by L. A. Fiore
“I was hoping to have a few words with Lucien.”
She studied me, her blue eyes assessing. “I like Avery.”
“I like her too.”
“How often does she bake for you?”
I couldn’t help but grin; Darcy was practically drooling at the idea. “She isn’t baking for me, she’s practicing and I get to eat it. And she practices a lot.”
Darcy’s head cocked, but what she was thinking she kept to herself. Then she said, “I was surprised to see Melody joining us the other night.”
Here we go.
“Seems coincidental, Melody’s sudden interest in hanging with us and Avery’s arrival.”
“What’s on your mind, Darcy?”
“Me?”
Turning to her, I held her feigned bewildered stare. “Spill.”
“I’m going to be brutally honest.”
“When aren’t you?”
The woman had the nerve to smile. “You, Trace and Lucien are friends because you’re a lot alike. Lucien is private, but he has his circle of friends who mean something to him. As his wife, those friends mean something to me because they’re important to him. I know you’ve only been with Melody a short while, but she’s not made any attempt to get to know us. You’d think she’d show some interest in what’s important to you. Hell, I know more about Avery than I do Melody and I’ve seen Avery exactly twice.”
“Avery’s more outgoing.”
“It’s more than that and I know you’re smart enough to know that.”
“I’ll give you that, but I’m not looking to put a ring on Melody’s finger.”
“I get that, but even if all you ever want is someone on your arm and in your bed, when you really like the person you’re dating, it makes it all the more sweet.”
I knew she was right, suspected she was referring to Avery being that someone else every bit as much as me. “I appreciate your concern and because I do, I’m going to share something with you.”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve already been thinking about all of that.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but I need to talk with Melody. Do you get what I’m saying?”
“Oh, I get it.” And then she reached for my hand. “You deserve more.”
Women seriously needed to come with an instruction manual and a bottle of whiskey. Thank God Lucien walked down the bar, stopping in front of his wife. Without missing a beat, he wrapped his hand around her neck and pulled her to him. Looking down at my beer, I grinned. Sorry son of a bitch was completely besotted with his wife. Not that I could blame him. Darcy was great. And for whatever reason, she loved Lucien to distraction.
“Wife.”
“Husband.”
Sensing Lucien’s attention, I shifted mine to him. “What brings you here?”
“Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Yeah.” Turning back to Darcy, his voice changed, turned softer. Yep, totally whipped. “Wait for me. I won’t be long.”
The smile Darcy offered in reply even I felt the effect.
Lucien moved to the end of the bar, I stood to follow him, but said to Darcy, “You and Ember should visit Avery again. Outside of her sister, she doesn’t get visitors.”
“Taking an interest in your tenant?”
“Maybe.”
The look I got in response was priceless. Her chin practically touched the bar top. If she only knew how much of an interest I had in my tenant, she’d be plotting.
Following Lucien to his office, I settled in the chair across from him.
“You want to know what Josh learned.” He wasn’t asking.
“Yeah.”
“Lucas Steele, the mastermind behind the robbery, was no choir boy. He’d worked countless robberies in the area, usually selecting a person down on their luck to work with him, this person often was the one arrested.”
“So it’s likely had Dad not turned himself in, Lucas would have fingered him.”
“Probably.”
“What happened to Lucas and Jackson?”
“Don’t know. They never caught the killer. It’s a cold case, so there’s not much effort being made until new evidence comes to light. What Josh did learn, while retracing Lucas’s last steps, according to the testimony of the bank manager, Lucas demanded access to the vault. However, he didn’t go for the money he went to the security boxes. Even stranger he only wanted access to one of those boxes.”
“Dad mentioned the other day that he’d heard some rumblings that there may be people interested in talking to him about the job.”
“That’s interesting. Makes you wonder what was in the box.”
“So whose box did Lucas want access to?”
“Jeremy Paddington.”
“Who the fuck is Jeremy Paddington?”
