by Linda Seed
After a good meal and even better wine, they’d gone back to Brian’s new rental, which was blissfully free of parents—either his or hers.
They let Thor outside to pee, and when they called him in, Cassie was unbuttoning Brian’s shirt before they even got the door closed.
“I’ll bet you’re glad to be rid of Lorenzo,” she said as she untucked his shirt and slid it off his shoulders.
“Don’t say that name.”
“I just meant—”
“No, seriously, don’t say that name if you want me to be able to … you know. Perform.”
As it turned out, performance wasn’t an issue. He even took a couple of curtain calls.
They both took full advantage of the fact that they could be as noisy as they wanted without alerting anybody’s family to their activities. Back at the trailer, Cassie more than once had slapped a hand over Brian’s mouth to keep him quiet in the throes of passion. Here, in a space that was only theirs, noise was not only tolerated but encouraged.
When they finished in the bedroom, they even took a shower together—something that would not have been possible in Cassie’s trailer.
“I could get used to this,” Brian said when they were back in bed, showered and sated. “All that sneaking around at your place made me feel like I was sixteen. Not that it wasn’t fun. But this … It’s full-grown adult sex. It’s a whole different animal.”
“Right?” Cassie snuggled up closer to him. “I’ve got to get out of that trailer. I mean, it’s been nice not to have to pay rent. Better than nice—it’s been essential, given how expensive rent is here and how Elliot pays me like he’s Scrooge McDuck. But I’m too old to have my dad waiting up for me and chasing men away.”
“Men?” Brian’s eyebrows rose. “Plural?”
She rolled onto her stomach and grinned at him. “I was speaking generally.”
“Well, speaking more specifically, now that we’re together … in both the dating sense and the physical sense … I wonder if maybe it makes sense to make the plural … you know. Singular.”
Her smile widened. “Brian, are you asking me to go steady?”
He blushed a little, and that was cute as hell. “I’m just saying, I won’t be seeing anyone else. Not while this thing with us is still going on. And I hoped …”
“Yes, I’ll go steady with you. And I won’t bring anybody else to my trailer.” She stretched toward him and kissed him, covered only in a sheet.
“Great. That’s great. And about your money situation … have you given any more thought to my mother’s offer?”
Cassie had been avoiding the subject, hoping she could have the meeting with Lisa’s attorney under the radar. What point was there in upsetting Brian if the thing with the bakery didn’t work out anyway? But now that he was asking her a direct question—while they were both naked—she couldn’t lie to him.
“I … ah … I have a video conference with her attorney on Monday.”
“Cassie—”
“It’s just a meeting. I don’t even know what she’s going to offer me, specifically. I don’t know the terms. It might not even work out. It’s just … It makes sense to at least listen, doesn’t it?”
He kissed her forehead and rubbed a hand over her shoulder. “Yes. It does.”
“I know you don’t like this, and I can see why. I really can. But the bakery means a lot to me, Brian. And without something like this—without the kind of money your mother can give me—I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make it happen.”
“Well, I disagree with that. I think we can come up with other options. Still. I get that you need to have the meeting. You need to see what she’s offering.”
She hadn’t realized how worried she was about his reaction until that reaction came. Now, she was so relieved that he hadn’t blown up at her that tears sprang to her eyes.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I still don’t think it’s a good idea. But I don’t want to be the guy who steps on your dreams.”
“Then, thank you for not being the guy who steps on my dreams.”
She settled in beside him with his arm tucked around her and wondered if he was right. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she was being manipulated.
And maybe there were other ways to get what she needed—maybe even the YouTube idea.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to listen.
On Monday, Cassie went to the office of Clayton Drummond, a local attorney whose name she’d been given through the Cambria grapevine. Cassie had asked Lacy, and Lacy had asked her friend Genevieve Porter, who’d asked her husband, Ryan Delaney, who’d asked his brother, Colin Delaney, a Harvard-educated lawyer who did all of the real estate and investment work for his wealthy family.
Colin himself was too busy—and lived too far away—to handle the matter himself, but he’d said Clayton Drummond was reliable and solid and, more importantly, wouldn’t rip Cassie off.
On Colin’s urging, Drummond had agreed to forego a retainer and simply charge his hourly rate for the consultation, reasoning that they could renegotiate if the meeting turned into anything more complicated.
That was fine, but his hourly rate—at three hundred dollars—still was a lot for her to hand over without knowing whether Lisa’s offer would come to anything.
Still, she needed to approach this like an adult, and an adult knew when to be frugal and when it made sense to spend the money. In this case, she knew spending the money was the right thing to do.
She went to Drummond’s office at the appointed time, trying to ignore the nerves that roiled in her stomach like birds flapping their wings.
“Cassie. Sit down.” He ushered her into his office and got her settled in his visitor’s chair.
Drummond, a grandfatherly man with a stout frame and a balding head, folded his hands on top of his desk—a bargain model that looked like it came from Ikea—and smiled.
“Why don’t you tell me about your goals, first of all, so I’ll know what we’re looking for going in?”
