I slowed down on my approach. The clink of cutlery on the plates was soft, so was the dull hum, and I could just make out his conversation.
“Are you serious? Yeah, I’m kind of in the middle of something here.” He paused and shook his head. “No, I’m not complaining. It’s just,” he broke off and listened for a second, “it’s her. I’m with her.”
A ton of ice water dropped into my stomach, spreading coldness from my belly to my extremities.
“Yeah, I guess. Okay, I’ll be there in ten.” He hung up.
I strode forward to meet him, pretending I hadn’t heard him talking about me to a stranger on the other end of the phone. Talking like I was an inconvenience. Or something annoying him tonight. What kind of twisted game was he playing? Or was I just being paranoid?
“There you are,” Gabe said, flashing that smile. All charm and sweetness. It made my insides clench tight. “I was starting to get worried.”
My stomach lurched again. A veiled chastisement at how long I’d kept him waiting. “Here I am,” I replied, then slid into the chair opposite him. I placed my second-hand Coach clutch on top of the table and waited.
“Are you okay?” he asked, wriggling his lips from side-to-side. “I thought you’d gotten sick or something.”
“What? Why?”
“You were in there for a long time, Allegra.”
“Ally,” I corrected, then slipped my bag off the table and into my lap. “No one calls me Allegra.”
“I do,” Gabe corrected. He waved his hand to summon the waiter for the check. “I’m sorry to do this, but something’s come up. An emergency at work. I’ve got to run.”
We hadn’t had the entrees yet, we hadn’t even ordered them, but it was a relief to escape this with my feelings and pride intact. I hadn’t even had to pull the plug myself. Waves of relief should be washing over me. Why then did I feel even sicker? Sure, my female ego had taken a knock, but that was a small price to pay.
“That’s fine. No one understands work emergencies more than I do,” I said shrugging.
“I hope you don’t think this classifies as a proper first date,” he replied, “because it doesn’t. I’ll call you.” He stretched his neck and scratched it.
“Don’t —” I couldn’t take that trite blow-off about calling. Not from him. Not after everything that had transpired to bring us to this restaurant.
“I’m not giving you a line of bullshit.” Gabe leaned in and gazed into my eyes, softening his lips by pressing them together. “You bring out a side of me I didn’t know existed. I like it. It scares me, but I like it. I want to see you again and I won’t take no for an answer.”
The sincerity struck me in the chest. I flattened my hand over it to calm the fluttering of my heartbeat and his eyes followed my hand to the seam where my red dress ended and my cleavage began. “I guess, yeah, okay. You know where to find me.”
“I’d much rather have your number. It’s Stalker 101 that I have to hunt you down at your bakery every time I want to chat,” he said, then barked a laugh.
Tell him no.
Tell him no.
Tell him no.
Instead of following my brains good advice, I found myself opening my clutch, fumbling around inside for my business card. The one I’d been so proud of when I’d created it myself online with gold embossed foil. The same color scheme as the bakery. “I guess you’re right.” I produced the card and slid it across the table, so I wouldn’t have to touch those massive hands.
He caught my wrist and turned it over, then run his thumb across my skin, over the pulse. Thank God for the deep breathing. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight, Allegra.”
“That’s fine, I mean, it was my pleasure,” I said, but suspicion broiled alongside the nerves. What was this guy’s deal?
Gabe rose, holding the card. He flicked it between his fingers. “I’ll be in touch.”
Chapter 10
“He just left you there?” Kelly rubbed her fingertips over her temples. It was the end of the day and she’d obviously had a long one. Christmas was a crazy time of the year, and they’d had an influx of business, thanks to the Starbucks red cup controversy. The corporate conglomerate’s loss was Kelly’s gain.
“He paid the bill at least, and he asked for my card so he could call and plan another date. A proper first date he called it. But yeah, he left me there.” I sighed and leaned across the counter in the coffee shop.
