Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology

by Anthony, Jane

  I glance over the notarized statement from the paparazzo involved. He swears that the woman in the picture was the person who gave the footage to him and that she identified herself as Gabriela Martinez at the time.

  “Holy fuck.”

  “We still have no motive, though. Your guess is as good as mine on that. For all we know, the whole thing was an inside job to drive publicity. That seems a bit far-fetched for a baking competition, but you never know. I’ve seen people in this industry do much worse for some really stupid reasons. The P.I. that I hired can dig deeper if you want. I told him to hold off until I spoke with you.”

  I wave the picture in the air. “Fuck, Avery. I slept with this woman. We were at a launch party a few years ago, and after a few too many drinks, had a meaningless hookup. I hadn’t seen her once between then and when Baking Masters began filming. She started hitting on me our first day on set but I told her I wasn’t interested in a repeat. She kept trying—pretty aggressively at that—until I finally told her I was seeing someone exclusively.”

  Avery raises a perfectly sculpted brow. “When was that?”

  I think about it for a moment. “About a week before the video came out.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Jesus, Ethan. Your dick got you into this whole mess?”

  I groan and scrub a hand over my face. “I don’t know for sure, but it certainly seems like it.”

  “Do you want the P.I. to keep digging?”

  “Let me talk to Gabbie and see what she wants to do. When I told her I was looking into it, she told me she didn’t want the media attention that would arise from bringing it up again.”

  Avery tilts her head to the side. “She doesn’t want to clear her name publicly?”

  I shake my head. “She said the important people in her life know the truth and that’s all that matters. Gabbie has no interest in ever being on TV again so she’d rather let the story stay buried.”

  Avery crosses her legs. “Huh. I can’t say I see that too often.”

  I smile. “One of the many reasons she’s such an extraordinary woman.”

  “You really like her, don’t you?”

  “She’s it for me, Ave. We both know I’ve dated more than enough women over the last two years, trying to find that spark again. I’ve never had this kind of connection with anyone else. I may not have all the answers but that’s one thing I’m sure of.”

  “Do you think she returns your feelings? Because whether or not she wants the media attention, it’s bound to happen once you two are seen together. You, my friend, are still very much in the public eye. She has to be prepared for the speculation, Ethan. We need to make a formal statement if the vultures attack.”

  I think about our most recent kiss. And that really hot night in her kitchen a couple months ago. Gabbie and I have always connected on more than a physical level but it’s even more pronounced when we’re intimate. I felt it the first time we were together, the last time, and every time in between. Whether she’s ready to admit it or not, that’s one thing that hasn’t changed between us.

  They say there’s a thin line between love and hate. I never understood that phrase more than I do now. Most of my anger with Gabbie was birthed from hurt, because my feelings for her ran so deep. I’m almost certain she’d say the same about me.

  “I think so.” I release a deep breath. “Only one way to find out.”

  “I feel like you’re brewing something big, and as your publicist, a heads up would be nice.”

  I laugh. “Oh, it’s big. But I’m not saying a word until I get everything together. I don’t want to jinx it.”

  Avery narrows her eyes. “Since when are you superstitious?”

  “I’m not,” I say with a shrug. “Not really, anyway. But I don’t want to risk doing anything that could ruin this for me. I can’t lose her again.”

  She sighs. “So, what happens now?”

  Gabbie refused to let me help at Sweet Temptations—I don’t think I’ve quite convinced her I wouldn’t sabotage the product—but that doesn’t mean I haven’t offered. After she rejected me for the third day in a row, I decided to give her the space she needed. She may have agreed to go out with me but she’s been finding excuses to brush me off in the week since. I’m not letting that deter me though. I have plenty of things to keep me occupied right now, most of which involve earning her forgiveness. This groveling stuff isn’t for pussies, that’s for damn sure. It’s hard work when you’re determined to do it right.

  “Now, I get my girl back.”

  22

  Then

  GABBIE

  “You’re really giving me the silent treatment?”

  Ethan’s jaw clenches as he sits stoically, waiting for our makeup artist to finish wielding her magic. Normally, he doesn’t need it, but our director took one look at him and commanded Ethan to head to makeup and not come back until he didn’t look like he’d been on a two-day bender. Poor Crystal has her work cut out for her today. She just spent an hour with me trying to hide the fact that I was up all night crying on my best friend’s shoulder. From the looks of it, Ethan’s dealing with the situation by drowning himself in whiskey.

  I sigh. “You don’t want to know the truth? After everything, you don’t want to hear what I have to say?”

  Our eyes meet in the mirror. He rolls his neck before speaking. “The truth is that you’re a traitorous whore. That’s all I need to know.”

  My jaw drops. “Excuse me?!”

  Crystal gasps and drops her makeup sponge. “Uh...I’m gonna give you guys a few minutes.” She scurries out of the room as fast as possible, slamming the door behind her.

  Ethan stands up and levels me with a glare. “You fucking heard me, Gabbie. I have no interest in hearing more of your lies. If you insist on opening those pretty red lips, I’d much rather have you on your knees, choking on my cock. I mean, Luke was obviously okay that you were fucking me while you were with him. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you blew me once more for old time’s sake.”