Cassie left Drummond’s office with an offer from Lisa that spelled out the details: what expenses Lisa would cover, what percentage of the profits she would receive, what roles she would and would not play in daily business decisions, and how either one of them could go about severing the agreement, should they decide it was no longer beneficial.
Drummond negotiated a few things, managing to secure a few more percentage points of the profits for Cassie to keep for herself. Overall, though, he thought it was a solid offer, and he told Cassie she should strongly consider it.
Lisa had only been adamant on one point: she wanted veto power over Cassie’s choice of location for her business. Cassie could look wherever she wanted, but Lisa had to agree before the rental papers were signed.
Cassie hesitated on that, unsure whether she wanted to give up that power, but on the other hand, it was reasonable, wasn’t it? If Lisa was going to be paying the rent, why shouldn’t she have a say in where the bakery would be located?
She didn’t sign the contract that day, because Drummond advised her to take a couple of days to think about it.
“How did the meeting go?” Brian asked on the phone later that afternoon. He’d caught her while she was scrubbing a toilet at a rental house in Leimert, and she put him on speaker as she continued to work.
“It was good. My lawyer said it was a good offer. He didn’t flat-out tell me to take it, but I could tell he wanted to.”
He was silent for a moment while she attended to the underside of the bowl.
“So, what do you think? Are you going to do it?” he asked finally.
She straightened up and wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of one hand. “Honestly? I think I might. I know you’re unsure about it, but do you know how long it would take me to pull together the money without her help? I’ll be baking cakes on the moon, because people will be living there by then.”
“I could help you.
I have some savings. Maybe I could—”
“No.”
“But Cassie—”
“I said no.” It had come out more forcefully than she’d intended it, and she softened her tone. “Thank you for offering. Really. It’s sweet of you. But this thing we have is too new for us to get into a money thing together. There’s a good chance it would ruin everything, Brian, and I don’t want that.”
Of course, they were already getting into a money thing with the YouTube videos, but she thought it best not to bring that up.
“There’s a chance that you going into business with my mother could ruin everything, too,” he said.
“Well.” She flushed the cleaning solution down the toilet and closed the lid, replacing the brush in its holder. “I’m just going to hope that doesn’t happen.”
Brian walked out onto his patio, looked out at the ocean view—this one distant, unlike the close-up view at Otter Bluff—and worried that the best relationship he’d had in a long time was about to go swirling down into some fiery hell-pit.
With his mother involved, how could it do anything else?
He tried calling his mother, thinking he’d warn her not to mess with either his love life or his girlfriend, but Lorenzo wouldn’t let him talk to her. The bastard wouldn’t let him talk to his own mother.
“She’s painting,” he said. “For Art Basel. She told me she would cut certain parts of my body off with a kitchen knife if I interrupted her. I’m fond of those parts, Brian.”
So here he was, feeling helpless to stop the train wreck he was sure was coming.
But then again, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Lisa really did think the bakery would be a good investment. Maybe she wanted to help Cassie because Brian cared about her—and maybe it was Lisa’s way of making amends for being a crappy mother all of his life.
Maybe this was even a turning point for them, the place after which they would have a better, closer relationship. Maybe he would one day look back on this time, this event, and say to himself, That was when I realized she’d changed. That was when I knew she really loved me.
Or maybe monkeys would fly out his ass.
The two possibilities seemed equally probable.
Chapter 24
Cassie signed the contract two days later using a notary who worked at Clayton Drummond’s office.
She had a lot going on right now: three new cake orders had come in as a result of Brian’s YouTube video, she was still maintaining a full-time schedule at Central Coast Escapes, and now she had a bakery to set up.
She was so excited she could barely think about anything else besides the bakery.
“What about Blue Iris?” Nancy asked over dinner that night as Cassie sat at the kitchen table with her parents. A plate of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans sat in front of Cassie, largely untouched because she’d been too excited to eat.
“What about it?”
“The building. The restaurant went out of business six months ago, and it’s still vacant. Maybe you could try there.”
Cassie summoned up the restaurant in her memory—she’d eaten there a few times, and she tried to recall the space.
“It’s too big,” she decided. “There’s a dining room, a bar—I don’t need all that. All I need is a kitchen, a display case, and a sales counter.”
“Maybe you’re thinking too small,” her dad suggested. “Why not have tables where people could sit and eat pastries? And you could use the bar for espresso and fancy coffee drinks.”
“Oh, but—”
“Oooh. I like that,” Nancy said. “And you could have lunch items. Quiches and whatnot.”
“Mom. Dad. I can’t afford all that,” Cassie said.
“Maybe not,” Vince said. “But Lisa Barlow can.”
At first, the idea of Blue Iris seemed completely impossible. But if her parents thought it could be done, then maybe it could. Nancy and Vince Jordan were among the most sensible people Cassie knew, and they wouldn’t urge her to hope for the unattainable.
She found a sign in the window of the shuttered restaurant, took down the name of the leasing agent, and, with her hands shaking slightly with nerves, she made the call.
The rent was shocking, but Cassie wasn’t the one who’d be paying it. All Lisa could do was say no.
