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We give Charley our order and she gathers the menus. “So, just working on the Santa shop, huh?”
“Yep, that’s it,” Lia says, nodding and averting her gaze.
When Charley turns her curious gaze to me, I shrug, feigning nonchalance. Like my insides weren’t set on fire by touching the only woman I’ve ever loved. “That’s it.”
“Right.” She draws out the word before walking away, shaking her head.
“So, let’s talk Santa’s workshop.” Lia sits up straight and sends me a smile.
I chuckle. “You’re going to have to help me out here. I have no idea what in the hell to do for a Santa workshop.”
“Well,” she says with a grin and a confident gleam in her eye. “It’s lucky you have me. I’ve got the ideas. You just need to supply the materials. And the space.”
While we wait for our food, she hits me with all the things she envisions for turning my shop into a winter wonderland with the jolly old man in red front and center. I have to admit, with her enthusiasm and animated gestures, I’m getting some ideas of my own.
As we eat, I watch this new confident and in charge Lia with a smile on my face. I shift in my seat because it’s hot as fuck. Young Lia was shy and sweet, and that drew me like a moth to a flame. But I always knew if she could tap into that hidden confidence, she’d be a force to be reckoned with.
“Now, the only thing I haven’t worked out yet is the sled issue,” she says, taking a bite of food. “I think it would be fun to have a different little take on it, instead of the traditional sled. But I have no idea where I could get what I’m thinking of.”
I wipe my hands and throw the napkin onto my plate, watching her. “This stuff really gets you going, huh?”
She blinks. “What stuff?”
I smile. “The creative advertising, marketing thing. You’re really good at it. Of course, you were always creative.”
A shadow crosses her eyes before she averts her gaze from mine. “Not that great apparently.”
“What do you mean?”
She pushes her plate away and picks up her napkin, running it through her fingers.
I wait, not saying a word.
After several moments of tearing her napkin into confetti-sized bits, she sighs before saying, “I haven’t told anybody this yet. Not even my parents.” She stops and rolls her lips in for a moment. “Just before I left Seattle, I got passed over for a promotion. A big one.”
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Lia.”
She shrugs and continues shredding. “It would have made me the only female SVP in the company.”
“SVP?”
“Senior vice president of marketing. I worked my ass off for it. I have the largest client portfolio in the company, both in revenue and accounts and yet…” she trails off then clears her throat. “Anyway, you don’t want to hear my sad little story.”
“I want to hear everything you have to say.”
Her fingers stop mutilating the napkin, and she lifts her gaze to mine. There’s a pinch in my chest that I ignore when I see hope in her eyes. “You do?”
“Hell, yeah,” I say softly.
We continue to stare at one another before the sound of a dropped plate breaks us out of our trance.
“Hey, I have an idea,” I say, lifting my hip up and pulling out my wallet. I drop enough cash on the table to cover the tab plus a generous tip. “Come with me.”
She shakes her head and scoots to the end of the booth. “No way, Henderson. The last time you said that to me, I ended up with a hickey on my neck.”
I grin. “Among other things.”
“We said friends, remember?”