  My fists clench. “Fuck. You.”

  He scoffs. “Nah. Been there. Done that.”

  I can feel my face redden. “So, this is how it’s going to be?”

  He backs me against the wall and crouches down until we’re eye to eye. “This is how it fucking is. Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t even think about me. If we’re not filming, I don’t fucking exist to you. After we wrap this season, I never want to see your duplicitous face again.”

  With that, he storms out of the room. And out of my life.

  23

  Now

  GABBIE

  “So, let me get this straight.” Lila takes a sip of her wine. “You agreed to go on a date with him but then you changed your mind?”

  “I didn’t change my mind,” I shrug. “It’s more like I’m stalling.”

  Lila tilts her head to the side. “Why?”

  I take a huge bite off of a mozzarella stick and finish chewing before I reply. “I don’t know.”

  She gives me a look that says bullshit. “C’mon, Gabs, you do know. You’re just not willing to admit it.”

  I wave a piece of fried zucchini at her. What can I say; these situations call for copious amounts of carbohydrates. Might as well take advantage of happy hour pricing. “Why don’t you just tell me then, since you seem to be the all-knowing?”

  Lila rolls her eyes. “You’re scared.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I scoff.

  “No, it’s not. You don’t want to be hurt again, and you’re afraid that if you let him back into your life, there’s a strong possibility that will happen.”

  “Can you blame me?” I say through a mouthful of gooey cheese.

  Lila’s face softens. “No, honey, I can’t. But you said it yourself earlier—if you don’t try, you’re always going to be wondering what if. From what you’ve told me, he sounds genuinely repentant. Shutting down Baldwin’s is huge, Gabbie. God, think about the monetary loss alone
. He wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t determined to atone for his actions.”

  “I know,” I agree. “I just can’t stop thinking about how perfect things used to be and how quickly the rug was pulled out from under me. What guarantee do I have that it won’t happen again?”

  “There are no guarantees. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t be cautious. But if you don’t try...are you willing to live with that? Humans are flawed. They make mistakes. Ethan made a colossal one. Regardless, he’s the only man you’ve ever wanted a future with. He’s the only man you’ve ever had explosive chemistry with. When things were good between you two, they were great. Don’t you want to see if you can rekindle that?”

  “He was so cruel to me, Lila. That last month of filming was the most difficult time in my life. The public conjecture was bad enough. But sitting next to him all day, being treated as if I were invisible...it was so painful, I could hardly breathe. I can’t ever forget that feeling.”

  “You don’t have to forget,” she says and shrugs. “But you do need to ask yourself if you can forgive.”

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “But...as much as I hate admitting this...I’m pretty sure I won’t forgive myself if I don’t try.”

  24

  Now

  ETHAN

  After my publicist’s reminder that we have no chance of avoiding the media if Gabbie gives me another shot, I figured I’d test the waters a bit by using the public entrance. The line of people is at least forty deep, and as I had anticipated, my arrival has caused a stir, if the whispers are any indication.

  I wink at the blonde in the front of the line, who seems to be having trouble deciding what she’d like. “Get the triple chocolate cupcake. It’s my favorite.”

  “Uh...okay.” The woman turns to Gabbie, who is standing behind the counter, looking a little dumbfounded. “I’ll take two please.”

  “Sure,” Gabbie says, as she attempts to busy herself by ringing the lady up. She takes the bakery box from Caroline and passes it to the customer. “Enjoy. Have a great day.”

  The woman smiles. “Thanks. You too.”

  Caroline gives Gabbie a gentle shove and takes over the register. I follow as Gabbie walks the length of the counter until she gets to the end.

  “What are you doing here, Ethan?”

  I lean over and match her tone. “Why are we whispering, Gabbie?”

  She looks to the side, fidgeting with the ties on her apron as she sees at least a dozen people surreptitiously staring back at us. Gabbie straightens her spine and pastes on a fake smile. “What can I do for you, Mr. Baldwin?”

  I smirk. “Well, Gabbie...you owe me a date but you’ve been so swamped running this amazing bakery of yours, we haven’t been able to nail down any plans. I thought I’d come by so we can at least set a date and time.” I wink. “I’ll figure out the rest.”

  Her eyes widen. “Can we talk about this later?”

  “Nope.” I grin. “What’s the matter, Gabs? You’ve already said yes to the date. Why not tell me when you’re available to go on said date?” I turn to the audience we’ve gathered, who aren’t even trying to hide their fascination at this point. Some are even holding up their phones, undoubtedly recording this. “She’s hesitating because I’ve been a real asshole when she did absolutely nothing to deserve it. But don’t you think she should give me a chance to make it up to her? I’m really, really sorry and I give good grovel.”

  “What are you waiting for, honey?” a woman in line shouts. “Tell the man you’ll see him tonight.”

  Gabbie’s bronzed cheeks take on a pinkish hue. “Why are you doing this?” She’s whispering again. “You’re making a spectacle!”

  I shrug. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

  She narrows her eyes. “Fine. Tonight.”

