by L. D. Davis
She still looked shocked, but put a comforting hand on my leg and gave it a small squeeze.
“You always think you’re done, but then you’re not. What do you want? Do you want to be done?”
I hesitated before answering as honestly as I could. “I want to be done, but what I want isn’t always what I want. You know what I mean?”
Cherry nodded solemnly. “Si. It’s like wanting every donut in Federal’s, but also wanting to eat healthy. You want them both, but you can’t have them both. It’s either the joy of the donuts and a fat ass or a smaller ass and no joy. So the question is, do you want the fat ass or no?”
I gave her a skeptical look. “Umm…I’m not exactly sure how to respond to that.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head as if I were the problem. “Forget it. We’ll come back to that later. What about the guy you slept with? Tell me about him. Have I met him?”
Cherry had gone home with me a number of times over the years. People were much more accepting of the gorgeous Latina than they were of my tattooed and pierced boyfriend, even if a few of them spoke to her in loud voices as if she didn’t understand English and shouting at her was going to help.
“You have not met him, but he’s an old friend of my brother’s. They went to college together. Perry helped him get a job at the prison last summer.”
“Ohhh,” she grinned and bounced a little. “Is he a guard?”
“No. He maintains the computer systems at the facilities in and around Augusta County. I barely know how to update my own computer, so don’t ask me any specifics on what he does or how he does it.”
She gave me a demure smile, which immediately made me suspicious. “You mean I can’t ask about the specifics of what he did to you and how he did it?”
I threw my pillow at her. She caught it with a laugh and threw it back. I hugged it to me again, not feeling even half as amused as my roommate. Realizing my distress, Cherry lost her smile and gently patted my knee.
“Ok, chica. Start from the beginning, because you’re scary serious right now.”
I picked at an invisible thread on my jeans as I threw quick glances at her. “It’s top-secret-sweet-stash serious.”
Her eyes widened. “Top-secret-sweet-stash serious is really serious. Are you sure? You know we can’t just break into the top-secret-sweet-stash unless the situation is very dire.”
I leaned toward her and held her gaze. “The situation is dire. Go get the stash.”
“Dios Mio.”
She jumped up and hurried from the room. A minute later she returned with our top-secret-sweet-stash: a box of Teuscher’s dark chocolate champagne truffles. They are made by the Swiss. They are mad expensive, and they are the most delicious candy in the universe.
I bit into a truffle for fortification, moaned softly as the delicate flavors melted onto my tongue, and began my story. I started with my morning with Cade and ended it with my Dear Connor letter before I dashed out of his house.
Cher stared at me with an open mouth. “You left? After he told you that he’s drunk on you and that he’s never felt that way and asked you to stay? You left?”
I buried my face in my pillow. “Iwo Iaaabble ferrran.”
Cherry snatched the pillow away and tossed it aside. “In a language I can understand!”
Wiping at a sudden show of tears, I repeated myself. “I know I’m a horrible person.”
She nodded in agreement. “Yes! You are! Eres una puta maldita!”
I gawked at her. She called me an evil bitch.
“You’re supposed to be making me feel better, Maria,” I snapped.
“That’s what the top-secret-sweet stash is for,” she retorted. “I am here to tell you the truth about yourself, and the truth is that you are an evil puta. If you want someone to pat your back and tell you that you were justified in making a man fall in love with you practically overnight just so you could run out on him, you’ll have to go talk to someone else. Maybe one of your happy-go-idiot hillbilly friends.”
I let her words sink in. If you want someone to pat your back and tell you that you were justified in making a man fall in love with you…
“But it can’t be love,” I objected with a nervous laugh. “It was three days. Really, when you break it down, it was less than two. No one falls in love in two days. That’s ridiculous.”
“People do fall in love that quickly, but even if it’s not love, Darla, you did a number on him. Even if it isn’t love, he really likes you. He obviously has feelings for you.”
She didn’t have to tell me that. I already knew it, because honestly, I had some shockingly strong feelings about Connor, too, but it was still startling to hear her say it out loud.
“I’m an evil bitch,” I whispered as I tried to hold back more tears.
Cherry reached for a box of tissues on my dresser and handed it to me with a somber look on her face.
“I know,” she said. “Now what are you going to do about it?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nothing. I decided to do nothing about it. There was nothing to do about it. I had already told Connor why I left in the note, even if it was only a version of the truth. I really did have to be at work when the snow cleared. Was it work that I could have left in the hands of someone else? Probably, but Connor didn’t know that. Connor probably did know that I was an evil bitch, though.
Ending the note with, “Your Pal” was a bitch move on my part. I hadn’t meant it that way when I wrote it, but there must have been a part of me that had wanted to devalue the night and even the days we’d spent together. With those words, as well as, “Thank you for a great weekend,” cheapened what we had done.
I was sorry, for many reasons, but I wasn’t going to do anything about it unless he called me. If he called me, I would explain why I left. I would tell him the whole truth and not just a version of it. I would tell him that even if I were one-hundred percent, without a doubt sure that my relationship with Cade had been over, that I should have taken time for myself before getting involved with another man. If I had stayed, how would I have known for certain that any feelings I had for him were real so soon after a breakup from a man that had been my first love, my first sexual partner, and the first to both enrich and break my heart? Had I stayed, I wouldn’t have been fair to myself, and I wouldn’t have been fair to Connor.