Pat locked up behind me, grunting sourly when a customer banged on the door. “We’re closed,” he said gesturing to the white sign hanging from thin wire. “No, no, closed. Come back tomorrow!”
The guy whined something about caffeine withdrawals through the glass and banged again.
“Merry Christmas to you too,” Pat replied, then turned and marched off to the kitchen, grumbling about rudeness during the holiday season.
“I can’t wrap my mind around this guy. He pursues you like crazy, then ditches you at the restaurant. What the hell?” Kelly turned and made two cups of coffee, pumping the arm of the coffee grinder to fill the bowl beneath it. “I mean, a little mystery is good, but that’s just plain strange. And rude.”
“I didn’t even tell you the best part.”
“There’s always a best part with you,” Kelly said, then switched on the milk frothing machine. “Tell me.”
“He took a call first. I went to the bathroom because I felt like I was about to have a panic attack and when I came out, he was on the phone to someone and he mentioned me. He said her, like it was some kind of dirty word.”
“What?! No way,” Kelly said, huffing out air through her open mouth. She took out two cups for cappuccinos.
“Yes way. He told the guy or woman or whoever that he was with me. He hung up before I sat down, then told me he had to get to work. An emergency.” I accepted a cup from her and slurped the foam off the top. Ah, I felt better already.
“That’s suspicious as hell. What’s he playing at?”
“I don’t know, but it sure didn’t sound like a work call. It was way more, friendly, you know.”
“I wonder if it was another woman,” Kelly mused, drinking some of her own cappuccino and getting foam on her top lip. She didn’t wipe it off, so I took a napkin and swiped the milk moustache away for her. “Mmm, thanks.”
“Why would he tell another woman about me? No, it was something weirder. I don’t know who it was.”
“Maybe you should stay away from this guy,” she offered.
“That’s the plan,” I replied. Hopefully, I could pull that off. Though, the way he made me feel had me doubting it. Weak. In the knees, in the heart, in the soul. “I don’t know. I can’t —” I shook my head and focused on my cappuccino instead of my best friend’s expression.
“Spill,” she insisted. Kelly always knew when something was up with me. Like a bloodhound on the trail of an escapee.
“I dunno. It’s like … this should be a really simple thing to do, this whole ‘don’t see him again’ thing.”
“Yeah, definitely. But you want to see him again, don’t you?” Kelly pursed her lips. There was still foam in the corner of her mouth and she licked at it.
“I don’t know why. Okay, I do. He’s gorgeous and interesting, and he gives me this feeling.”
“A feeling in the nether regions?” Kelly asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Ew, no, stop,” I smacked her arm, then conceded the point with a head wiggle. “Yeah, that too.”
Kelly burst out laughing, then shifted her cappuccino cup aside and grasped me by the forearms. “You haven’t had anyone in a long time. Maybe this phone call was an innocent thing and you’re just jumping to conclusions because you’re afraid of getting involved.”
“Maybe,” I said, fighting the urge to chew on my nail.
“Or maybe, he’s a total psycho and he’s planning on murdering you while you sleep.”
I stared at her. “What the fuck?!”
Kelly laughed
again, a snort escaping her this time. “My point is, what’s the worst that could happen? I’ve been begging you to go on a date for months now. If this is the guy who gets you all hot and bothered, then what are you waiting for?”
“Divine intervention,” I murmured. “Someone to wake me up.”
“Chances are, the attraction will fizzle and this will end up as a fling. A romance you can tell your grandkids about one day. The tame version, obviously. Then it won’t matter who he was on the phone with,” Kelly paused and patted my hand. “Or, you’ll end up together and will find out what the phone call was about anyway. It’s a win-win.”
I stared at her, a smile lifting the corners of my lips. ‘Convincing Kelly’ at her best. But I didn’t doubt her motives. She always wanted what was best for me. Apparently, she thought that was Gabe.
“I guess I’ll answer his call, then,” I said. “If he actually does call, of course.”
Kelly rolled her eyes at me. “Of course.”
Another customer banged on the door, rattling it in its frame.