  “Great! I’ll pick you up at six.” I dig my phone out of my pocket and place it on the counter in front of her. “I haven’t been to your new place yet, so I’ll need your address.”

  What she doesn’t know is that the P.I. I hired already got that information for me. If she tries giving me a fake, I’ll know it.

  She stabs the phone with her fingers a few times and passes it back to me. I quickly glance at the address she gave me before pocketing it again. I’ll take it as a good sign that she typed in the real one.

  “Fine. See you at six,” she grumbles.

  Gabbie stiffens when I lean over the glass case to place a chaste kiss on her cheek. I hover for just a moment before whispering in her ear so no one else can hear. “I look forward to it, Gabs. Wear something sexy. Underwear is optional.”

  I laugh as I pull back and see the sheer rage in her eyes. I have no doubt that if we didn’t have witnesses right now, she’d be jumping over this counter to strangle me. I have to consciously make an effort to fight an erection because angry Gabbie is fucking hot. She’s still shooting daggers at me when I give her a little wave before ducking out the door.

  Damn, tonight’s going to be fun.

  25

  Now

  GABBIE

  God, I hope I’m not making a mistake. It’s not like Ethan gave me much of a choice with that damn show he put on earlier. I have Google alerts set up, tracking any news regarding the bakery, and sure enough, shortly after Ethan left, footage of our encounter was streaming across the internet from various people’s cell phones.

  They’re postulating several different scenarios, all trying to decode Ethan’s remark about treating me poorly without merit. And of course, just what I didn’t want to happen, did, in fact, happen, when those gossip sites mentioned the incident from two years ago. Thankfully, they’re not vicious in nature yet; some are even suggesting the events were somehow misconstrued. Ha! You can say that again.

  It’s ten before six and I’m a nervous wreck. Ethan’s demand to dress sexy irked me so I decided to do just the opposite out of spite. It might not be the most mature approach, but you can’t say he didn’t ask for it. Besides, I don’t really own anything frumpy; I just made sure to cover as much skin as possible, weather permitting. I walk to the full-length mirror in my bedroom and take in my chosen outfit for the evening. I’m wearing a high-neck sleeveless green blouse, black capris, and my favorite strappy sandals. This should work whether we go somewhere casual or fancy and as a bonus, Ethan’s eyes won’t have any cleavage to feast on.

  I take a look around the open space, wondering how it would appear through Ethan’s eyes. My décor is shabby chic, which is fitting for a beach cottage, but I have accent pieces scattered about that reflect my heritage. My father wasn’t in the picture so my mother moved to California when she was six months pregnant, wanting a better life for me than she could provide in Mexico. She moved into a tiny apartment with my tía Rosa, which is where I spent the first eighteen years of my life. We didn’t have much, but we were happy.

  Growing up poor gave me an extra level of appreciation for everything that I’ve achieved as an adult. It made me work harder to get where I am today. I’ll never forget the look on their faces when I signed several endorsement deals and bought my aunt and mother a new house. I’m certainly not wealthy; in fact, most of the income from my brief stint at the Cooking Network was funneled into my bakery. But as long as business continues to do okay, I’m not struggling, and that’s all I really need.

  They say opposites attract but Ethan and I take that to the extreme, besides our mutual love for food. One thing I’ve learned about creative types though, is that people who are passionate about their craft are typically passionate in most areas of their lives. That rule certainly applies to us. Whether it’s our tempers, excitement about creating a new dessert, or yes, even sexually, we have passion in spades. Is that really enough though?

  Just as I’m freshening my poppy red lip stain, my doorbell rings. I live in a tiny Spanish bungalow so it only takes me a few seconds to reach the front door and check the peephole. Ethan is standing on my front stoop, looking direct
ly at me, as if he knows I’m watching him. I turn the locks and pull on the heavy wooden door.

  I purposely stand over the threshold, blocking his entry. “You’re early.”

  His arm comes from behind his back, producing a giant bouquet of Casablanca lilies. “I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.”

  I grab the flowers from him and inhale their unique fragrance. I don’t recall ever telling him these were my favorites so it was either a coincidence, or Ethan’s been doing some digging. I’d put my money on the latter.

  I’m not going to let perfectly good flowers wilt, so I begrudgingly step aside to let him in. “Thank you. Let me put these in water and we can go.”

  The door closes behind him as he follows me inside the house. I dig through a cabinet to find something big enough to hold the bouquet and glance over at Ethan through the corner of my eye. He’s a large man so his presence is a bit overwhelming in my nine hundred square foot cottage.

  “Nice place, Gabbie.”

  “Thanks. I bought it about a year ago. There’s just two bedrooms and one bath, but I’m only a mile from the beach so I can’t complain.” I place the lilies in a vase and set them on the small dining table. “Are you still at that place in Brentwood?”

  Ethan shakes his head. “Nah. It’s actually an investment property now. I bought a place in Malibu overlooking the ocean.”

  “Of course you did,” I mutter.

  See what I mean about our differences? Between that and our tumultuous past, I should just quit while I’m ahead.

  He narrows his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I blow out a breath. “Look, Ethan. I don’t think this is such a great idea. Maybe we should just—”