The Complete Christmas Collection. Rebecca Winters

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she came with him. She was alone, with no family, on Christmas. But she had him, and she had the Vitellis. If he wanted her to know him as someone other than Chef Hollywood, she would have to see where he came from.

      “That’s serious.”

      Nico didn’t reply. Instead, he took her elbow and guided her to the front door. “Think what you want, Cath. I have to get ready for work.”

      “Good luck.” She gave him a quick hug before she left. “I hope she’s worthy of you.”

      He couldn’t help laughing.

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      “I CAN’T BELIEVE tomorrow is Christmas Eve already.” Patsy handed Grace a cup of coffee and sat down in the chair across from the desk. “First things first, are we set for the Jingle Bell Run today?”

      Grace looked at her list. “Yes. We donated three prizes—two spa packages and a Valentine’s Day weekend stay. Seven of the staff are participating and there will be some celebrating in the bar afterward, I suspect. The guests received invitations to join or watch.”

      “I donated a couple of reindeer hats and one very ugly Mrs. Santa sweater. And I assume we’re ready for the wedding?”

      Grace waved a hand toward the stacks of boxes. “We are ready. Nico loaned me one of his interns—”

      “I heard she was thrilled to get out of deveining shrimp.”

      “Yes. That’s what she told me. And she—Jilly—follows directions beautifully,” Grace said. “Noelle loved the little pinecone place-card holders, too.”

      “You have the names of the guests? That was quick.”

      “Our new bride gave me a list and the seating chart. That girl wasted no time getting this together, thank goodness. Ted’s been helping any way he can. They make a good couple.” She took a sip of coffee. “Thanks for this.”

      “The chef’s special blend.” Patsy grinned. “He seems quite smitten.”

      “That’s an old-fashioned word.”

      “I’m an old-fashioned woman.” She leaned back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. Today Patsy wore a black pantsuit, white blouse and a cluster of vintage Christmas pins on her left lapel. “He’s crushing on you. Is that better?”

      Grace had to laugh. “Ridiculous.”

      “Not so ridiculous,” her friend pointed out. “You two have a lot in common. You both work in the hospitality business, you both like working with people and you’re both good at what you do. You live in the same town, you’re old enough to know what you want. The people you work with respect you both. Plus, he’s very good looking and he comes from a nice family.”

      Grace thought about what Nico had told her last night. “He’s very close to them.”

      “Another plus.”

      “You sound like a matchmaking service.”

      Patsy shrugged. “I’m just pointing out the obvious. Just don’t tell me you’re still in love with what’s-his-name. And don’t tell me your heart is still broken over that guy, because you’re smarter than that.”

      “I’m not heartbroken,” Grace declared. “But I am a little more wary that I used to be. You can’t blame me for that.”

      “Blame you for what?” Nico, wearing his official chef’s jacket and unofficial blue jeans, stepped into the office. He held a legal pad in his hand and smiled at both of them. “Should I come back later? I just wanted to go over the menu for tomorrow night.”

      “Stay,” Patsy said, giving Grace a quick wink as she rose from her chair. “I have accounts to deal with. You’re staying for the shower?”

      “Absolutely. Jilly has gone into town to get a gift certificate from the Adirondack Store for me. That’ll be my gift.” She eyed her foot. Still trapped in the boot, it peeked out from the hem of her swirly gold-and-green skirt. She’d chosen a deep emerald V-neck sweater and gold snowflake earrings to continue her holiday-themed week. “I’m glad my Christmas shopping is all done because I’m not in any shape to hit the stores now.”

      “Thank God for that,” Nico said, moving aside for Patsy. “I’m a terrible shopper and I’d have to go with you to make sure you didn’t trip on any of the Christmas decorations. How long do we have to stay?”

      “We?”

      “I go where you go, babe. Unless you want to try to drive with that boot on your foot.”

      She didn’t.

      “For an hour or so into the party,” Grace said. “I need to make sure everything is set up the way her friends want it. There will be enough staff members there to take over for us after that. Do you need to stay late in the kitchen?”

      He shook his head and plopped down in the chair across from her. “Michael can handle the dinner service. We expect it to be fairly light, so we can head home whenever you like.” He looked down at his notes. “So, let’s talk about our wedding, shall we?”

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      EVERY TIME HE saw Grace she was in motion. She’d organized the table arrangements, created a gift table and used some of those little lighted jars to decorate the buffet, all while propped up on crutches. Nico had kept the food simple, turning the formal rehearsal-dinner food for the Barrett guests into hearty appetizers. Maria had baked chocolate cupcakes and the interns had practiced their cake-decorating skills by frosting them. He’d had to demonstrate proper pastry bag technique, which meant the opportunity to show off a bit.

      Just like on television.

      It had all been worth it. The bride and groom had been completely surprised, having been tricked into thinking they were meeting friends for dinner. The mood in Wildwood was festive, with the groom’s favorite blues track playing from the speakers and the bride’s friends laughing and talking nonstop.

      The interns, basking in the glow of compliments from their boss, continued to put out appetizers. He waved to Patsy, who gave him a thumbs-up and then made her way through the crowd to greet him.

      “Nice job, Chef.”

      “Thank you.” They both looked at the happy couple. Grace was explaining something to them, waving one hand toward the gift table as she spoke. One of the EMTs who had taken her to the clinic approached, put his arm around Grace’s waist and then whispered in her ear.

      “What the—”

      “He’s no competition,” Patsy said. “At least, I don’t think so. He’s been asking her out for a year and she hasn’t said yes yet.”

      “There’s always a first time,” he grumbled. “The guy looks like Paul Bunyan. He could carry her off to the top of the mountain and we’d never see her again.” Seriously, the guy had legs like tree trunks and a chest the size of Montana.

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