He didn’t call, though. By Tuesday afternoon, I knew he wouldn’t. It hurt, but I deserved it. I’d hurt him first. I decided that I couldn’t just let it go, though, despite my earlier decision to do nothing. I had already taken the coward’s way out once. I couldn’t do it again.
The phone rang three times. I worried that it would go to voicemail, and then I wasn’t sure what I’d say in a message, but Connor answered before it went that far.
“Hi,” I murmured as I stared out at the snow-covered city streets. It was still snowing a little bit, but the blizzard was moving out.
“Hey. What’s up?” He sounded normal. He didn’t sound angry or sad or disappointed.
“Do you have a little bit of time to talk?”
I heard the hesitation. I heard his intake of breath as if he were going to speak, but a few seconds floated by before he finally did. Then I had the feeling he didn’t say what he was originally going to say.
“I can’t talk right now,” he said. “I have a lot of work to do today.”
“Oh.” It was my turn to hesitate. His tone hadn’t changed, but I could almost hear the lie in his words. “Well, can you give me a call back when you have some free time? I have a few things I want to say.”
“Sure. I’ll give you a call as soon as I can.”
“Great. Thank you. I’ll talk to you soon.”
We said our goodbyes and hung up. I stared at my phone for several minutes as I tried to figure out what had been wrong with our conversation. It hadn’t gone as I had expected, but all things considered, it had gone pretty well. So, why did I feel so uneasy about it?
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Then it hit me. Connor was always a nice guy, but he was also witty. There had been no humor in his words, no teasing, and no sarcasm. He had been polite, but as serious as a dead man. I knew deep down that he wouldn’t be calling me back. Whatever chances I’d had to be friends or anything more with Connor were blown.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“I missed you on Monday morning. How was your weekend home with your family?”
I forced myself to smile at Trey as I boxed up three dozen assorted mini Danish pastries. He got the same thing every other day to take back to the youth center. Usually, I wasn’t out on the floor with the customers, but whenever he came in, he always asked for me. With all of the other crap on my mind, I hadn’t thought to tell the girls up front to not come get me.
Trey was old enough to be my daddy. He didn’t have any gray hairs or wrinkles, or any other signs of aging. In fact, he was in great shape and looked ten years younger than his age of forty-three. He had smooth medium-brown skin, a head full of thick dark hair, and kind brown eyes. He worked out at the gym every morning before work, so he also always looked like he was about to pop out of his polo. Trey was sexy and nice, but I felt no real pull toward him. I didn’t feel any real chemistry with him.
“It was fine, thank you for asking,” I lied. Other than a few conversations about Cade, which weren’t as deep as the text messages made them seem, I didn’t really share my personal life with Trey, or anyone besides Cherry.
He handed me the money for the pastries and leaned on the counter. “What did you do on your snow day yesterday?”
Ignored Caden’s phone calls and waited for Connor’s.
“Oh, nothing much.” I waved a hand. “Caught up on some reading.”
We began the same song and dance we did every time he came into the shop. I offered him his change, and he insisted that I keep it. I dumped it into the gratuity jar and offered him a free cookie, which he almost always took. Usually, at this point, he’d ask me to brunch, lunch, dinner, or drinks, and I always gave him an apologetic look and said no, that I’d like to, but I couldn’t.
I was prepared for it. Knew my lines by heart. However, Trey didn’t ask me out. Instead, he said, “You didn’t ask me what I did on my snow day.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “What did you do on your snow day?”
He leaned toward me as if he were going to tell me a secret. “I spent it with Kim. You know Kim, my coworker?”
I nodded. Kim was a few years older than me. She was Japanese and ridiculously beautiful, but she didn’t know it. She was great with the kids, but shy and quiet around adults.
“We stayed later than we should have at the center on Monday,” Trey explained. “But neither of us wanted to leave until all of the kids were able to go home because some of them can’t until a certain time. It was easy for me to get home because I only live a few miles away, but Kim lives in Delco. The roads were getting bad, and we were both uncomfortable with her attempting the drive, so I invited her to stay at my place.”
He smiled, and though I couldn’t see a trace of a blush on his brown cheeks, I knew it was there.
“I worked with her for four years and never knew her the way I got to know her that night and the next day. We talked and laughed until our voices were hoarse and we couldn’t talk anymore.”
My smile was no longer forced. It came naturally as I raised an eyebrow and asked, “What did y’all do when you couldn’t talk anymore?”
He laughed and picked his box up off the counter. “Sorry, beautiful. You missed your chance to find out what happens when I’m out of words.”
He waved goodbye and left.
I was happy for Trey, I really was, but I was also bitter. I’d had the chance to be snowed in with someone.
I sighed heavily as I made my way back to the kitchen. At least I didn’t have to tell Trey to stop texting me. I was pretty sure those days were over as far as he was concerned. They were not over, however, as far as Caden was concerned. He had been texting and calling me since Monday night.