“No clue. Josh is still working on it. Is your dad concerned?”
“No, but two people died, I don’t think he should dismiss the rumors completely.”
“True. How’s he doing, your dad?”
“Happy to be out. I took him to lunch, something we take for granted, but to him it was like tasting food for the first time. Anyway, Josh learns anything more, let me know.”
“You’ll be the first.”
Rising, I headed for the door. “How’s Avery feeling? She was definitely impaired at Allegro.”
“Little worse for the wear, but she’s good.”
“I like her.”
“Yeah, so does Darcy. I get the feeling you’re trying to tell me something too.”
“Only that sometimes we can’t see what’s staring us right in the face. Just making sure you’re looking. When I hear from Josh, I’ll call.”
I was looking; I was most definitely looking.
Returning from my chat with Lucien, I pulled into the drive and was greeted to the sight of Avery and Loki playing fetch. Well, it wasn’t really fetch since Loki didn’t bring the stick back to Avery. I saw the stockpile he horded near a tree. Turning over Darcy and Lucien’s sage advice, I tried to figure Avery out. She was sweet, kind, could bake desserts that made a man want to weep and she was a looker, so where were the men? Outside of her sister, no one had visited her. I understood wanting to keep your circle of friends small, but the men should be pounding down her door. The thought that she had a man had my hands fisting. Where the hell was he? Why hadn’t he helped her settle in? Why hadn’t he visited? Or branded her as his so everyone around knew it? I was inclined to think she didn’t have a man, but she had that god-awful car and someone didn’t keep a piece of shit like that unless it held meaning. Suddenly, I really wanted to know more about my tenant—personal things that I had no business asking and yet I planned to ask all the same. Climbing from my truck, I heard her instruction to Loki.
“You’re supposed to bring it back to me so I can throw it again.” Loki’s head tilted, studying her, but he still didn’t bring the stick back. I headed over to them.
“I see Loki is as cooperative with you when it comes to fetch as he is with me.”
“Yeah, he’s being very difficult.”
She sounded really put out, deceiving since she was barely able to contain the grin.
She searched around for more sticks and when I realized my gaze was fixed on her ass, I shifted it but not before my dick stirred. “How did you get into baking?”
Her head snapped up at that, surprised by the question and, if I wasn’t reading her wrong, touched that I asked. “I’ve always loved baking. I baked my first batch of cookies at six. The need to create, you must understand that, the feeling of visualizing something and creating it with your own hands. I just happen to also like eating what I make since I adore sweets.”
“From what I’ve tasted, I don’t blame you for wanting to eat what you bake.”
Pink tinged her cheeks, her hand unconsciously going to the rogue lock of hair that had slipped from the knot she had her hair twisted up in, tucking it behind her ear. She was lovely: sweet, refreshing w
ith a vein of innocence that was very appealing, so where the hell was her man?
I was about to demand an answer to that when she asked, “What about you? How did you get into woodworking?”
It was a reasonable question, even logical given my question to her and yet those words from this woman profoundly impacted me. Sometimes the greatest life lessons came in the most unusual ways. And I was having one now, standing in my yard, watching as Avery played catch with my uncooperative dog. She showed more thirst for life watching my dog horde his sticks, than I showed for the most meaningful moments in mine. Melody was the perfect example, my own girlfriend had never once asked me about my work and more fucked up, I had no interest in sharing that part of my life with her. I had been going through the motions of living, but I hadn’t actually been living. And I think if I were being honest, I’d been in that mode since I was a kid.
She studied me expectantly. I answered her honestly. “Wood shop class. Loved the smell of the wood when cut, the feel of the wood after a sanding. My first piece was a set of bookends, simple design that I stained a dark oak. I’ve had the bug ever since.”
“Your work is exquisite.”
Hearing that from her had my chest feeling a bit tight and coming as a one-two punch with my earlier observation, knocked me off-balance so I retreated. “I’ve got work.”
