Chapter Eleven
“You’re right,” Darius said. “It’s not who you are. There’s a way around this. Let me think.” He ate some fries, a slight frown on his face. Suddenly he perked up. “I’ve got it.”
Before he could explain, the camera crew arrived.
Darius hated the way Poppy paled even further. She didn’t deserve ridicule for having a need. She needed help and he was just the man to give it. It was, after all, the time of giving.
“Are you folks ready?” the thirty something interviewer asked.
“We sure are, aren’t we?” He stood and pulled Poppy to her feet and slipped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to his side. Holy Batman, she felt good in his arms. He might just never let her go.I wonder if we could cook like this, arm in arm?
“Yeah,” she said, the defeat in her voice clawed at his heart.
He’d fallen for her. He wasn’t sure if it was back in elementary school when she’d been nice to the new kid in town, when she’d been a caring, self-conscious teen, or when she’d opened her business to him and offered forgiveness for his past transgressions. It didn’t matter, he was gone. He’d fallen deep and he liked it. But right now, he had to dig her out of this hole. He gave her another reassuring squeeze.
“I’d like to go first,” he offered. “If nobody objects.”
“Whenever you’re ready,” the cameraman told the interviewer who nodded.
“Darius Badeaux and Poppy Holiday, welcome to the Gingerbread Dreams Contest. We’ll start with you Darius. What prompted you to enter this contest?”
“I’ve got a few reasons. First and foremost, I’m a huge supporter of the women’s shelter. My restaurant, Mythos Taverna, sends complimentary meals there for the guests and staff once a week.”
He grinned at the shocked expression on Poppy’s face. Clearly that tidbit of information hadn’t reached her through the grapevine yet.
“Plus, I’m hoping that Poppy can help me hone my baking skills. I’ve got a new lineup of food at the restaurant, including desserts. She doesn’t want me to fail the people of Cranberry Cove, so she’s helping me offer only the best treats.” He’d worked in several Michelin Star restaurants, so that part was a load of crap, but he wanted to paint her in the best light. She deserved recognition for her skills.
“There’s always the community aspect of the competition. I wasn’t much on community as a youth, I’m sure many of you will remember the time I accidentally ran over the Christmas display in the town square.” He paused as the camera man chuckled.
“I’m not that boy anymore. I’ve learned some respect.” He laughed self deprecatingly. “I love this town and all the people in it. I want to take part in all the events and get to know my community. I want to enter the ice skating races, the sled races. I want to sit on Santa’s knee, and make a wish on the Christmas star. I can’t wait for the Easter Egg Hunt and Halloween. I want to help this town grow and prosper in any way I can. But that’s not the main reason I entered,” he declared, his voice ringing with conviction.
“Tell us, Darius, why did you enter? As if those reasons weren’t enough.”
“I’m here to help Poppy win this thing. She’s the kindest, gentlest person I have ever met. Since elementary school, she’s been a light of kindness and generosity in this town.” Around him, people nodded their agreement. “She gives back to this town in so many ways. She donates baked goods to the shelter, to the food bank, to the fire hall. She’s never turned away a hungry person. Right now, she’s got a need. A big one. I heard, through the grapevine, that her main oven died almost four months ago.” He heard a collective gasp. Good, he’d hammer his point home now.
“She’s working longer hours, getting up extra early to create delicious treats for her customers and friends and doing it without slacking on her charity donations. She’s doubled her work time because she’s functioning on only one oven. She needs another. The prize money, if we win, will keep her baking, keep her feeding us delicious goodies. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I adore Poppy’s treats and don’t want to go without them. I entered this contest to help my friend win, to help her get the oven she needs, so she doesn’t exhaust herself feeding this town.”
A cheer rose from the crowd. After a moment, the random sounds turned to a chant. “Poppy. Poppy.” Then, it morphed into, “Go Team Sweet Treats.”
When the crowd quieted, the interviewer looked at them with a smile. “Good luck, Team Sweet Treats. We’re rooting for you. We love those desserts as much as you do. You heard it here first, Cranberry Cove. Stay tuned for our interviews with the final contestants, and the judges.” He gestured for the cameraman to cut. After thanking Darius, he turned and walked away.
“Why did you do that?” Poppy whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “You took the heat for me. You didn’t have to do that.” She smiled up at him, gratitude glowing in her eyes.
She was so wrong. How could he let her suffer when a few words could take the burden off her shoulders? Her obvious distress, tempered by gratitude, moved him. It pushed into his heart and lit him with joy. “Poppy Holiday, every word I said was true. You can’t keep on like this. Over the last few weeks, I’ve seen virtually every resident of this town in your bakery. You’re up early, you stay too late. You’ve sacrificed your entire life to keep them fed. It’s time that ends. We might not win this contest, but now, the people, your people, will understand if there’s a little less stock the next time they come in. Who knows, maybe the cheapies will tip a little better.”
She laughed at the comment and leaned into him. “Darius, I can’t thank you enough for this. For helping me build my dream castle, and for letting people know I needed help.”
“Hey,” he shrugged. “It’s Christmas, the time of giving, the time of miracles. Who knows, we might just win this thing.”
“Are you saying it’ll take a miracle for us to win?” She leaned out of his embrace and gave him a fake frown.
“Nope. Not me.” He chuckled. “But, just in case we don’t, maybe the miracle of giving will strike your customers. Now, finish your burger. It’s time to start construction.”
