by Aurora Rey
“Until you have to deal with the consequences.”
“What consequences? We are two consenting adults with a long history and a deep fondness for one another. We’re enjoying each other’s company and having sex, which at our age, is good for both our mental and physical health.”
Amanda rolled her eyes. “You sound like such a professor right now.”
Mel kissed her shoulder. “Be honest. You like it.”
God help her, she did. “Maybe.”
“Aside from last week, how long has it been?”
She so didn’t want to answer. “Not the point.”
“Amanda.” Mel’s tone was stern.
Rather than making her bristle, it reminded her of the playful push and pull of the early years of their marriage. Like when she lusted after exorbitantly expensive equipment for the bakery or when Mel wanted to buy a lake house before getting tenure. Before the kids and before their arguments took on an edge. Before they—okay, mostly Mel—started doing whatever they wanted without consulting the other at all. She gave Mel a poke. “It’s none of your business.”
“No?” Mel rolled until she was half on top of Amanda and started tickling her.
Amanda squealed and squirmed. “Stop, stop, stop.”
Mel obliged but didn’t roll away. “How long?”
Amanda lifted a shoulder and looked away. “Three years.”
Mel shook her head. “Too long.”
“It’s not a priority.” It wasn’t, and she was okay with that.
“You are a beautiful woman still in her sexual prime. There is no reason on earth you shouldn’t be having amazing sex all the time.”
“I’ve spent the last decade raising two teenagers and running a business. I’ve had a lot on my plate.” Even as she defended her choices, she cringed. If one of her friends tried that line, she’d give them a lecture on all the reasons being a martyr was unhealthy, unfeminist, and unhelpful in raising self-sufficient children.
She expected Mel to argue or perhaps dismiss her assertion altogether. Instead, she cupped Amanda’s cheek in her palm. The tenderness of the gesture caught her off guard. “You’ve done an incredible job. So incredible, it was easy to let you take on the lion’s share of the work. I’m sorry for that.”
Before she could stop them, tears pricked her eyes. How many times had she longed to hear those words? Not so much recently, but in the beginning, when lacrosse and piano lessons and karate and Girl Scouts had sucked up every spare moment. Amanda shook her head, unsure whether the emotions swirling in her were vindication or regret.
“Shh.” Mel kissed one cheek, then the other.
She was long past the point of needing tenderness from Mel. Perhaps not needing it made it all the sweeter. Whether it was that or something else, Amanda didn’t know. But she let herself sink into it. She let Mel kiss her way down her body and slip into her with something that felt a lot like reverence.
By the time they came up for air, Amanda was almost an hour late for work. “I really have to go.”
Mel agreed but managed to talk her into having dinner together the next night. And showering with her. Which led to shower sex. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had shower sex. When she pulled into work a full two hours after her usual arrival time, her limbs felt loose and her body hummed with the afterglow of multiple orgasms.
Since the bakery was already open, she went in the front door, letting herself imagine the new entry she’d have in a few months’ time. Mei stood behind the counter arranging muffins on a cake stand. Amanda offered a wave. “Good morning.”
Mei looked at her with concern. “Are you okay? We were expecting you hours ago.”
“I let myself get distracted by a few things at home. Is something wrong?”
Before Mei could answer, Tanya pushed through the kitchen door. “Oh, thank God. We were about to call the cops.”
“I know I’m rarely late, but that’s a bit over-the-top, don’t you think? All I have is the Chen anniversary cake.”
Tanya’s eyes got big. “And the Humane Society fundraiser.”
Amanda’s pulse tripped. “That’s next week.”
“It’s tonight and you promised twelve cakes to be used as centerpieces.”
She had. Twelve unique but complementary designs. Eight-inch cakes she could practically decorate in her sleep but wouldn’t decorate themselves. “Are you sure?”
Tanya pointed to the poster she’d hung on the community bulletin board advertising the event.
“Oh, no.”
“They’re baked, but not filled. I can get started on that as soon as I finish the cookie order for this afternoon.”
Amanda’s mind raced. “I can’t believe I mixed up the dates.”
Tanya raised a brow. “It’s so unlike you.”
It was. “I guess I’ve been a little distracted.”
This time Tanya folded her arms. “I’ll ask again. Are you okay?”
Amanda nodded. “I am, I promise. Good distraction, if anything. You know, thinking about the expansion.”
If her staff didn’t believe her, they opted not to say so. She was usually pretty transparent with them, but things with Mel weren’t usual by any stretch of the imagination. And since she still had no idea what any of it meant, the fewer people who knew the better.
She headed into the kitchen and donned her apron and cap. It was fine. It would be fine. She still had close to six hours. She’d pulled off bigger projects in less time. She’d be frantic, but she’d get it done.
* * *
Quinn pulled into the small lot next to Bake My Day. Maybe she’d been thinking about Amanda a lot in the last week, but she could just as easily argue she’d been thinking about the job. Not the biggest or even most complicated on her plate right now, but outside of her wheelhouse. And she was a sucker for anything that involved old buildings. Older building, quirky project, and a beautiful client? She’d be worried if she wasn’t preoccupied.