And yet I didn’t get anything done because my thoughts were still outside with Avery. I needed to stop dragging my feet and take a play from Avery’s book and the first step in doing that was to break it off with Melody.
Arriving at Melody’s condo, I stood at the call box; tension tightened my muscles and had the start of a headache threatening. I’d no idea how she was going to take me breaking it off with her, and by that how crazy she was going to get, but it was time.
She didn’t know I was coming otherwise she’d have worked up excuses and arguments, which would turn what was bound to be unpleasant, nasty. Ringing her apartment, I knew she was home; she was usually home. She didn’t work; her telling everyone she was interviewing was bullshit. She hadn’t been on an interview yet. I hadn’t called her on it, didn’t want her to lose face, but it was just another symptom of the problem.
It took surprisingly long for her to answer; she was probably still sleeping. “Hello?”
“It’s Rafe. Can I come up?”
“Rafe.” She had a tone, knew she intended to make me pay for the other night before she let it go. Too bad for her I didn’t give a shit if she did or didn’t. “Hold on.”
The door buzzed open.
When I reached her apartment, she stood in the threshold dressed in only a sexy little lace number. “Come in.”
Her ass swayed, the silk clinging in a very nice way as she moved deeper into her apartment. And yes I looked because I wasn’t dead.
She turned when she reached the kitchen, her hips cocking, a smile touching her lips. “What are you doing here? After the other night, I’m not sure I should have let you up.”
“What was that shit at Allegro?”
“Excuse me?”
“You never come out with my friends and when you do, you get drunk the first hour and demand we leave.”
Looking and really seeing her, I saw the feigned innocence and it grated that I hadn’t seen it before. “The drinks went to my head.”
“Bullshit.”
She switched tactics. “Okay, honesty. I don’t like that you have that woman living right outside your back door.”
Hearing her call Avery that woman stirred my temper. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious. You have a beautiful, young woman living on your property within walking distance of your bedroom. Any woman dating you would be pissed about that.”
“If I’m with someone, I don’t fuck around. If you knew me, you’d know that. We’ve been together long enough, Melody, you should fucking know me.”
“Don’t give me that. How would you feel if I had a hot man living with me?”
“She’s not living with me, she’s renting my carriage house.”
“Same difference.”
“No, it’s not the same.”
“I don’t like it, Rafe.”
“Why? You think the temptation is too great and I’m just some rutting dog?”
“Too great?”
Figured, she was accusing me of being a cheater, but she narrowed in on the fact that I called the temptation that Avery posed as great.
“You and I were fine until she showed up.”
That wasn’t true, but I hadn’t had the motivation to end things until Avery. “This isn’t about Avery.”
“I think it is.”
“It’s about your games, your lies and how I’m done.”
“What games?”
“Like the one you’re playing right now. You know damn well what I’m talking about. Your lies about interviewing, that shit with Avery, the constant dodging of my friends…do I need to go on?”
Her fingers turned white with how hard she held the edge of the counter. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“Yeah, I am.”
Again the tactic change, words weren’t working so she tried something else. She walked around the counter to stand just in front of me. Her fingers moved to my chest, a light stroke as she looked up at me through her lashes, “Let’s not let this little lacy number go unused, let me remind you of how good we are in the bedroom.”
She wasn’t wrong; the sex had been great. Like I’d said, killer blowjobs. Never knew a woman to like sucking dick like Melody. She got off on it, had on many occasions come from nothing more than having my cock in her mouth. But not even the sex was tempting enough to make me stay.
“It’s over, Melody. Take care of yourself.”
I had momentarily stunned her, since she made not one move to stop me when I walked to the door. She found her voice though, as the door was closing, by the string of curses she hurled at me.
