by Susan Hatler
Not that I didn’t love my job with all of my heart, because I did.
The point was that two people couldn’t be more different than Jason and me.
I suddenly lost my desire to draw happy faces. And to think, I had only just been reminiscing about our moonlight stroll and then that crazy wedding scenario had blipped through my brain. No, it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to talk to Melinda about this mess I was in with Jason. But I did need to confess something to her that was long overdue.
“Actually, there is something on my mind.” My stomach tightened, but I knew that it was time. “Something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I hope you won’t get upset with me.”
Melinda put a hand on my arm. “You can tell me anything, Avery. You know that.”
I let out a long breath. “Do you remember how I was worried that my apartment was going condo? Well, it did.”
“Oh, no.” She squeezed my arm. “When do you have to be out by?”
“Three weeks ago,” I said.
“You moved out three weeks ago and didn’t tell me?” She squinted, looking thoroughly confused. “Where are you staying?”
I grimaced. “This is the thing I should’ve mentioned sooner,” I said, sucking in a deep breath for courage. “I’ve been staying here. On the couch in the office, actually.”
Her brows rose and her eyes widened. I couldn’t help wondering if that shocked expression was that of someone who was about to give her bridesmaid the boot out of her wedding. She continued to stare at me. The tension inside me grew as I waited for her to say something, anything.
“Where do you shower?” she asked, looking me up and down.
“I shower at the gym,” I said, thinking that was not at all the reaction I’d expected. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you I was staying here. I mean, this is your place of business and I should’ve asked you for permission—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You know that you’re more than welcome to stay here and, um, shower at the gym if that’s what you want to do.” Her mouth puckered as if she found the showering aspect the strange part in all of this. “I just don’t get why you didn’t tell me.”
My eyes watered suddenly. “I-I have a fear of being homeless.”
“Why would you be afraid of that?”
“When I was a kid, we were homeless for awhile,” I blurted, unable to believe I was confessing this deep, dark secret. After all of these years keeping my past to myself, I’d told Jason what had happened to me, and now Melinda. “It was awful . . .”
“Oh, sweetie.” She pulled me into a hug, squeezing me tight, and then pulled back to look at me. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, but it will never happen to you again. You can always stay with me, or here at the bakery, or at my mom and Bernie’s house. You have a lot of support. We’ll always be here for you.”
“Thanks, Melinda,” I said, a feeling of comfort washing over me. “I did know that you’d be here for me. It’s just that a very small part of me was scared. If only my mom had a friend like you when I was young.”
“I’m glad you told me,” she said, with a small smile. “Would you like to stay at the condo with me until you find a new place? I’m sure Ginger would love the extra company since I’ll be moving out of her extra bedroom soon.”
“So sweet of you to offer. Actually, I found an apartment and am moving in tonight.”
“Oh, good,” she said, as a rap sounded at the front door.
“I’ll get that,” I said, giving Melinda one last hug, before I hurried out to the storefront to see who was here at this early hour. Outside the bakery window, underneath the swirly lettering of “Bernie’s Bakery,” stood Erica, catching my eye and then smiling widely. She must be here to get the cake I’d made for her grandma late last night before going to sleep.
“Sorry to bother you so early in the morning,” she gushed, as I opened the door. “But you know how it is with my yoga schedule. I’ve got the first class again and it’s go-go-go all day today for me. This was my one chance to pick up the cake.”
“No problem.” I pulled the door open, noting she seemed to be in a much better state than when we last saw each other. I waved her in and locked the door behind her, the street still empty and dark. “Come on in. Coffee?”
“Oh, no, thanks. I’ve already had a cup and it’s not a great idea for the instructor to be too hopped up on caffeine.” She giggled as she followed me to the kitchen.
“Yeah, I can see how that could break the whole peaceful, meditative vibe of a yoga class and all.” We stepped into the kitchen, where Melinda’s eyebrows jumped to find a visitor so early in the morning. “Erica’s here to pick up the cake I made for her grandma. No worries, I made it on my own time and bought the supplies myself.”
“Oh, as if I would hold you to something like that,” Melinda scoffed as she came over to the worktable, where I’d just placed the cake. When I lifted the lid of the box, they both gasped.
Just the reaction I was looking for. Who wouldn’t be gratified?
Before us was an eight-inch square cake, which I’d decorated to look like a bingo card, using piped buttercream to make the grid and numbers. “Like I promised, I only used sweetener your grandma can enjoy safely—fruit puree and agave. I swapped out half of the white flour, too, and used almond flour instead. I know the white flour is harder on blood sugar.”
Erica’s eyes welled up with tears. “Even if she never eats a piece, just getting something so special will brighten her day. It’s certainly brightened mine.”
“I hope she eats the whole thing.” I laughed as she threw her arms around me. “A cake is only as good as it tastes.”
“This could be just what she needs to pick her spirits up and remember that people care about her, you know?” Erica stared down at the cake again, making me feel a little embarrassed at how bowled-over she seemed to be. I loved helping her and certainly didn’t need any praise. Erica picked up the box and held it against her front for balance. “Thank you again, Avery.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, walking her out and then locking up again. Still dark outside and way too early to fling the doors open.