But now was not the time for preoccupation. She had a meeting with that beautiful client, and she was here to discuss business. She grabbed the plans and headed inside.
At least a half dozen people waited in line ahead of her. Looked like lunch service was popular even without the new seating area. Since Amanda was nowhere to be seen, she waited, just as she had for their first meeting.
Instead of ogling the baked goods, she studied the chalkboard displaying the lunch options. Two salads, two sandwiches, and one soup. Limited for sure, but it all looked good. It probably rotated, so people could come again and again and not get bored. Would Amanda expand the selections when she expanded her kitchen? Would she have her hand in the cooking as much as the baking? She’d have to become a regular customer and find out. Even if the bakery was a solid half hour from her house and close to an hour from her office.
“Hi. Quinn Sullivan. I’m here for a meeting with Amanda.” The person behind the register was different from the one she met at her first meeting, so she didn’t feel silly introducing herself again.
“One second.”
She disappeared through the swinging door. Quinn could make out voices, followed by something clattering to the ground. She glanced at her watch to make sure she wasn’t inconveniently early. Nope. Right on time.
A moment later, Amanda emerged from the kitchen looking harried. No, harried didn’t do justice to the state she appeared to be in. Her hair was all tucked up in one of those chef’s caps, her apron smeared with at least four different colors of frosting, and she had a streak of powdered sugar across her forehead. Really, though, it was her eyes. She had an almost frantic look in her eyes. “Quinn.”
“Is everything okay?”
“I’m so sorry. I somehow forgot we had a meeting today and I’m literally drowning in cake.”
“Oh.” Not the end of the world. Deflating, perhaps, since she couldn’t seem to chase Amanda from her thoughts, but Amanda didn’t need to know that. “Um, it’s all right.”
“Is there any chance we could reschedule? I have two deliveries this afternoon and am nowhere near done.”
“Of course.” It happened to everyone at some point, right?
“I really am sorry. Can I text you tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“Mei, box up whatever Quinn wants, on the house.” She tossed another apologetic look Quinn’s way. “Thank you.”
And then she was gone.
It would be silly to take the mix-up as anything more than a simple crossing of wires, the result of one too many things to do and not enough hours in the day. But even as Quinn told herself that, she struggled not to be disappointed.
“What can I get for you?” Mei asked.
Quinn sighed. Did it count as consolation if she’d planned to bring something home all along? She eyed the case. “Cookies, I think. I’ll take one of each kind.”
Eight cookies wasn’t unreasonable if she didn’t eat them all at once, right?
Mei smiled. “Excellent choice.”
While she boxed them up, Quinn pulled out her wallet. “I don’t mind paying, though. Eight feels like an abuse of the nice gesture.”
“Nonsense. You came all this way.”
She didn’t really want to argue. And she had gone out of her way. “Thanks.”
Quinn accepted the box. As she turned to leave, a loud crash came from the kitchen. She couldn’t make out Amanda’s words, but the tone was all expletive. She’d never wish Amanda, or anyone, a bad day, but she couldn’t help but feel a little better that Amanda forgetting about her was perhaps tied up in an above average level of stress.
“Good luck with everything,” she said to Mei, although she mostly meant it for Amanda.
On the drive back to town, she considered calling Joss to reschedule their meeting. They did have another project in the works, though, and it was always nice to connect face-to-face. And since she had no doubt she’d eat all the cookies if she brought them home, stopping by would give her the opportunity to share.
She pulled into the Bauer and Sons parking lot and cut the engine. Maybe she’d luck out and the baby would be in. Babies always lifted her spirits.
She’d no sooner opened the door to the office then Daphne called out a greeting. Not a neighborhood bar, but she appreciated being known by name. “Hey, Daph.”
“Joss called to say she’s running late, but she’ll only be a few minutes.”
Maybe it was something in the water. “No worries. How’re you doing?”
“You know, living the dream.”
“How are the kids?”
“Tyrants. Absolute tyrants.”
“That bad, huh?”
She laughed. “Not really. But they’re enough of a handful that I’m reminded daily two is enough. Which is good because every time Joss brings Charlotte to the office, my hormones try to convince me otherwise.”
Quinn was past any such hormonal flutters, not that she ever had a burning desire for kids of her own. Still, she could appreciate the power of an adorable kid. “Is she walking yet?”
“Not quite, but any day I think.”
Before she could ask more questions, Joss walked in, Charlotte in her arms. “Speak of the devil. Or maybe I should say angel.”
“Hey, Quinn. Sorry to keep you waiting.” Joss shifted the baby and extended her hand.
Quinn shook it. “I literally just got here. And getting to see Charlotte earns you all sorts of concessions.”
Joss grinned. “I’ll remember that next time we go over budget.”
“Now, now. Let’s not get carried away.”
Joss handed the baby over to her sister, who seemed more than happy to set aside the stack of receipts she was entering. Quinn and Joss headed into Joss’s office. She filled Joss in on the canceled appointment and they spent a few minutes commiserating the vagaries of working with clients. They debriefed the upcoming library project and spent a few minutes catching up on life.
