Infamous (NeXt Book 2)

by K. M. Scott

  About what, I don’t know. Well, that’s not true. I think she might want to ask about what happened with Cade because I haven’t said a word about it since I walked in this morning.

  I grab the tray of tarts behind me and hand them to her. “All set and ready to go!”

  She doesn’t walk away, so after a few seconds, I can’t avoid glancing up at her. She’s giving me that look of anticipation, like she’s hoping this is the time when she’ll find her in and be able to ask me all about what happened yesterday.

  “You okay, Mom? Anything wrong with the tarts?” I ask, barely able to keep the smile from my face as she squirms trying to think of a way to ask me the question she’s been dying to for hours.

  Nodding, she gives me a smirk as her dark blond hair falls into her eyes. She looks around for somewhere to set the tray down so she can push it off her face, so I reach out to take it from her.

  “Here, I got that for you. You seem flustered today, Mom. Everything all right?”

  When she finishes fixing her hair, she reaches out for the tray again, still looking like she wants to talk but doesn’t know how to start the conversation. “I’m fine. How are you?”

  There’s her in.

  “I’m good. Really good. You sure you’re okay? Because it feels like you might want to talk about something, but you don’t seem to say much every time you come back to my area here.”

  Now I can’t stop myself from smiling. Teasing her is too much fun.

  “Stop playing with me, Hailey Marie Canton. You know what I want to talk about. You’ve known all day while you let me twist in the wind trying to find a way to ask,” she says, giving me her best angry Mom grimace complete with furious pursed lips and frustrated pulled in eyebrows that nearly meet in the center of her nose.

  “Why didn’t you just ask then?”

  Her frown deepens, if that’s possible. “Your father said I should let you bring it up. That’s what I get for listening to his suggestions. Do you know he wanted to make tuna fish and have it as a Tuesday special? ‘Tuna for Tuesday,’ he said. Just crazy.”

  I listen to her go off on my father for a little bit and finally she stops to take a breath. “Don’t the tarts need to go out to the case?” I ask.

  “No. Well, yes, but they can wait.”

  “Okay. So what did you want to ask me then?”

  Her frustration practically boils over, and she huffs, “Well, what happened with Cade, of course? You were upset yesterday and then you left with him and we didn’t see you until you showed up here for work this morning. Did you two make up?”

  Now my smile reflects my genuine happiness in being able to say we did. “Yes. He explained things, and I accepted his apology.”

  For the first time today, she smiles, and it seems like all the stress drains from her body right in front of me. “Oh, that’s good! I know you like spending time with him, honey. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. I think your father likes him too. He seemed genuinely pleased that Cade came over and you two were talking yesterday.”

  A laugh escapes from my throat after how he acted yesterday. “He gave him the angry dad face. I think he thought he was helping.”

  “Oh, that’s your father’s way of being a dad. He did that with your sisters too. Danielle used to tell him not to do it all the time. I swear every boyfriend she had got that look,” she says, waving away the concern she thinks I have about my father trying to act all tough for me.

  “He didn’t have to, Mom. Cade’s a good guy. It was just a misunderstanding. Everything’s fine now.”

  “Good. I’m glad. Well, I better get these tarts out front,” she says before hurrying off.

  Calling after her, I say, “Be sure to tell Dad what we talked about. I’m sure he’s dying to know.”

  From across the kitchen, Hector says, “That’s all he could talk about yesterday. We all were worried about you.”

  He gives me a wink like he does whenever he says something sweet, and I smile back. I’m not a fan of having my private life spread all over the restaurant, but I know my father meant no harm. I know Hector and the rest of the cooks are just curious. How could they not be when my father probably spent the entire night talking about how worried he was?

  They saw me at my worst when I first came back here to work a year ago. Then my parents watched over me like a baby bird, worried that at any minute I might give up on everything. To the people in the kitchen, I think I started out as some oddity and gradually became someone they cared about. It’s only natural that they’re interested in my life now that something’s actually happening in it.

  My mother rushes into the kitchen, her arms waving in front of her like something’s on fire. I jump up from my chair as she runs up to me, unsure what could be wrong.

  “Mom, what’s happened?”

  Her eyes wide and flashing with excitement, she says, “That food blogger who was on the morning show the other day is out talking to your father about your tarts! She’s raving about them, Hailey!”

  “Who? What morning show? The local one or the national one? What’s her name, Mom?” I ask as my heart races in anticipation of my hearing who this woman is who loves my apple tarts so much.

  “Brooke Dunning!” my mother answers, saying her name like I should know her.

  “I don’t know who that is, Mom.”

  “She’s huge! I saw her on the local morning show, but they said she’s a food blogger who’s known around the world. You should go out to talk to her. She’s just as nice as can be, and she’s got the cutest hair. Go out and see.”

  I hurry to pull my apron over my head and brush myself off since I’m covered in flour from making the tarts. Oh, God! Why did I have to make such a simple dessert today? Apple tarts are so basic. Any fool with some flour and apples can make them. Why didn’t I try the macarons I wanted to? They would have been so much better.

  My mother tugs my arm to get me to move. “What are you waiting for, Hailey? Get out there and talk to her. I promise you she’s very nice. Not conceited or pretentious at all like some of those foodies have been.”

