I’ll be teasing the cover reveal for my newest Dicken’s book in July,but for now, here’s a little something about my 2024 Dickens book, A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS. In this scene, Portia and Tony go Christmas Tree shopping for the diner’s tree. He has no idea it’s a ruse Portia is using to get him out and about…
“I knew this tree would look perfect on this table,” Portia said two hours later while she affixed the last ornament.
Tony lifted his head from his position at the stove, stared across the room at her, then shook his head.
Three times.
Three times now she’d all but bamboozled him into doing something he thought he’d never do or sworn not to.
By the time they arrived at the office to give the clerk the tag for the diner tree, he’d forgotten all about her prompt that he get his own holiday tree, instead, his thoughts turned to food. He’d been playing with the idea of deconstructing an alfredo sauce and using it on poached eggs. Maybe he could take a few hours tonight and whip up a few samples. The idea had come to him earlier in the week when a customer had praised the new tangy Alfredo he’d been using in the diner. Amy had relayed the customer’s compliment and he’d begun thinking of alternate ways to use the sauce.
While Portia had paid, he’d gone to bring the car around from the packed lot. When she emerged from the office ten minutes later, she had a wrapped bundle in her arms and was wearing a smile that more than hinted at a Cheshire cat vibe.
“What’s that?” he thrust his chin toward the bundle when she got in the car.
She turned to him and with her eyes wide, chin dropped a hair so she could zero in on him, she said, “A freshly cut tabletop tree. It’s barely thirty-six inches.”
Glaring at her, his own eyes narrowing, he said, “For Abra?”
“Nope.”
She popped the P with a flare.
“Portia.” She’d have to have a hearing loss to mistake the warning in his voice.
“Anton,” she said back, using the same tone.
“Don’t call me that.” For some reason, he rolled his head right and left.
“We’re in your car, silly. No one can hear us. And before you have a conniption,” she held up one hand, effectively silencing him, “It’s a gift.”
“A gift?”
She nodded and said, “There you go repeating everything again, but yes. It’s a thank you for helping me today.”
“I didn’t help you at all,” he countered. “When you called me and then we wound up at the tree farm, I thought it meant you needed help with cutting one down.”
“Initially, that was my thought. But it seemed easier, once we got here, to have the farm hands to it. They’ll do a great job and deliver it, too. But you came with me, gave up your one free afternoon, and because of that I wanted to say thank you, and getting you this tree is my way of doing it.”
He could argue, but he’d look like a real loser if he refused the offer of the gift.
But… “I don’t have anything to decorate it with and like I said, I’m not investing in a bunch of things that I won’t be taking with me when I leave.”
“No worries.” She pulled out her phone and gave him the directions to the town’s secondhand store, Curious Curios.
“And we’re going there, why?” he asked, pulling onto the county road.
“Because they have a package waiting for me that I need to pick up. They don’t deliver. And before you say a package, in that deep, smokey, sexy voice,” he clamped his mouth shut because he’d been about to do just that, “Yes, a package. It’s filled with used ornaments and tree trimmings the owner picked out for me.”
“When?” was all he could think to ask.
“What?”
“Not what. When?”
“When, what?”
The force and breadth of the sigh he expelled fogged up the front windshield. “I feel like I’m in a bad Yogi Berra movie and it’s déjà vu all over again.” Another exhale, this one followed by a cleansing inhale meant to calm him. “When did you arrange for a box of ornaments to be filled for you?”
For the first time in all their interactions, awkwardness descended upon her face and body. Shoulders slumped under her coat; mouth pinched in one corner as if lost in thought; brows flirting with one another, a delicate crease bifurcating them; even her color heightened a bit as her cheeks pinked.
“Portia?”
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again. “I spoke with her on the phone this morning. Told her what I needed and then trusted her to get everything ready for pick up.”
He digested that for the time it took to wait for the traffic light they were stopped at to turn back to green. As he pushed down on the gas pedal he said, “You planned this whole thing, didn’t you? This outing to the tree farm. Me going with you. Getting me that tree. Heck, you were probably even the one who convinced Amy to get a real tree for the diner.” He tossed her a quick glance before concentrating back on the road. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
She stayed silent for an entire block. Then, slowly, she began to nod, until a weak, “Yes,” escaped from between her lips.
“Why? Why did you go to all that trouble? Just for me to have a…holiday tree?” He shook his head. “That makes no sense.”
She turned to him then, and from the corner of his eye he could tell she was nervous.
About what? Him figuring out what she’d done? Her doing it? This was all just crazy.
You’ll have to read the book to find out why she’s so invested in getting him out of the house…
Release day is 11.11.24
Cover reveal starting July !
Peggy Jaeger, Author 