“Any more setups?” Joss asked.
Quinn closed her eyes and shook her head. “Two last week. Why won’t people give it a rest?”
“You know you can decline, right?”
She did. And she was going to have to start doing just that if she hoped to preserve her sanity, not to mention her faith in love. “People mean well, though. And they get so excited about it. I feel bad and I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”
Joss leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “Here’s the thing.”
Joss wasn’t big on doling out advice, so Quinn was intrigued. “Yeah?”
“If you’re not feeling it, you’re wasting their time.”
“Huh.” She’d not thought of it that way.
“Assuming the women you’re set up with are looking for a relationship, going out with you is keeping them from meeting the person who might be that relationship.”
“Good point.” And, in a weird way, took a whole lot of pressure off of her.
“Don’t tell my wife I said so, but I’m pretty smart when it comes to women.”
For the first time that day, Quinn laughed. Truly laughed. “I’m so going to hold that over your head the next time you won’t do something I want.”
Joss gave her a look of mild exasperation. “How often do I not do something you want?”
Quinn shrugged. “Rarely.”
“Thank you.”
“Speaking of Olivia, how is she?”
At the mention of her wife’s name, Joss’s features softened. “She’s good.”
“Tenured life treating her well?”
“It’s not technically official until the board votes on it next month, but she says it’s pretty much official at this point.”
Quinn knew firsthand how life changing tenure could be. When Lesedi got it, the pressure of her work got cut in half. At least it had felt that way to Quinn. Those first few years after she got associate professor were some of the best years of their marriage. She sighed at the memory. “It’s going to be fantastic.”
Joss chuckled. “So I’m told. We can’t decide whether to enjoy it for a year or start trying for baby number two.”
She and Joss weren’t super close, but they were definitely more than colleagues. She’d gone to her and Olivia’s wedding and had been to their house for dinner before she and Lesedi broke up. Quinn sighed at that memory, too.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” She missed being married more than she missed Lesedi at this point, which felt like at least a minor improvement. “I think either sounds wonderful.”
Joss got a dreamy look on her face. “Yeah.”
Even with her own angst, she couldn’t be anything but happy for her. Both of them, really. “And it’s not like they’re mutually exclusive.”
“You’ve got a point.” Joss grinned. “So, the bakery woman. Is she a flake?”
She’d managed to go ten whole minutes without thinking about Amanda, but the image of her all disheveled and apologetic popped right back into her mind. “I don’t think so. Or at least I didn’t. I’m hoping this was a fluke.”
“Here’s hoping.”
Working with a scatterbrained and indecisive client could be as bad as working with an overly demanding one. Even with the events of the morning still fresh, she had a good feeling about Amanda. “I think it’s going to work out fine.”
Chapter Eight
Amanda sat at the bar of Fig, a glass of pinot noir in front of her. The giddiness in her stomach left her feeling like a teenager going on a first date. Only this was all the good parts. No worries about whether or not she’d be cool enough or if the kissing would be any good. Going out with Mel had her remembering why dates were worth the bother in the first place.
She sipped her wine and angled in her seat to watch the goings-on around her. One couple sat at the bar, looking cozy, while a man on his own seemed as interested in his phone as he did his drink. Because the bar area was small, she also had a view into the dining room. It
was more than half full, which was nice to see at six on a weekday.
She knew Nick, the owner, from some food service and networking events, and she’d delivered a wedding cake here only a few months prior. It had been his newish head chef getting married, so he’d closed the whole restaurant for the reception. Knowing that, and knowing small places in towns like hers could reinvent themselves and thrive, made her happy on so many levels.
Waitstaff moved efficiently around the room and she tried to snag peeks at the dishes coming out of the kitchen. At one point, the chef emerged in a white chef coat and hat not unlike the one she wore for deliveries. Drew made the rounds, chatting with customers. She imagined doing the same when her bakery had enough space for people to sit and enjoy their food. Even though it wasn’t some fancy restaurant, she wanted her customers to feel appreciated, known.
When Drew glanced her way, she smiled. It was cute to see her face register recognition, then process and ultimately land on how they knew each other. She was glad she wasn’t alone in needing a second sometimes. She didn’t expect a conversation, but Drew crossed the dining room to her.
“Amanda, how nice to see you.”
She shook Drew’s extended hand. “Same. How’s married life treating you?”
Drew’s face softened and took on the look of someone blissfully in love. “Better than I imagined.”
“Good.”
“What brings you in tonight?”
Amanda hesitated. She felt silly saying a date, even though that’s exactly what it was. Maybe it was who she was meeting and not the date itself giving her pause. Either way, weird. “Just meeting a friend for dinner.”
“Nice. How about I send over a little something while you wait? We’ve got a garlic scape pesto bruschetta tonight.”
As delicious as it sounded, she didn’t want to be stuffing her face when Mel arrived. Nor did she want crazy garlic breath. Not that she could admit either of those things without outing herself as a liar. “I’m good, but thank you. I’ve already committed to saving myself for dessert.”