  It suddenly dawns on me that Brooke Dunning, famous food blogger, is talking to my father, a man who sees no use for what she does and has nothing but disdain for people like her. At this very moment, he’s probably lecturing her on why food blogger posts shouldn’t include all that information about them and should focus on the restaurant, the chef, and the food, most of all. If I don’t get out there right now, he’ll likely chase her away with his bad attitude about what she’s chosen to do with her life.

  I rush toward the kitchen doors and suddenly stop to spin around to face my mother. “Do I look okay? Is there anything on my face that shouldn’t be there?”

  She gives me one of those wonderful smiles that have always made everything okay. “You look beautiful, honey. Now go out there and impress her.”

  One deep breath in and out and I walk through the doors to find my father giving his talk on how important the restaurant is compared to any story about the food. I cringe at how long it took me to get out here and hurry over, hoping to stop him before he says something really insulting.

  “Hi! Dad, I’m sure Brooke isn’t interested in all this talk about how you’d write about food.”

  My father takes the hint, thankfully, and excuses himself so Brooke and I are left alone. Beautiful, with short black hair and stunning green eyes that remind me of a cat’s, she’s tall and willowy like a model. I’m instantly impressed and intimidated, all at the same time.

  “Hailey, it’s so nice to meet you. You are all anyone can talk about in this town when it comes to food, so I knew I had to make my way down here to Comfort Food to meet you and try one of your delectable desserts. I am absolutely in love with this apple tart! I’ve never had anything so light and yet so sweet in my life.”

  As she talks, she touches my forearms and I notice she has very long nails and they’re painted in a French manicure. I can’t imagine
how she makes any dish with those things at the end of her fingers.

  “It’s so great to meet you too,” I say, not as gushing as her but still very polite. “And thank you for saying such kind things about the tarts. I wish I knew you were coming today. I would have made something far more elaborate and special.”

  She waves her right hand through the air between us, those long nails flying past my nose. “No need. The most special food in the world is the kind that makes people feel good. That’s what I always say. And those tarts of yours made me feel out of this world. I’ll have to do three extra spin classes just to work off all those calories, but it was so worth it.”

  My gaze instinctively drops for a moment at her mention of calories, and I glance down at her flat stomach and tiny waist highlighted by the black belt on her red dress. Three extra spin classes might make her so thin she’ll slip under the door.

  I quickly look up and smile. “I’m so happy you enjoyed them. They’re one of my favorite desserts to make.”

  For a second time, she waves her hand in the air in front of me, but this time the left hand joins in. I gently lean back just an inch or so and give her a bigger smile as I hope she doesn’t notice how uneasy those nails of hers make me.

  “So let me get to the point of my visit. I want you to join me on my podcast. You’re on the lips of every food blogger in this area, so while I’m here, I want to make sure I get you on with me. Now you should know I never take no for an answer—it’s the secret to my success—so don’t even think of saying anything but yes.”

  All I can think of at this moment is that single word she insists I say. Of course, I’d agree to do her podcast. I’d be crazy not to jump at this chance.

  “I’d love to,” I say as calmly as I can, struggling to keep my voice from quivering.

  Brooke’s eyes get wide, and she waves her hands yet again in between us. “Oh, that’s fantastic! Now usually you can do a podcast from your house or anywhere for that matter, but since I’m in town and we can be together, I’d love for you to come to my hotel next Friday. We’ll talk food, you can tell my listeners all about your favorites, and everyone will love it. Feel free to bring whatever desserts you want. I’ll block off time for those extra spin classes on my calendar today because I’m going to try every one of the delectable treats you bring.”

  “Next Friday it is, then,” I say as my mind races to figure out what I can find to make in the next eight days that will bowl her over and impress whoever might be listening to her podcast.

  She hands me her business card and flips it over in my hand. “My number is on there, so call me the day before and I’ll tell you my hotel and room number. My publicist has me in one I’m not crazy about at the moment, so I’m thinking that’s got to change. It doesn’t even have a restaurant inside! Can you believe that? Who would ever think to put me in a hotel without a restaurant?”

  I don’t get the chance to say a word in response before she wraps her arms around my shoulders and brings me in for a big, unexpected hug. “Next Friday. I can’t wait. See you then!”

  “See you then.”

  Rushing away toward the door, she stops right before she reaches it and turns around looking almost guilty. “Any chance I can get another one of those apple tarts? I simply love them!”

  “Of course! Let me grab you one,” I say before hurrying over to the case and picking out two of the best looking tarts.

  When I hand her the bag, she beams a smile and leans in to whisper in my ear, “This is going to mean four more spin classes, but it will be so worth it.”

  And then she walks away out the door, my apple tarts with her, and jumps into a black car before leaving as I stand there in the middle of my parents’ little restaurant in shock at what’s just happened. I don’t get long to let it sink in before my mother and father rush out from the kitchen to ask me a million questions.

  “We were watching through the window. She seemed so nice, Hailey. Did she take more tarts with her when she left?” my mother asks, practically breathless with excitement.

  “She did. I gave her two more, and she had already had one with Daddy before I came out.”