“Hey!” Pat came charging out of the office. “Do you not see the sign? We’re closed — I tell you — closed. It’s after seven, go home!” He flapped his arms to shoo the hapless customer on the other side of the glass.
I stifled a giggle in my fist. Kelly joined me.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Pat grumbled, walking past us. But he paused and reserved a kiss for his wife, a chaste one on the cheek, which spoke of more to come. While I liked Pat, I couldn’t quite understand the Jekyll & Hyde routine. But Kelly adored him and he was certainly never boring. And the same could be said for the intriguing Gabe.
Chapter 11
I stood in the kitchen and folded my arms across my breasts.
The insurance guy was a ratty dude with a bald pate and a moustache that looked like it’d gone through the chipper in the movie Fargo. Worse yet. He stunk. To high heaven like mothballs and stale booze.
He’d spent the first five minutes in the kitchen, snooping around, opening containers, sniffing things with his overly long nose. Ogling the cupcakes like they were flour filled porn stars. Gooseflesh crept up my forearms and landed on the back of my neck where all the fine hairs stood at attention.
“So, you said the fire was at what time exactly?”
“After nine at night,” I repeated, for the twentieth time. “It’s all in the police report.”
“Yes, yes, I see that here, but it’s procedure to ask these questions. Can’t be too careful, you know,” he grumbled. He’d introduced himself as Mr. Brown, and worn a suit to match his name. Hounds tooth tweed with leather patches on the elbows. Polyester slacks and tennis shoes completed his outfit.
“Do you really need me here for this? I should be out front. Tess isn’t great with customers,” I said.
He gave me a look. “Yes, I need you here for this. I also need you to be quiet.” He raised his clipboard and made a note. The nib of his pen scratched along the paper, making harsh marks and ticks.
This guy was a royal dickhead. He was everything Gabe wasn’t. Jesus, why did thoughts of Gabe fill my head every time an empty spot cleared. I chewed the inside of my cheek. I couldn’t think of him now, I had to focus. If the insurance company didn’t pay out, I’d be screwed. I wouldn’t be able to afford another oven with all the loans I had to pay off, and the bakery hadn’t broken even yet.
Gabe floated through my mind regardless. Mocking me with his presence in my thoughts. This time, he didn’t have his shirt on and his hair was rumpled. From my fingers threading through it.
“And the official cause of the fire?”
“They think there was a short,” I said, trying to keep my voice level.
“Right, a short.” Brown twiddled the pen, then clicked the end once, twice. “A short. And most of the damage was contained to this area?” He pointed to the soot-stained oven and the shelves I’d stacked on top of it.
“No, I moved those from over here,” I pointed at the wall where the fire had started, then at the damaged goods. “I had to get them out of the way so I could continue with work as usual. I couldn’t delay my grand opening another day.”
“You moved them? Well that’s not good, Miss Wilson. Not good at all,” he murmured, scratching another note on his official form.
I’d had it. “What did you expect me to do? Leave it there? I have a bakery to run and it took you people a month to send someone out to come and assess the damages.” I unfolded my arms and let them hang at my sides, clenching my fists sporadically. Kind of like a muscle twitch. The pain from my fingernails digging into that tender flesh didn’t even register until I’d almost drawn blood.
This guy was one giant pain in the ass.
“Miss Wilson, Allegra, please keep your voice down. I am trying to concentrate,” he purred my first name like an endearment, peering at me over his clipboard. The first name I hadn’t given this douche bag permission to use. “The quieter you are, the quicker and easier this process will be.”
“You literally just asked me a question,” I countered.
He waved my comment away, then scratched notes with a vengeance.
I settled back against my kitchen counter and watched him with narrowed eyes. What a sleazebag. If he didn’t come through with a good report, I wouldn’t get the money for this. Then I’d have to find this weasel and slap him full on in the face.
My palm itched to do it now. He was so rude.
Not like Gabe.
