working furiously as he processed everything. “You’re staying at this candy shop?”

Richard buckled his coat and then shoved the car door open. “They have an apartment for rent.”

“But don’t you think staying under the competition’s roof—”

“She’s not our competition,” Richard said shortly.

Dillon’s eyebrows shot up. Quickly, he exited the car. “She? She?” He spied a red truck next to the building. His gaze returned to Richard. “The woman who hit you offered you a place to stay?”

He should have realized Dillon would put two and two together.

When he opened the trunk, Richard grabbed the smaller of the two suitcases, leaving the large one as well as the garment bag for his friend, and went to the back door to ring the bell.

The door was opened by Angela.

“Oh, great! You made it.”

“Young and fresh is now your style?” Dillon said through the side of his mouth as the woman pulled the door wider.

“Can it,” Richard replied.

“You’re on crutches. Sam is going to absolutely die!” the young girl said with glee.

“Sam?” Dillon asked.

“Hi. I’m Angela.” She stuck out her hand, saw his were filled and dropped her hand to her side. “Sam is the one who broke his ankle. It is broken, isn’t it? I told Sam it was.”

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