by Kay Correll
Maybe they hadn’t gotten to know each other as much as she thought.
Each time Reed had left, Julie had stood by the door, waiting for him to kiss her again, but he hadn’t.
Not once.
She wasn’t sure what that meant. Had he decided they should just be friends? Had she done something wrong? Well, she’d hired more help and the kitchen had always been filled with people. Nancy had hovered over her, tsk-tsking if she didn’t take time to get off her foot. Maybe it was just because so many people were around.
The thing was, she could still feel his lips against hers and how it had made her feel alive. She wanted the man to kiss her again.
After all this ruckus with Camille’s party, she was going to sit down and talk to Reed. Really talk to him. Maybe they could take a long evening walk, or have dinner at Three Wishes like they’d talked about before.
Or maybe, just maybe, she’d kiss him…
* * *
Julie rushed around the bakery kitchen, carefully checking off items on her extremely detailed to-do list. She plotted just when everything need to be done and in what order. So far, things had been going smoothly.
Nancy had dealt with The Sweet Shoppe crowd and Reed had helped her. He took orders, wiped tables, poured coffee, and he’d even learned how to use the cash register.
He actually seemed to be enjoying himself doing all this work. Work for no pay. On his vacation. She shook her head.
They closed The Sweet Shoppe promptly at two and Nancy and Reed cleaned up the store. Julie kept checking things off her list.
Check. Check. Check.
She was beginning to feel a bit cocky about the whole thing. She had this. Everything was under control. She planned to be a smashing success at the party and scare up a lot more catering business for the bakery.
Julie whirled around at the sound of a tray crashing to the floor.
“I’m sorry.” Nancy’s face was white. “I have to go. The hospital called. My mom fell. I…” Nancy looked at the spilled mess.
“I’ve got it.” Reed stepped up besides Nancy.
“Go, go.” Julie shooed at Nancy. “We’ve got this. You need to go be with your mother.”
“I’m sorry.” Nancy took off her apron and Reed reached for it.
“It’s okay. Let me know how she is,” Julie assured Nancy.
Nancy hurried out the door and Julie looked at her list. The list with Nancy’s name written by so many items. Time to regroup. Her heart raced and she pressed her palms against her hips. She could do this. She could.
“I’ll clean this up, then you let me know what I can do to help.” Reed smiled at her. “It will be fine.”
She smiled back at him, but she wasn’t sure it would be fine. There was so much to do and she’d planned on Nancy’s help and expertise to get it all done. Reed was eager to help… but he was no baker.
* * *
Reed did everything Julie told him to do, even when he didn’t really know what he was actually doing. He hauled stuff, he measured ingredients, he took things out of the oven. He poured tall glasses of ice water as the heat in the kitchen rose to an oppressive level, even with the air conditioning struggling to keep up.
He paused to wipe the sweat from his face with a dish towel and looked over at Julie. Her face glistened from the heat, and a few wisps of curls escaped her tied-back hair, framing her face.
She looked worried as she stood staring at her list. She bit the end of her pencil and her forehead wrinkled in concentration.
“What next, boss?” Reed walked over to stand next to her. She looked adorable all covered in a fine dusting of flour and flushed cheeks. He wanted to kiss that cheek and wipe away the trail of flour, but he’d promised himself he’d slow down. He didn’t want to scare her off… or scare himself off. He had no missteps left with their budding friendship-maybe-relationship.
“I’m going to start baking a lot at once. Can you set an alarm for fifteen minutes for oven one, and twenty-five minutes for oven two?”
He pulled out his cell phone and set the two alarms. “Got it.”
She pointed to a tray of… some kind of appetizers. “Put those in that oven.”
He did as he was told.
She kept going the rest of the afternoon. Telling him what alarms to set, what trays to pull. He could feel himself slowing down, but there was no way he was going to rest, not when she was like a tireless ball of energy.
“Where are the canapés?” Julie walked up to him.
“The whats?”
“The canapés that should have come out of the oven—” She looked at her watch. “Ten minutes ago.”
“Which oven?” He turned around and knew exactly which oven. The one with smoke coming out of it.
She whirled around at the same time, rushed to the oven, and yanked out multiple trays of burnt appetizers.
“Darn it.” She dropped the trays onto the counter.
Reed looked at his phone and realized he hadn’t clicked start on the last set of alarms. “I’m sorry. I messed up. I didn’t start the timer.”
Julie sighed. “Can you open the door?”
The smoke detector went off and Julie walked over to it and waved a tray until the alarm quit.
“I’ve got to come up with something else to make, but the appetizers that are ready need to go over to Camille’s mother’s house now.” Julie looked at the trays ready to load into the van, each tray precisely covered and a note attached with heating instructions for the servers.
Reed knew he couldn’t help with baking more food, but he was not going to let his mistake mess up Julie’s big catering order. His heart pounded in his chest and a panic raced through him. He stomped it down. Julie needed him.
“I’ll drive the order over.”
Julie looked at him in surprise. “I thought you don’t drive.”