When I re-entered the kitchen, Melinda was shaking her head. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?” I asked.
“You’re always giving to somebody, in some way. You’re listening to me prattle on about my wedding, you’re devoting time to Founding Friendships, and now you’re making cakes to cheer up old ladies. When do you do anything for yourself?”
It was a funny question, and not “funny, ha-ha,” as I used to say as a kid. More like “strange funny.” Funny that made me stop and think.
“I don’t know,” I admitted with a shrug. The timer went off, signaling the need to take a batch of muffins from the oven, and it couldn’t have come at a better time.
What did I do for myself? Was that supposed to be something I cared about or spent any time wondering about? Was I missing some big, huge chunk of my life because I never gave much thought to what I ought to do for me?
When you’re poor and homeless, all you can do for yourself is try to survive. Anything beyond that would be frivolous. I’d been daydreaming earlier about how I wanted to decorate my new apartment, which felt like something for me. But, outside of that? Not a clue what Melinda was talking about.
“It means a lot to me to help other people,” I murmured, pulling muffins from the oven. “I like knowing they’re, I don’t know. Happier. That makes me happy. Do I sound like a hopeless Pollyanna right now? You can totally tell me if I do.”
She laughed. “Not completely hopeless, no.”
I raised my eyebrows. “A little hopeless?”
“All I’m saying is, there’s nothing selfish about doing things for you. Just for you, just to make yourself smile. You can’t burn a candle at both ends forever. You know?”
“That’s true . . .” I admitted, thinking of how little sleep I’d gotten the nigh
t before after decorating the cake for Erica’s grandma. I was already on my third cup of coffee this morning and we hadn’t even opened yet.
It was going to be an interesting day.
* * *
By mid-morning, my brain fog grew so thick that I barely noticed the ringing of the bell over the door as a new customer entered the bakery. I was leaning against the display case with my chin on my fist, thinking back to Melinda’s comment about how I might be burning the candle at both ends, which was beginning to make more sense to me.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about something,” a male voice said.
My head snapped up—which was unfortunate, since the top of my head banged against the glass. I cringed, forcing myself to look up.
“You okay?” Jason asked as I straightened, rubbing the top of my head.
“If you don’t count dying of embarrassment,” I said, ignoring my throbbing head and taking in his windblown hair, his dazzling smile, and the way the blue of his polo shirt matched his eyes. Swoon. He would look good doing just about anything, though. While I, on the other hand, wore an apron I’d smeared chocolate across earlier this morning and had a growing bump on my head. Lovely.
“What brings you in?” I asked as Marcus came out from the back and took care of the woman who had come in behind Jason. “Are you here to see Melinda? I have to warn you that she’s in full-blown wedding mode.”
He grinned. “That’s what she gets for setting a two-week deadline after getting engaged.”
“Deadline?” I couldn’t help but giggle at his use of the term. “I don’t think they call it a deadline when they’re talking about a wedding.”
“Sorry.” He waved a hand. “I’m in business mode right now, which is why I didn’t come by earlier this morning.”
“Oh? I didn’t notice you weren’t around.” I managed to wait until I was bent over the back of the display case, rearranging what was left from that morning’s baking, before I smiled.
He bent over on the other side, the glass between us revealing his playful scowl. “Oh, you didn’t notice? Well, I guess I shouldn’t have busted tail to drive back here after my breakfast meeting then.”
I couldn’t play coy anymore. Just the sight of him made my heart swell, my pulse race, and my knees feel all shaky and wobbly and wonderful. What was he turning me into? The next thing I knew, I’d be twirling around in circles in the middle of a forest singing songs about the magical powers of love.
Not that whatever was between us was love. Nothing close. Nope. Not at all.
Just a serious, major crush.
I stood and then he stood, my gaze locking on his blue eyes. We stayed that way for what felt like forever, just gazing at each other. An electric current simmered between us, so strong that it felt like I could touch it. Part of me wondered if he could feel it, too. I opened my mouth, but couldn’t think of anything to say. To be honest, it didn’t feel like much needed to be said right now. Words would’ve just spoiled the moment.
“Um, hello?” Melinda came up next to me, waving a hand in front of my face, laughing. “Earth to Avery. Come in, Avery.”
“What?” I turned away from Jason, feeling my cheeks go up in flames that she’d caught us in what felt like an intimate moment. How was that kind of connection possible? Especially mid-morning at the bakery? Wowzers.
She turned to Jason. “My favorite cousin. Guess what you’re just in time for?”
The corner of his mouth tipped up and he turned to her. “What’s that?”
“I’m asking if you’ll accompany me to my dress fitting, which I was just coming out to tell Avery I have to leave for. I mean, since your car’s parked out front and all.”
He nodded. “Sure.”
“Just promise not to tell Nate what my dress looks like.”
He snapped his fingers, his handsome face twisting in mock sadness. “But I was hoping to make a little money selling secrets behind your back. You figured me out.”
