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“Sounds fun!” Phoebe thanked them both again for the allergy meds and waved goodbye.

In the end, her meeting with a cute small-town guy had been rather useful.

Phoebe spent the afternoon lounging on the outdoor sofa, reading one of Arden’s paperbacks. She was losing steam on her business plan. It felt like she had hit a wall. Last night, she’d stayed up late doing research, taking notes on what she would need to do to get her agency off the ground. Something was missing, but she wasn’t sure what it was. She knew her strengths—generating content ideas, maintaining relationships, anything on the creative side—but she also knew her weaknesses. Things like SEO and data analytics were pretty darn important for a digital marketing agency. Maybe she would take a class—but that would slow her progress way down. Maybe she would need to hire someone before getting up and running.

She didn’t want to sit around dwelling on this for the rest of the night. It was a beautiful evening, clear skies with the barest hint of a chill in the air. Getting out and about might help clear her head. She decided to go to the festival she’d heard so much about.

An actual small-town Christmas festival. The more she thought about it, the more thrilled Phoebe became. Seattle had the occasional fair, but nothing that could be described as quaint and charming. She was so glad she’d decided to go on this trip.

She wore her cutest jeans and a creamy white sweater that felt appropriate for holiday festivities. She gave her short hair a little zhoosh and swiped on some red lipstick.

The festival was everything she’d hoped it would be. She’d had to hunt for parking, which told her right away that this was a big deal. The entire Main Street was closed, now magically filled with a holiday market like something out of an old fairy tale. The air buzzed with chatter and anticipation as happy families and couples trooped toward the entrance. Phoebe stopped to admire it: a huge archway made of evergreen, dripping with gold and silver orbs and draped with red bows. It smelled incredible, like a pine-fresh forest. Past the entrance, the market was filled with one booth after another, selling everything from trinkets to sweaters to food and beverages. They had even brought in Christmas trees, dotted here and there between the booths. Each tree was uniformly decorated with warm twinkle lights and red and silver ornaments.

Phoebe walked slowly, drinking it all in. The air smelled of cinnamon and apples. She admired a display of handmade Christmas ornaments, delicate glittering reindeer and snowmen, and wondered if there would be a Hanukkah booth. As she walked, she couldn’t help but feel a little warm and gooey as she watched people doing their holiday shopping, taking family photos, and eating sugared nuts from little paper bags. It was all so quaint and pleasant. She felt lucky to be here.

After a few minutes, she stopped in front of a cart selling holiday beverages. She was deliberating between hot chocolate and warm apple cider when she heard her name.

“Phoebe?” The voice was so familiar, it sent goose bumps prickling up her neck.

And then he was in front of her. A little more muscular, his hair longer, with a visible tattoo that had definitely not been there in college.

“Jonathan?”

Chapter 6

Arden

Arden was, frankly, impressed with herself. Early this morning, she had taken a brisk walk around a very cold lake. Taking morning walks was on her list, after all. She’d had to take another hot bath at Phoebe’s place to stop her teeth chattering afterward. Accomplishing the items on her list felt good. Phoebe had been right about that.

A Christmas movie played on the TV as Arden fixed herself a sandwich in Phoebe’s gleaming kitchen.

Seattle itself wasn’t all that Arden had hoped it would be. She’d looked it up before hopping on the plane. All the photos online showed a hilly green city soaked in sunlight, with snow-capped mountains in the distance and trees dripping with cherry blossoms. But in reality, it was just… dark. The sun hadn’t come out a single time in the two days she’d been here. Obviously, she knew there wouldn’t be cherry blossoms in December, but she hadn’t expected the complete darkness. And the rain—if you could call it that. What was going on with that? It didn’t have the energy of a downpour; it was just a constant dripping. Like the rain clouds had had a good cry about something, and now their tears were just kind of leaking out, with no end in sight.

Despite all that, being away from home felt freeing. Arden felt light. She knew she’d been stuck in a rut: waking at six to be at work by seven, herding sixteen kindergarteners all day, trying to squeeze in a gym workout between prepping lessons and helping Peter with—well, with whatever he asked of her.

She enjoyed her life, but it didn’t leave her much room to breathe. And she knew she needed a break from Peter. She just hadn’t had the strength to step away until now.

If she was honest with herself, it was a stroke of luck that Phoebe had messaged her on the Live Bravely app. The idea of going away for the holidays would never have occurred to her, since she’d told her mom she wouldn’t be going to Costa Rica this year. Traveling just for the sake of traveling was not something Arden did often. She felt invigorated in a way she couldn’t remember feeling in a long time.

As she finished her sandwich and the credits rolled on The Christmas Witch, she looked up chocolate cafés. She’d never heard of such a thing before, but the Seattle travel blog she’d read had highly recommended visiting one. It sounded like the perfect afternoon treat. Plus, she was excited to check another thing off her list.

The Chocolati Café was minuscule, tucked in between equally tiny restaurants on a busy street. She ducked inside, eager to escape the drizzle. Her navy-blue waxed cotton raincoat was not made for winter in Seattle.

A warm blast of air hit her, along with the smell of chocolate. The café was dimly lit, with brown wood paneling and crimson walls. Several people were waiting in the small space. There was an older couple, a trio of young women, a tall man built like a professional wrestler, and a lankier man with a tousled head of hair.

As the line moved forward, Arden considered the guy with the tousled brown hair, who was standing in front of her. He was cute. He was about the same height as Arden—as a tall woman, she tended to be relieved when guys were not shorter than she—and his jeans and hoodie were neatly pressed and fit him perfectly. Standing behind him, she couldn’t see his face. But she felt a nervous flutter of anticipation. Flirt with a stranger was on her list, and he seemed like the perfect stranger to practice on. If she could work up the nerve.

They neared the front of the line, where Arden could see the displays of decadent chocolate truffles. Everything looked delicious. She was distracted by the chocolates until the muscular man in front of the cute guy began to order: “I’ll have the sea-salt caramel hot chocolate, half sweet, no whip, with oat milk, please. The twelve-ounce.”

“Got it,” the teenage boy at the cash register said.

“You got the oat-milk part, right?” the man confirmed. “Because you do not want to know what happens to my stomach if I have cow milk. Or soy—forget about it.”

The cute guy in front of Arden turned to her and wrinkled his nose. “TMI,” he whispered, too quietly for anyone but Arden to hear.

Arden’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a laugh. She nodded in agreement, and the cute guy lifted a finger to his lips, which only made Arden want to laugh more.

“Oat… milk…,” the cashier said in an exaggeratedly slow voice, writing on a paper cup with a Sharpie.