  My father nods like he approves of all he’s seen today. “She seemed very interested in your desserts. I think she must eat a lot of sugar to be that enthusiastic.”

  That gets my father a disapproving slap on the arm from my mother. “Robert! She was enthusiastic because of our daughter’s fantastic apple tarts.”

  I don’t bother adding that I think Brooke Dunning might be naturally hyper with a healthy dose of caffeine and sugar mixed in. Four spin classes to work off two apple tarts does seem like a bit much.

  “She wants me to appear on her podcast next Friday. We’re going to do it in her hotel. She said I should bring some of my desserts. What should I make? Maybe I could perfect the macarons before then, but they aren’t elaborate or anything. Then again, she did say that food doesn’t have to be elaborate. It just has to make someone feel good, and they would do the trick there. No, she said that about special food. Maybe. I don’t know. It all happened so fast.”

  I don’t know why, but now I feel like waving my hands around like Brooke did. I don’t have beautiful nails like hers, so I wouldn’t be putting anyone in danger of losing an eye either.

  My mother wraps her arms around me in a hug I sense is probably her way of trying to calm me down. Ever since I fell apart last year, if she thinks I’m unraveling even the slightest bit, she likes to hold me. It does help, but I’m not freaking out right now.

  I’m just happy.

  “It’s okay, Mom. I’m good. Just excited. So many good things are happening right now.”

  Leaning back, she smiles at me before kissing my cheek. “All things you absolutely deserve.”

  “So what are you going to do now? You can’t sit in that kitchen all day after having that kind of thing happen,” my father says with a chuckle. “Seems like the kind of thing a young woman would want to tell a certain guy.”

  I feel my cheeks heat up at his thinly veiled mention of Cade. “I will. First, though, I have to tell Meadow. She’s been predicting something big would happen ever since that first food blogger came in here and wrote about my desserts.”

  “Okay, honey. It’s only right you remember the people who were there with you when you were nobody just starting out,” he says, teasing me. “You will remember us little people when you hit the big time, won’t you?”

  Rolling my eyes, I give his arm a gentle nudge with my elbow. “Funny, Dad.”

  “Congratulations, honey. I’m so proud of you.”

  I give him a kiss on the cheek and head back to the kitchen to call Meadow. Ten minutes and nearly a dozen shrieks of excitement later, she makes me promise to tell her everything that happens with Brooke Dunning.

  “It won’t be as exciting as what you told me about Cade, but I’m here for any and all good news with you, Hailey. Promise me we’ll go out to celebrate after you do her podcast. We have a lot to celebrate lately.”

  “I promise. I just hope I don’t mess it all up. I’ve never done a podcast. What if I freeze and can’t remember what to talk about?”

  With a laugh, she says, “From what you told me about that Brooke woman, you will have to fight to get a word in edgewise. Don’t worry. You’re going to be great.”

  “Thanks, Meadow. I’ll let you know how it goes as soon as I get done at her hotel room.” I start to say goodbye, but then I remember she hasn’t said anything about Alex yet.

  “Hey, did you ever get to meet up with Alex that night we went to Club X? I feel bad about the fact that you had to rush me out of there and didn’t get to even see him.”

  She lets out a sigh of frustration. “We’ve tried a few times, but our schedules aren’t helping any. I’m not giving up on getting together with him yet, though,” she says with her usual determination. “That man is way too hot to let work get in the way. But I have to go now. I want all the deta
ils on the food lady’s podcast and your adventures with her as soon as it happens, so don’t forget.”

  “I won’t. Thanks, Meadow.”

  “You deserve it, Hailey. The podcast and how much fun you’re having with Cade. Remember that.”

  As I call the man himself, I think about how hard it would have been to imagine so much good coming to me just six months ago. I don’t know if I deserve it, like Meadow says, but I like it.

  Actually, I love it.

  Chapter Seven

  Hailey

  After nearly an hour sitting in the passenger seat of Cade’s car wearing a blindfold, I think I might be getting carsick. Between all the starts and stops and his tendency to drive fast, my body doesn’t know what to do from one second to the next.

  “Not to ruin whatever you’re doing with this surprise, but if I don’t look out the window and get my bearings, I think I might get sick.”

  Cade touches my hand resting on my leg and gives my fingers a gentle squeeze. “I promise. Only a little while more. I want you to be surprised. You asked me to help you get away for a few days before your big meeting, and that’s exactly what we’re doing.”

  I turn to face where I think he is and smile. “If I could just lift this blindfold for a second, I think I might be okay. I had no idea not being able to see where I’m going would do this to me.”

  “Just a couple minutes more. I promise.”

  The feel of his touch on my hand helps, but something about this blindfold and moving makes my stomach turn. Not exactly the way I wanted to start out this three-day vacation we’re taking.

  When I called Cade and told him about Brooke Dunning and her podcast, I began to unravel, just as my mother worried I would. Nothing too bad. Certainly nothing like what happened last year. But enough that I asked Cade if we could do something to take my mind off things for a couple days. I thought he’d suggest we hang out at his place, but he came up with the idea of going to a hotel and relaxing like a little mini-vacation.