Holiday Second Chance Romance (Clarice and Trevor) novel Chapter 5

Clarice POV

My eyes flutter open hearing the light knock on the bedroom door. I must have cried myself to sleep. I sit up and fix my sweater before I head to open the door. Chrissy smiles when she notices my sleepy expression. "I'm sorry to wake you, but I didn't want you to miss dinner," she says. "I appreciate that Chrissy." I grab my phone and follow her out of the apartment. She leads me to what I assume is an employee entrance of the Inn. "You can use this entrance anytime. I'll show you where the front desk is and the dining room," she says. 

"If you want to rest for a couple of days before you start helping out," she starts to say, but I cut her off. "No, I really need to keep myself busy. When I'm not helping out here I plan to work on my next book. The less time I have to focus on the sh*t show that is my life right now the better." She turns to look at me with sympathy in her eyes. If I didn't know better, I would think she knew exactly what the hell my soon-to-be ex-husband and ex-best friend did. "I didn't know you were a writer. What kind of books do you write," she asks. 

"I write romance. Although I may change the genre of my next book to horror. I think it might be cathartic to kill off specific people in my book." She laughs before turning to make her way to what I assume is the dining room. Thankfully, it is mostly empty except for three tables. The dining room is decorated in greens and reds. There isn't an inch of the room that doesn't scream Christmas, but it's tasteful. A large fireplace is on the far wall and I chuckle when I see what looks like Santa's boots dangling like he is stuck in the chimney. 

"My brother did that to screw with my dad. My dad was not amused," she says. "Why, I think it's funny?" "I guess he has gotten stuck once or twice in a chimney," she says. I look at her like she has ten heads.  "My dad's job involves him climbing up and down chimneys," she says. "Like a chimney sweep. I didn't realize people actually got in the chimney to do that. I thought they used brushes." 

She points to a table on the opposite side of the room near a huge Christmas tree. We both take our seats just as an older woman steps out of the kitchen. "It's about time. I didn't think you were coming," she says before smiling at me. "You must be Clarice. I'm Lacey. Chrissy told me you'll be staying with us for a while and helping out around the Inn. I can always use an extra set of hands in  the kitchen if Nick doesn't have plans for you," she says. 

"I'm pretty sure my brother has plans for her," Chrissy says, winking at Lacey. I look at her, wondering what the hell she means but I don't get a chance to ask. "Do you want your usual Chrissy," she asks, and Chrissy nods. She hands me a piece of paper that lists their specials. I don't know if it's the pregnancy, but I've never been one for steak. However, right now it sounds amazing. "Can I have the ribeye?" "Of course, it's one of our bestsellers," she says. 

I pick my sides, and she heads back to the kitchen. "So tell me about your books. How many do you have and where can I read them," she asks. "You don't have to do that, Chrissy." "The hell, I don't. I love romance novels with some steam," she says. "Alright, I have ten books I've published so far. Most book stores like BAM or online sites like sss carry them. If you just search my pen name, Claribelle Hanson, you should be able to find them easily." 

Her mouth drops open, and she stares at me like I just spoke in a language she doesn't understand. "Chrissy, are you alright?" "You are Claribelle Hanson," she asks. "I am. Have you read one of my books?" "I have read all of your books. You are my favorite author. I can't believe this. My friend is Claribelle Hanson," she says. I smile hearing her call me her friend. She is definitely more of a friend than the one I left in California. 

Damnit, why do I keep thinking about the two of them? I focus my attention back on Chrissy. "Are the books in your apartment?" "Yes, I have a bookshelf in my room" she says. "I can sign them for you if you would like." She squeals just as Nick steps into the dining room. His brows furrow as he looks at his sister. "That would be amazing. Can you tell me what your new book is going to be about? Will it be part of the series?" 

"Actually, I'm going to try something different with my new book. I haven't really delved into the fantasy side of romance, so I'm going to try writing a werewolf story." "Oh my God, like twilight," she says just as Nick sits down next to her. I don't think I've ever seen anyone as ruggedly handsome as this man. I've never really been attracted to a man with a beard, but this man pulls it off in spades. Stop it Clarice. What is wrong with you? I chastize myself. 

The smirk on her face makes a scowl form on mine. "Are you asking me to tell you about my visions," she asks, the smirk staying firmly in place. She knows I hate knowing the future. It defeats the purpose of living, but right now I need to know why she was so eager to get Clarice here. Why the hell do I feel so drawn to her? I feel this need to protect her. 

"Unfortunately, Nick, I can't tell you," she says. "What the hell do you mean you can't tell me?" "Number one, you are always the one going on and on about how my gift ruins the surprise in life. Number two, mom has forbid me from interfering," she says. "What, why would mom care if you tell me anything about Clarice?" "I don't know. Maybe you should pop home and ask her. I will warn you to be prepared for another lecture on being a grump and shirking your responsibilities because you are afraid of love," she says. 

I'm just about to open my mouth to tell her that isn't true when I notice Clarice stepping back into the room. She looks pale, and I'm on my feet moving toward her without a second thought. "Let me help you." Before I can think better of it, I wrap my arm around her under the farse of helping her to the table and pass my magical energy through my fingertips. She nearly jumps but I hold her steady. "Holy sh*t, did you feel that," she asks. 

"Feel what," I ask, knowing full well what she felt. "It felt like what happens when you get zapped by static electricity. You know when you rub your socks on the carpet. You really didn't feel it," she asks. "No, I didn't. How are you feeling otherwise? You were pretty sick in the bathroom." "Actually, I feel much better now. It's weird, but I was feeling sick to my stomach and tired, but now I feel great. Better than I have since," her voice trails off. I can see my sister's knowing smirk out of the corner of my eye. 

"I'm glad you're feeling better. You should eat," Chrissy says. Without another word, we all dig into our food. The whole time I eat, I steal glances at Clarice and wonder what the actual hell is happening? Why is my mother forbidding Chrissy from telling me?