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Penelope
Aftercheckingoutthemenu, I order the same thing Brent does—chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream and a side of bacon. When Sally takes our menus away, I don’t know what to do with my hands and I sit there awkwardly. I don’t even remember the last time I sat with someone who wasn’t a costar, bodyguard, or Drew.
I mess with the strings of my sweatshirt as my face grows clammy. I’m in the public spotlight daily, so why am I getting nervous sitting at this diner with a man?
Brent appears just as uncomfortable, so I take a chance and break the silence.
“Are you taking Nora to the Winter Festival?” I ask.
“Unfortunately, she’s obsessed with Christmas, just like this town, and she wants to go to every single event, so I’ll be taking her,” he says gruffly.
“When does it start? If I’m still here, I’d love to go.”
“It’s a few days from now actually. If you aren’t back in the city yet, you’re more than welcome to tag along with us. My parents usually go, too.”
“That’d be fun. What other events are there?”
“Oh so many,” he says. He shakes his head and starts ticking things off on his fingers as he speaks. “The Christmas Tree Lighting, Christmas Log Parade, the Winter Festival, and finishing off the season with the Christmas Eve Ball.”
“That sounds amazing,” I say.
Christmas in Manhattan is different. Yes, there are lots of decorations and events, like the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree Lighting Ceremony, but sometimes it feels so lonely. I’m usually working my ass off during the season. Deep down, I hope the parts don’t come in for my car so I can go to the festival.
Sitting in silence, I avert my gaze away from Brent. The diner’s floor is checkered, perfectly matching the black booths. There’s a large chalkboard behind the counter, listing the day’s specials alongside a countdown to Christmas. I smile at that.
Inside the bakery display beneath the register are classic treats like red velvet cupcakes, snickerdoodles, and cheesecake. Desserts that remind me of Christmas. My mouth waters. Red-and-white decorations fill the space, various holiday trinkets on every surface.
As an actress, I’ve had to be strict with my diet. If I gain even a few pounds, my agent is on top of me to lose them. It’s exhausting. But while I’m here, I’m not an actress, and I want to taste something sweet.
My broken heart still aches, and dessert might help the healing process.
Sally stands behind the counter, smiling as she takes orders. Every so often she’ll help her waitresses serve meals. She’s clearly comfortable in her element. Jealousy trickles through me. What must it be like to be so at ease and in your element?
The diner is so warm and inviting it’s hard to believe it’s freezing outside.
I glance at Brent. His eyes stare out into the diner and his chin rests on his steepled hands as he waits for our meals to arrive. Luckily, a few seconds later, Sally arrives with our food, breaking up some of the tension.
“Here you go, you two,” Sally says. “Sorry it took so long, it’s still the morning rush in here.”
As soon as she places the plates on the table, I want to dig right in. Pancakes are definitelynoton my approved food list. I haven’t tasted one in a few years. I can’t help myself and practically stab the pancakes with my fork as Sally pulls her hand away.
“ Sowwy… haven’t ha…pancake… in years,” I struggle to say through a mouthful.
Brent and Sally look at each other and burst out laughing. Blushing, I quickly chew what’s in my mouth and swallow. I’ve basically spent the entire day embarrassing myself.
“Wait, you haven’t had a pancake in years?” Brent asks with a curious look on his face. “That should be illegal. Are you allergic to them or some shit?”
“No, I just always kept myself on a strict diet.” It’s not a full lie, and I’m not even sure why I say it, but it’s out there before I can stop it. Honestly, the people of Winterberry probably won’t even care if they know who I really am, but I’m so used to standing out, it feels nice to fit into the crowd.
“Well, that’s ridiculous. Eat the pancakes.”
“Aye aye sir,” I say, saluting him.
“I hope you enjoy, Penelope,” Sally says. “Okay, if you need anything just holler. Not for real though, Brent, that wasn’t funny when you did that.”
She heads toward the counter, but after a few steps she pauses. She turns, scrutinizing me, and I fear she recognizes me.
Shit.