She thought of taking Brian with her to look at the property, but then she changed her mind and asked Lacy instead. Brian was too ambivalent about the whole thing—he might dislike anything she considered just because his mother was involved. And she didn’t want to hear negativity right now. She wanted to be excited.
From the moment Cassie walked into the place, it was clear that this wasn’t right for her. The dining room was too big, the kitchen was more than she needed, and the price was so high it was unlikely she’d be able to turn a profit.
But walking through the place, with its hardwood floors, its gleaming bar stretched across one end of the room, its kitchen with acres of stainless steel work space, she had ideas—one after another.
Of course she could have a small seating area where customers could enjoy pastries and coffee and maybe work on their laptops. Of course she could have espresso drinks. Of course her bakery could be a gathering place —not just a commercial kitchen to satisfy the health department.
“God, Lacy. This could be so great.” Cassie whispered it to Lacy out of earshot of the agent.
Lacy looked thoughtful. “It’s a little big. I mean, yes, you might have some breakfast and lunch foods, but—”
“Not this place. It’s huge. It would never work. I meant the bakery in general.”
“Oh.” Lacy perked up. “Yes! It’s going to be awesome. I can’t wait.”
When Cassie gave her decision to the agent, a middle-aged brunette in dark slacks and a powder blue polo shirt, the woman said she had another property across town that might work better. Did Cassie want to see it?
“What is it?” Cassie asked.
“Do you remember Moonstone Mocha? It was a coffeehouse that was open for about five minutes last year?”
Cassie turned to Lacy. “I don’t. Do you?”
Lacy had been a barista at Jitters on Main Street until she’d left work to become a stay-at-home mom, so she tended to keep up on the coffee-related developments in town. “Yeah, I do. Great location, but they had really limited hours and a tiny menu. I remember thinking at the time that they wouldn’t stay in business long, and they didn’t.”
“That’s the one.” The agent nodded. “It’s adorable. Shall we take a look?”
Cassie fell in love with it the moment she stepped inside. The former Moonstone Mocha was a converted cottage on Main Street at the end of East Village. It had a covered porch, front and back yards landscaped in drought-tolerant plantings, two small rooms that would accommodate cafe tables, and a kitchen with new appliances that looked like it had been updated by the previous owners.
“When was this place built?” Cassie asked.
“Around 1890. The Moonstone Mocha people redid the kitchen, as you can see—it’s a shame the business didn’t last. The place is darling, don’t you think? You can put cafe tables with umbrellas in the front and back yards. It’ll be lovely in the summer.”
“What’s the rent?” Cassie braced herself—she was already in love with the place, and she didn’t want to find out the entire venture was impossible.
The agent told her.
The number was high, but not as high as Blue Iris had been. Earning enough to turn a profit might be hard, but it didn’t seem impossible.
“I need to take some pictures and measurements and talk to my investor,” Cassie said. She pulled a tape measure out of her purse. “Grab the other end of this, Lacy, would you?”
Cassie was buzzing with excitement when she got off work that evening. She’d told herself she would keep most of the bakery stuff away from Brian, since he was so hesitant about his mother’s involvement, but she couldn’t keep quiet about it. She wanted nothing mo
re than to tell him, and it couldn’t wait.
Instead of going home, she went straight to his place on Happy Hill. When he opened the door with Thor beside him, Cassie hurried inside, already talking.
“You won’t believe the place I found for the bakery. You remember Moonstone Mocha? Maybe not, since you live in SLO. They went out of business, and the place is still vacant. It’s a historic cottage on Main Street. God, it’s cute as hell. Do you think your mother will say yes? I hope she says yes. It’s the perfect size for what I need, and the kitchen’s been redone, and there’s an adorable outdoor area, and … I have pictures. Here. Let me show you.”
Thor, apparently bent out of shape at having been ignored, sat down at Cassie’s feet and whined. “Oh, hey, big guy. How are you?” She went down on one knee and rubbed his sides.
“Hi, Cassie. Come on in. How was your day?” Brian said wryly.
She laughed and stood up straight again, giving Thor one last pat. “My day was great. How did you guess?”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Mine’s starting to get better,” he said.
Yes, Brian was worried about this business arrangement between Cassie and his mother. Yes, he thought it portended doom, pain, and heartache. But Cassie was so happy, he didn’t want to do anything to ruin that. He loved seeing her happy.
He loved seeing her, period.
So when she showed up bubbling over with enthusiasm about the place she’d found, he smiled, hugged her, asked her questions about it, and agreed that it really did sound perfect.
He was uneasy as hell, but he tried not to show it, because he didn’t want to be that guy who pissed all over his girlfriend’s happiness.
Eventually, he had to ask the question.
“So, what did Lisa say about it?”
“I haven’t told her yet, but I’m sending her all of the information tonight. I took a ton of pictures, and I’ve got the rental agreement I can send her. And if she has any more questions, I can get her in touch with the leasing agent. It’s perfect, Brian. I love it so much. This is all like a dream that’s coming true. I just can’t believe it.”