“I don’t. Well, I haven’t in a while. But I know how to, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“You have a license?” Julie looked at him, her eyes crinkled in doubt.
“I do. I’ll get the van loaded up and you give me directions to Camille’s place.”
Julie nodded, but didn’t look convinced.
Heck, he wasn’t convinced he could do it, but he was going to try.
Chapter 16
Reed tugged the van door open and stared into the driver’s seat. A long tear snaked along the vinyl seat. He should fix that for Julie. Get some duct tape.
Climb into the van.
He took a deep breath and swung into the driver’s seat, clutching the van keys. He looked down at his hand and talked himself into uncurling his fingers from around the key. His heart pounded as he slowly, ever-so-slowly, put the key into the ignition.
Turn the key.
He looked out the window and noticed Julie’s worried expression. He swallowed and turned his gaze back to the ignition. With a burst of determination he turned the key. The van ground to life. He put it in reverse and backed away from the bakery door. Maybe driving was like riding a bike. You never forget how.
Sweat rolled down his face, but he ignored it. He focused on pulling the van out of the alley behind the bakery and out onto the street. At the end of the lane he looked both ways, flipped on the blinker, and turned right. He inched his way out onto the road then drove down the block to the first stop sign. He flicked off the radio Julie must have left on. He needed no distractions.
His breath came in jagged gasps, and it took every ounce of control to concentrate on the road. After checking to make sure he’d plenty of time to enter the intersection, he inched forward and drove through the crossing.
Breathe. Just breathe. You can do this.
He checked the speedometer, glanced in the rear view mirror, the side mirrors, and forced himself to just watch the road. He glanced at the odometer and saw he’d only gone a mile. It seemed like he’d been driving for an hour. His hands gripped the steering wheel in a fight to keep the van moving straight down
the road.
He saw the street sign that alerted him he needed to make another turn. He came to a stop and scanned both directions. As he looked to the right he saw a large black truck speeding down street. He froze, suspended in time.
A black truck.
He closed his eyes, unable to move.
A car honked from behind him. Still, he didn’t open his eyes. Another honk blared through the van. He opened his eyes and forced himself to turn the corner, slowly, carefully. Once he turned the corner, he immediately pulled over to the side of the road.
His heart raced and the world swirled around him. Waves of nausea pummeled him. He put the van in park and sat trying to pull himself together. He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel, fighting the fear, fighting the disappointment. He was going to fail Julie. She’d depended on him, and he just wasn’t able to do this. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
He opened his eyes at the sound of a rap on the window.
“Are you okay?” Susan stood beside the van with a worried look on her face.
He rolled down the window. “I… well… no.”
“I thought you didn’t drive.”
“It appears that I don’t.” Reed stared at his hands, his knuckles white from still clutching the steering wheel.
“Then what are you doing with the van?”
“I was trying to deliver Julie’s order to Camille’s.”
“She sent you to do that?”
“I burnt some stuff—all my fault—and she stayed to make more. I was trying to help…”
Susan tugged the driver’s door open. “Get out. Get in the passenger seat. I’ll drive. You sit. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
Reed did as he was told, glad to leave that terrifying driver’s seat. “Thank you.”
“No problem. We’ll get this delivered, then I’ll drive the van back to the bakery.”
“I really appreciate this.”
“You need to talk to Julie, though. Don’t try driving again until you get some help.”
“I thought… I thought enough time had gone by.” It hadn’t though. The black truck had been his undoing. He shouldn’t have tried to drive the first time when so much depended on him.
* * *
Susan pulled the van up to the back of Camille’s mother’s beach house. Reed finally had a bit of color back in his face. That was good. He could help unload the delivery.
Camille came rushing out of the house. “You’re late.” She stopped when she saw Susan driving the van. “Where’s Julie?”
“She’ll be over with more in just a bit.”
“Are you sure? I told Mama it was risky to take a chance on Julie.”
Susan spun around. “Camille, everything is fine. Julie is the best baker on the island, probably in this whole area of Florida. Now Reed and I will bring the food in and Julie will be here soon with more.”
Camille’s face scrunched in an I’m-still-not-convinced frown. “Well, I do have to go get ready. I sure hope we haven’t made a mistake.”
Susan gritted her teeth and stayed silent.
“Mama will give her a piece of her mind if everything isn’t perfect.” Camille turned and marched away, every bit of her southern belle outrage evident in each retreating step.
Reed walked up beside her. “Here, let me get the food inside.”
They carried the trays of food in and then climbed back into the van.
“I’ve messed things up for Julie, haven’t I?”
“No, that’s just Camille being Camille. I’m sure it will be fine.”
“I hope so.” Reed turned and looked out the window.
Susan drove the van back to the bakery and Julie came outside.
“Susan?” Julie looked from Susan to Reed, her eyes full of questions.
“Just jumped in to help a bit.” Susan got out of the van and handed the keys to Julie.
Reed got out of the van and walked over to Julie. “I’m sorry… I just… couldn’t. I tried. I did.”