I couldn’t help but watch longingly as the two of them started to leave, with Jason casting a few apologetic looks my way. I shrugged, knowing that I had to work anyway. It wasn’t like I could walk out in the middle of a shift, no matter how much I wanted to when I considered the prospect of spending time with him.
Sigh. I was hopeless, and I knew it.
I wasn’t the only one who knew it, either. Just before she stepped out, Melinda grinned at me over her shoulder. “Smiley faces on the cinnamon rolls. I get it now.”
“Huh?” Jason looked from her to me, confused.
“Nothing,” I replied with a shrug, careful to wait until he looked away before flaring my eyes at my boss. Her laughter rang out, carrying through the closed door once they were on the sidewalk.
So much for keeping my feelings to myself.
Chapter Twelve
I was getting used to Jason waiting for me outside the bakery at closing, and I found myself liking it way too much. I’d even come to depend a little on seeing him. The thought of running into him after work gave me a little thrill, something to look forward to, and it was for this very reason my heart sank when he wasn’t outside later that evening when I left work.
As I turned the key to lock the bakery’s front door, the corners of my mouth turned downward. How dare he make me count on his delighting and surprising me? But, it was okay. Or, so I tried to convince myself.
Jason had mentioned a breakfast meeting this morning, so maybe he’d had another meeting this afternoon after he’d taken Melinda to her dress appointment. For all I knew, the meeting could have taken place in San Francisco and he didn’t have time to drive back. He was a busy man and I couldn’t just expect him to drop everything and meet with me all of the time.
Although that would’ve been nice.
With a sigh, I walked to my car and opened the driver’s side door. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a piece of paper under my windshield wipers. What the . . .? I unfolded the cream-colored paper and read the handwritten words: You still owe me a date.
My head swiveled as I gazed up and down the street, my pulse taking off. Jason was here! Wasn’t he? Wait, I didn’t see him anywhere. Was this a joke? Was I nutty to immediately assume Jason had left the note? It wasn’t like I knew his handwriting. Then again, I didn’t owe anybody else a date. My little black book was nonexistent, actually. I scratched my head. Did people use little black books anymore?
No matter. I had a note in my hand and wanted to see Jason. My cell phone rang, as if on cue. I dug around in my purse and pulled it out as fast as I could.
“H—hello?” I croaked. Ugh. Way to woo him with my sexy voice.
“Hi, Avery,” Jason said, his smooth voice coming across the line. “I’m checking to see if you received my note?”
“Yes.” I leaned against the car, wearing a silly grin like a love-struck school girl. My cheeks burned with a wicked blush. “You want to collect on something, huh?”
“Very much so.” His low tone sent ripples of excitement down my spine. “I intend to hold you to this promised date.”
“I know you think you will,” I teased, twirling my keys in my hand. “But since you’re not here, I don’t see how that will happen.”
“What if I told you I’m waiting for you?”
“Waiting? Where?” I asked, my gaze darting around.
“Your new home, of course.” He chuckled. “Melinda told me you were planning to head over tonight to do a little work, and I figured you might need some help. I’m pretty good with a paint brush, or so I’ve been told. And I’m practically a plumber, so long as the problem’s extremely limited.”
I glanced at my back seat, where several gallons of paint, rollers, tarps and other tools waited to be used. “You were talking about me with Melinda?”
“More the other way around. She couldn’t stop telling me wonderful things about you. But we can talk about that when you get here, unless you’ve changed your mind.”
Even if I had, whic
h I hadn’t, I’d so be going now. In fact, I couldn’t move soon enough as far as I was concerned. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
I slid behind the steering wheel, closing the door behind me. “Are you always this helpful and heroic? Or are you keeping tabs on all the fantastic things you do for me, waiting for the day it’s time for me to pay you back?”
He laughed, and I could imagine his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I didn’t know paybacks were on the table. This changes everything.”
“No, no, if they weren’t already on the table, then it’s too late to start keeping tabs now. I’ll see you soon.” I hung up the phone and then zoomed down the street, heading to my new apartment—and to Jason.
* * *
Minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot of the apartment building, which was to become my home. Funny how I’d looked at it as rather, well, embarrassing and decrepit when we first arrived. Now I felt like it looked downright charming. Sure, updates would have been nice, but the building had history. Character. People had lived there, loved there.
And I was about to be part of that story. When I looked at it that way, my heart swelled, and I wondered how I could ever have seen this place as anything but a treasure.
Another treasure waited in the parking lot for me, leaning against his Ferrari with his hands in his pockets and his legs crossed at the ankle. His smile was a welcome sight after a long day—and here, for a moment, I thought he’d forgotten about me.
“Took you long enough.” He winked at me as I stepped out of the car.
“Not every car drives as fast as a Ferrari,” I retorted, my belly doing a little flip from the way he was looking at me. I needed to calm down before I hauled booty over there and jumped into his arms. I restrained myself by opening the back door to unload the paint. “Besides, good things come to those who wait,” I said, to him and to myself, as well.
