Alex gave her a determined look. “On you? Never. I have faith.”
“In me?” Riley asked as she took another sip and smiled as it warmed her all the way down to her toes. She wiggled them around in her power boots.
“And in Christmas,” he said with a confident smile.
She could only shake her head, but she was smiling. She always enjoyed banter with Alex, even if it was about Christmas.
When he took some more cork ornaments over to the Christmas tree and started adding them to the already overloaded branches, he looked around the bar and frowned.
Riley knew what he was thinking. “It looks like it’s going to be a slow night,” she said.
Alex nodded. “Probably all the snow, but you know what that means?”
Riley shook her head. “No, what?”
Alex came over and sat down on the barstool next to her. “It means we have time for a little talk.”
Riley laughed. “Uh, that’s what I thought we’ve been doing.”
Alex gave her a look. “I mean a talk about this next book you’re doing. A Christmas book? Did I hear that right this morning on TV? How is this possible for Miss I Don’t Do Christmas? And who is this great love of your life? How have I missed all this? What haven’t you told me? You have a lot of explaining to do, so start talking.”
She made a face as she put down her Santa mug. “You saw the whole interview?”
“All of it,” he said. “Including the part after the commercial break when you weren’t there. You walked out, didn’t you?”
Riley nodded. “I did. I felt like I was being attacked.”
“You were being attacked,” Alex said.
Riley loved him for that.
“I know, but I really needed that interview. My last book didn’t do so great, and this Christmas books is my last shot. I could lose my publishing deal.”
“Your publisher can do that?” Alex asked, concerned.
“My publisher will do that if I don’t write a new book that will win back my readers.” She took another sip of wine.
“And that’s supposed to be this Christmas book?” he asked. “So, they don’t know—”
“What? That I don’t do Christmas?” Riley sighed. “That I’m the last person that should be writing a Christmas book? No, they don’t know any of that. How could I tell them that? If they think writing a Christmas book is the only way to save my career, and I tell them I don’t have a clue about what kind of story to write, they’re going to drop me right now.”
Alex got up, took her mug, and went to get her a refill. She waited for him to say something, anything, but he remained silent as he handed her back the now full Santa mug.
“It’s a mess,” Riley said. “I know.”
“I don’t see this as a mess,” Alex said. “I see this as an opportunity.”
“What do you mean?” Riley asked.
He smiled at her. “You know what they say . . .”
Riley laughed. “No, but I know you’re about to tell me.”
“Even in the darkest moments a new day will bring light. You just need to find the light. You need to find Christmas,” Alex said.
“You make it sound so easy,” Riley replied.
“It shouldn’t be that hard,” Alex said. “But now I have to ask what all of America is asking right now.”
Riley arched one eyebrow. “What’s that?”
Alex locked eyes with her. “Who were you talking about that inspired all your romance books? Who is the love of your life that got away? It’s not Tyler, is it? I just didn’t see that with the two of you when you came in here.”
Alex shook her head. “No, I wasn’t talking about Tyler.”
“Okay, then your boyfriend in Utah. The one you said you lived with. What was his name? Brandon?” Alex asked.
“Brendan,” Riley corrected him. “And no, I wasn’t talking about Brendan.”
Alex’s eyes lit up. “Oh, then it had to be your old college boyfriend from Los Angeles, the movie producer. Didn’t you always say he was your first love?”
Riley looked impressed. “You’re talking about Colin. I can’t believe you remember all this. But then again, I can’t believe I told you all this.”
“Bartenders,” Alex said. “We get told a lot.”
Riley reached out and took his hand. “And so do friends. Thank you for always listening to me and all my stories.”
“You’re welcome,” Alex said as one of the waiters walked over carrying a huge plate of parmesan truffle fries and put them in front of Riley. She gave Alex a questioning look.
“You always say my truffle fries make everything better,” Alex said.
Riley nodded, smiled. “I do say that.”
“So I ordered you a double,” Alex said.
Riley laughed. “Well, it has been that kind of day.”
Just as she went to pick up a fry, he pulled the plate toward him, out of her reach.
“Hey,” she said. “What’s going on?” But she already knew. Whenever Alex wanted to get information out of her, withholding her favorite fries was one of his tactics.
“So what great love of your life were you talking about on TV?” Alex pressed. “If it wasn’t your last boyfriend, Tyler, the hot-shot lawyer, and it wasn’t Brandon, the guy you traveled the world . . .”
“Brendan,” Riley corrected again.
“And it wasn’t your college sweetheart, then who were you talking about in that interview? Those are the only three real boyfriends you ever told me about. Unless you left someone out . . .”
Riley shook her head. “I didn’t.” She picked up her cinnamon stir stick to swirl her mulled wine around. “There isn’t anyone else. At least not anyone I was really invested in.”
Alex, looking perplexed, leaned back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Then who is this mystery guy?”
“That’s just it,” Riley said. “There’s no mystery guy. What I should have said was that I have had great loves in my life, plural, and that those loves have all inspired the stories in my romance novels. There isn’t one true love that got