“It’s okay, Reed.” Julie reached out and placed her hand on his arm.
Reed nodded, then turned around and walked down the alley, his shoulders sloped in defeat.
“What is going on?” Julie watched Reed’s retreat.
“I don’t think he was ready to drive. I found him pulled over on the side of the road. We delivered your food, by the way. Everything’s fine. Now let’s get the rest of the food loaded up and you can drop me off at my car. I left it where I stopped to check on Reed.”
“I don’t understand…”
“I think you’ll need to ask Reed.”
* * *
Julie put the last of the order in the van and took one last look around the kitchen. Everything was back in shape from the disasters of the day. The kitchen was ready for her to come in early and bake the morning order for Camille’s mother. She flicked off the light, locked the door, and climbed into the van.
She drove over to the beach house and unloaded the last of the food. Just as she was placing the last tray in the kitchen, Camille’s mother came sailing into the room. “Ah, Julie. There’s the rest of the order.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll get the trays in the morning when I deliver your breakfast pastries.” Julie stood, poised to flee, but wanted to act professionally.
“I’m glad you got here. Camille was worried.”
“No need to worry. I said I’d have the order here.” Julie looked at her watch. “Did the servers have any questions? I left instructions on each tray for heating the food.”
“Well, my lands, I have no idea. I just let them do their job.” Camille’s mother looked perplexed. “I guess everything is okay. I’ve heard my guest complimenting the appetizers, saying everything is delicious.”
A huge wave of relief tumbled over Julie. That’s what she needed, for people to take notice of her catering.
Camille’s mother turned away, then as an afterthought looked back over her shoulder. “Early tomorrow then, right? I have some guests who are early risers.”
“I’m be here.”
With that, Camille’s mother disappeared from the kitchen.
Julie breathed a sigh of relief and headed back to the van. She needed a shower and clean clothes. She needed to get off her foot, too. Then she’d deal with Reed. But this time was different. It wasn’t so much he was walking away from her, as walking away from himself. He’d looked so defeated. She was going to track the man down and make him talk to her.
* * *
Julie took a long, cool shower, rinsing away the sweat of the day. She really needed to get that air conditioner in the kitchen fixed. It did work better after Reed had fixed the thermostat, but the old unit could barely keep up when the weather got hot. The merciless heat in the kitchen today had just about killed her.
She toweled off and pulled on a simple, light-weight sundress. She didn’t have it in her to blow-dry her hair, so she just brushed it, twisted it into a loose braid, and left it to air dry. She slipped on her most comfortable, practical, but so-not-cute sandals and headed over to the inn, determined to find Reed and talk to him. Or, more exactly, get him to talk to her.
She debated driving, because her foot was still sore, but the breeze had picked up and it was a lovely night. She decided to walk since it was such a short distance to the inn.
She pushed into the lobby and saw Susan look up from the reception desk and wave. Julie crossed the worn wooden floor, smooth from years of wear and refinishing.
“Have you seen Reed around?” Julie leaned against the counter.
“Did you walk here? Aren’t you supposed to stay off that foot?”
“It’s better. Some better. Anyway it’s a beautiful night out. But you didn’t answer my question.”
“I saw him go out to the deck earlier. Not sure if he took a walk, or he’s out on the deck. It’s a quiet night here. Everyone is over at Camille’s mother’s party.”
“I’ll just go out there and look.”
Susan reached over and covered Julie’s hand. “He was really shaken when I found him. Maybe if you can get him to talk… well, maybe that will help him.”
“I’m going to try.”
Julie crossed the lobby and pushed out onto the deck. Muted strings of warm white lights illuminated the area. A couple sat at the outside bar and she spotted Reed sitting at a table by the railing, staring out at the ocean. She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and headed over.
“Reed.”
He turned around at the sound of her voice.
“Julie.”
Julie perched on the chair beside him. “I thought we could talk.”
He turned and looked back out at the sea without answering her.
“Please?” She reached over and touched his arm. “Maybe it will help to explain. Why don’t you tell me what happened? Why don’t you drive?”
He turned and looked directly at her with a look of raw pain in his eyes. A shiver of emotion spun through her at the agony in his eyes. She waited for him to speak.
“I… I killed my wife.”
Chapter 17
“What?” Julie’s eyes widened, and he could see the surprise and maybe hesitation in her eyes. He noticed a fleeting look of panic, like she wanted to run from him. She took her hand off of his arm and the coolness taunted him where the heat of her hand had just been.
He continued on, saying the words he’d never said to anyone. Ever. But every word was the truth. “It’s my fault she died. I killed her. I had a business function to go to the night she died. She really didn’t want to go, she was exhausted from a long day of work. But I wheedled, and pleaded, and guilted her into going. I said she needed to be there. The truth was, I hated to go to business dinners like those without her. She would waltz into these things, put people at ease, remember everyone’s names, and light up the room. That night was no exception.” He paused remembering so vividly how Victoria had been just so… sparkly that night.