I had my reasons for not wanting to face Cade just yet. The fading bruises on my body were my biggest factors, but I also didn’t want to see him because I was afraid that he’d see the truth of what I’d done on my face, or hear it in my voice. I didn’t know if what I’d done could be considered cheating or not, but I did know that it would have hurt him to know about it. After all of the things we’d been through, and after the way he’d treated me, one would think that I would want to hurt him, or that I wouldn’t care if I hurt him, but I did care. Hurting him wasn’t something I aimed to do, but it didn’t make me too keen on answering his phone calls and messages just yet either, but that couldn’t and didn’t last.
My days at the bakery started at four in the morning. Quitting time came at twelve-thirty. My phone rang at twelve-thirty-two on Friday. I didn’t recognize the number but answered it anyway.
“Hello?”
The woman’s voice on the other end sounded reluctant and apologetic. “Hi, Darla, it’s Judy.”
I frowned. Judy was Cade’s manager at M.J.’s.
“Yes?” I said carefully.
“Cade wants to know if you can come in tonight. Armand and a few others—including a few of the wait staff—caught some ugly viral stomach bug. We’re going to be pretty shorthanded in the kitchen tonight.”
“No,” I said instantly. “I am not Cade’s call-in cook, and in case he’s forgotten, we’re not really together right now.”
There was a pause on the other end. “I’m sure he wouldn’t have asked you if he didn’t have to, but…”
“But what?” I prodded.
“There’s supposed to be a big food blogger coming in tonight. We need everything to be as close to perfect as possible.”
I felt my strong will slip a little. “Maybe the blogger won’t come. There are still a lot of people digging out from the storm.”
“Cade said we can’t take any chances, and I agree. Listen, if I could go back there and cook, I would, but I can barely fry an egg, let alone make a gourmet meal. Besides, I will be shorthanded at the front of the house, too, and that’s going to be enough of an adventure for me without having to worry about what’s going on in the back of the house.”
I thought about it for a moment. I knew how much service could change with just one missing person, let alone several. Cooking for your normal audience was stressful enough, but a blogger could make or break a place if they’re big enough. While Judy didn’t say specifically who the blogger was, I knew that it was important to be as close to perfect as possible regardless of who they were. It didn’t matter how I felt about Cade at that moment. I appreciated and respected his art as a chef and no matter what, I’d always want him to do well and receive the accolades he deserved.
“Fine,” I sighed. “I’ll be in at four, but I can’t stay all night. I have to be back at the bakery at four tomorrow morning.”
“We’re guessing that the weather will keep a lot of people at home so we’re closing at nine tonight. Cade wants you in at three, though.”
“Tell him not to push his luck.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
I strolled into M.J.’s kitchen at four. I could have arrived at three, but I wanted to be difficult. Childish, maybe so, but it made me feel better. It made me feel like I had some control.
I saw Cade before he saw me. My heart did a stupid little happy flip at the sight of him. It had only been about a week since we’d last seen each other, but it felt like more. It felt like enough time had passed for us to resume our lives together as if everything was okay, but everything wasn’t okay. We were still…us, and I still had sex with Connor.
Cade’s blue eyes lit up when he saw me, and he smiled with relief and warmth I could feel across the kitchen. I hated that I wanted to simultaneously curl up in his arms and kick him in the face.
I didn’t smile back as I pulled on my jacket and buttoned it as I walked over to him. I stopp
ed just out of his reach.
“Where do you want me?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Can I get a Hello-I-missed-you-Cade-kiss?”
I stared at him blankly for a moment, before responding in a detached tone, “I didn’t miss you, and I am not kissing you. Where do you want me?”
Cade had never been easy to brush off. He always took rejection in stride and barreled ahead despite opposition and barriers. It was that kind of attitude that made his restaurant a success. It was that kind of attitude that always got him whatever he wanted, including me.
He grinned at me. “Did you get the flowers?”
“I stuffed them down the garbage disposal,” I said with a sigh. “Did you bring me here to work or to chit chat?”
He laughed, but thankfully he didn’t try to touch me. I wasn’t sure how I would have reacted. If I would have done the curl thing or the kick thing.
“Garde manger, babe,” he said and nodded to the corner.
Garde manger was the station in the kitchen that required the least amount of experience in most cases. Not to say that it was any less important than other areas in the kitchen hierarchy, but in Caden’s kitchen and many other Americanized kitchens, the dishes and preparation are simpler. Some people hate the position and view it as a punishment, but I was okay with it.
The next few hours were hectic and exhilarating. I loved being in the kitchen, even if I wasn’t baking. I loved the rush to prepare the food, and the satisfaction when I sent out a beautiful and perfect dish. Caden had switched off boyfriend mode and turned into executive chef mode right after he assigned me to my station. He was a ball of energy in the kitchen. His presence commanded attention and respect, even from me.
“That looks like shit, Darla,” he said about the pork belly canapes I just finished. “Move your ass and fix it. It needs to be perfect.”
“Yes, Chef,” I’d said and immediately started again.