I groaned and Mr. Brown shot me a warning look. I didn’t flip him off. I wanted to, though. The middle finger salute would never feel better than in this moment.
It’d been two weeks since I’d last seen Gabe and he hadn’t called. I’d really hoped he was different and I felt like a complete and utter ninny for trusting him. Believing in him. Maybe he really was a player to the core with his fancy wardrobe, fancy restaurant and even fancier bottle of wine. Not a hint of contact, not a glimmer of interest. After he’d insisted on getting my number.
Kelly thought he was a total tool for making me wait this long, but I figured the crazy fog had lifted and he’d decided he didn’t want to date me after all. Something better had come along. I was sure of it.
Or maybe he’d taken my dozen ‘no way am I going out with you’s to heart.
That was fine by me, easier to focus on work without some oversized hunk of meat hanging around. Very delicious hunk of meat. With a six-pack and ocean colored eyes and thick, silky hair that begged to be rumpled into bed-head.
“A short. Are you sure this was a short?” Brown bent over his potbelly and opened the damaged oven’s door. “It seems highly unlikely.”
“I can’t say whether it’s likely or not. That was the official cause of the fire. I assume the Minneapolis fire investigators are experts.”
I’d guessed it correctly that night. The oven had been faulty to start with. That was what I got for buying second hand stuff. At least I’d had the forethought to insure it.
“And they investigated that thoroughly?” Brown asked, narrowing his eyes. “They had an electrician come down here and check it out?”
“I assume so. They are the official experts. They tend to do things thoroughly.” I clipped the sentences off short and glared at him. What the hell was he getting at here? Did he think I started the fire in my own bakery?
“I see,” Brown said. He rose and closed the oven door, then grimaced at the soot staining his delicate fingers.
I didn’t offer him a napkin, just stared at him and waited for his verdict. My pulse quickened and my belly squirmed at the thought of losing it all. Just because some insurance dude had a bad attitude because he'd been beat with the ugly stick. No ring. Probably hadn’t been laid since the seventies.
“Hmmm, hmmm,” he made too distinct marks at the bottom of his form, then looked up at me. “Miss Wilson, I’m afraid we’ll have to send along one of our own technicians to have a look at your oven. We need to determine the real c
ause of the fire.”
“I’ve just told you the real cause of the fire,” I replied, gritting my teeth until they squeaked.
“Yes, you have. But as I said, one can never be too careful.” Brown strode toward me and I straightened to meet him. He brought out a card and I accepted it from his outstretched fingers. “We’ll be in touch to organize a date for the assessment.”
“And how long will that take?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Wilson, I really can’t say.” Then he turned and walked out of the kitchen, his nose in the air.
“Shit.”
I crumpled the card in my fist and let it drift to the flour stained floor below.
Chapter 12
I picked up the creased card and dumped it in the trash can as I glared at the offending oven. Tess was still out there with the customers, but I needed one fucking moment to compose myself before going out front. If I could have punched Mr. Brown in his smug face and gotten away with it, he’d be sporting a shiner worthy of the WWE.
I’d built this bakery after Matthew had left me in the lurch. Not to mention my own damn family. I’d been without any prospects, no job, engaged to a man who thought a Stepford Wife was more palatable than an ambitious woman. One with goals. With dreams. He’d laughed at my idea when I told him the first time.
Ambition wasn’t Matthew’s ‘style’. He was a plodder in every way. Even in the bedroom. He’d just gone at it until he came, then rolled over and fallen asleep. My pleasure, my feelings weren’t important. I wasn’t important.
Matthew hadn’t been verbally abusive, he’d never hurt me physically either, but our relationship had been empty. I'd felt a deep hole inside and that crater had grown wider with each day we were together. He’d shown me what I didn’t want from my life, especially when we’d both discovered the truth.
“Allegra,” a deep voice rumbled behind me.
I shrieked and spun on the spot, hand fluttering to my mouth then landing on my heart.
Gabe stood just inside the doorway to the kitchen. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Line: Alpha Billionaire Romance Page 26