Arriving an hour early for my first day of work, I felt like a little kid on Christmas morning. I had set my alarm for six, but I was up at four—excitement and nerves keeping me from sleep. I showered and dressed and still I had time to kill so I baked some cupcakes and left them for Rafe when I collected Loki for our walk. I balanced my checkbook and even re-arranged the furniture in the living room before I finally headed off to work. Setting up my tools, I reminded myself of an operating room nurse, organizing the instruments in the exact manner the doctor preferred. After my workstation was set up, I checked the refrigerator and pantry three times to ensure all the ingredients for the night’s offerings had been purchased. Chef arrived shortly after me, a knowing grin on his face when he stepped into the kitchen.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“No.”
“First days are both exciting and terrifying. You’ve got this, Avery. Tina and Lee are our new interns who I’ve assigned to you. Both have impressive resumes and strong recommendations. I’ll let them introduce themselves. The ovens run a little cool, which I believe you picked up on during your interview, so plan accordingly. Good luck. I look forward to tasting your creations.”
“Thank you.” But Francois had already started back to the other side of the kitchen. Tina and Lee arrived shortly after Chef, both looked to be fresh out of college, eager and ready. Tina had a shock of red hair, freckles and big hazel eyes. Lee had dark mocha skin but the palest blue eyes. I didn’t know what he had in his gene pool, but he had definitely gotten all the best ones.
“Why don’t we start off with you sharing a little about yourselves?”
Tina answered first, not surprising since she definitely was the hare to Lee’s tortoise. “I’m Tina. I just graduated from NYU with a degree in Culinary Arts, my focus pastries. I’m so excited to be working with you.”
Tina was practically bouncing off the walls; her enthusiasm was awesome if not a bit exhausting. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, smart, but with how her head bobbled on her neck, I was surprised it sta
yed in place. Her hands were in front of her, her fingers twisting around each other, an indication that her bubbly personality stemmed, in some part, from nerves.
“Have you ever worked in a professional kitchen, Tina?”
“No.”
“Me either.”
Her mouth opened to respond but nothing came out. It took her a minute before she said, “Really? This is your first time too?”
“Yep. We’ll learn together.”
“Cool.”
“In your studies is there anything in particular you really enjoyed, or would like to learn more about?”
“Tempering chocolate, I haven’t quite gotten the hang of it.”
“We can work on that. And you, Lee?”
“I studied at C.I.A., like you. I like bold flavors, the contrast of spicy and sweet. I haven’t gotten the handle on preparing phyllo dough.”
“That’s tricky, phyllo, most don’t bother with making it and have reliable vendors. Here we’ll be making it. I’ve a few tips. So for tonight, to complement Chef’s offerings, we’re making a pear/almond cheesecake, tart cherry torte with hazelnut brittle and a vanilla bean cake with a mango/kumquat filling and a whipped cream icing. I have the recipes here. Each of us will take one. I’m going to watch your technique to make sure we get the desired end product. Select the dessert you want, here’s the ingredients list for each. Once we’ve perfected the process, we’ll get started on producing them in bulk. Sound good?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s get started and guys, first day jitters aside, let’s have fun.”
“You got it.” Lee said, Tina agreed by bobbing her head and then they were gone, darting off to the pantry.
Unlike in a home kitchen, everything was on the large side, the mixer, the bags of flour and sugar. The butter came in sixty-eight-pound blocks. For baking, it was imperative to get the measurements correct. Tina, Lee and I measured and brought to room temperature our ingredients and then the fun part started. Both were very hard working, the ease in which they worked the recipes had most of my nervous energy fading. The test desserts turned out perfectly and that’s when the real work started. Instead of making one cake, we made trays of cakes that baked in the walk-in ovens, layered countless cakes with vats of mango/kumquat filling, baked up mounds of hazelnut brittle, and plated countless desserts being careful that regardless of who plated the dish, all looked uniform. What I found the hardest, something you aren’t prepared for until you’re in the middle of it, the turnaround, even for desserts, was like getting whiplash. And standing for nine hours was hard as hell on the back. And still I loved every second.
