by Aurora Rey
She considered. “Well, you are giving me the bakery of my dreams.”
Quinn made her face serious. “Um. I’m sorry. Maybe we weren’t fully clear. You’re going to have to pay for that.”
The sound that came out of Amanda was more of a snort than a laugh. Not as sexy, but so genuine and uninhibited. Quinn couldn’t decide which she preferred.
They finished dessert and Amanda refused all offers of help cleaning up. Quinn was sorry to see the meeting end, to be honest, but they were going on three hours. Probably best to make a graceful exit.
Amanda walked her to the door. “Thank you again for being so accommodating.”
“I feel like I should be the one thanking you. Dinner was fantastic.”
“You’re easy.” Amanda folded her arms.
Quinn raised a brow. “Sometimes.”
“I’ll remember that next time I want something from you.”
She held Amanda’s gaze even as her pulse ticked up a notch. “Or you could ask.”
“Maybe I have a hard time asking for things without offering something in return.”
“I could give you a lecture, but it would be a pot and kettle situation.” And true of her personal life as much as her professional habits.
“It’s nice to know I’m not alone,” Amanda said.
The flush that rose in Amanda’s cheeks made her feel bold. Made her feel like herself. “I liked talking about more than work, too, if I’m being honest.”
“Same.”
“So, I think we should do it again.”
Amanda swallowed and felt a flush creep into her cheeks. Was Quinn asking her out? “I’d like that.”
“Maybe with no talk about work at all.”
Aha. All right. She’d thought maybe Quinn was flirting with her, but couldn’t be sure. But that was way more than friendly. “I’d like that, too.”
Amanda opened the door, but Quinn didn’t immediately step through. The hesitation made the air between them feel electric, like the moment before a first kiss. Amanda braced herself for it—excitement and anticipation buzzing through her. Quinn looked at her mouth, then into her eyes.
A car pulling into the driveway broke the moment. The tension or spark or whatever it was dissipated. Amanda glanced over. “That would be my son.”
“Ah.” Quinn’s expression turned sheepish, like she was processing what it would have been like to be caught. Amanda couldn’t help but find it endearing.
“I’ll just catch him so he can let you out.”
“Great. Thanks.”
Amanda stepped onto the porch and waved in Cal’s direction. He put down his window. “What’s up?”
“Could you pull in behind me so Quinn can leave?”
He offered her a playful salute and repositioned his car.
Since a kiss was completely out of the question now, she walked Quinn down the sidewalk. When Cal reached them, she said, “Quinn, this is my son, Cal. Cal, this is Quinn Sullivan. She’s the architect working on the bakery expansion.”
Quinn and Cal exchanged greetings, then Cal headed inside. Quinn seemed unbothered by the interruption. “Still in high school or done?”
“Just finished. He’s starting at Cornell in the fall.”
Quinn smiled. “Congratulations. My nephew just finished his first year in the architecture program.”
“Cal’s planning environmental engineering. We’ll see if it sticks.”
“Yeah. I think Jacob is pretty settled, but who knows?”
While the almost maybe kiss had been nice, this conversation was much more her speed. For better or worse. “As long as he doesn’t change his mind ten times, I think I’ll be okay.”
“Totally reasonable.” Quinn seemed to hesitate again.
“Have a great night.” It came out almost like a question and made her wish she wasn’t so out of practice.
Quinn stuck her hands in her pockets and rocked back on her heels. “You, too.”
Amanda walked back to the house as Quinn got in her car, but she turned to wave from the porch. All the while wondering if Quinn might have kissed her.
Inside, she found Cal with his head in the refrigerator. “Didn’t you eat at Zoe’s?”
“Yeah, but like two hours ago.”
“There’s coq au vin leftover from dinner if you want. Glass bowl with the green lid.”
“Yes.” He dragged out the word and snagged the bowl.
“There’s salad, too.”
He waved her off, scooped out a piece of chicken, and started eating it with his fingers. “I’m good.”
“Don’t you want that warmed up?”
“Nah.”
She shook her head. “I suppose I should be grateful you’re using a plate.”
He shrugged. “Why was your architect over for dinner?”
“Because I forgot I had a meeting with her and felt bad.”
“That’s too bad.”
“I know. She showed up at the bakery and I was frantically trying to finish an order.”
“No, I mean it’s too bad that’s the reason.”
She started cleaning the kitchen around him. “What do you mean?”
“I thought maybe it was a date.”
She didn’t discuss her love life in any great detail with her kids, but they often teased her about getting out more, getting a life. It was mostly that—teasing. Or at least she always figured it was. “We’re working together.”
“So? It’s not like she’s your employee.”
Amanda frowned. She always deflected these kinds of comments, but she didn’t want to this time. Not with Quinn. What was that about? “I know.”
“Seriously, Mom. How long has it been since you’ve been on a date?”
Not counting Mel? God, if Cal or Daniella had a clue about that. She shoved the idea aside. They didn’t and wouldn’t. “A while.”
“Exactly. You’re going to have an empty nest soon. You should start living it up.”
She got the image of a cozy night in with Quinn. Dinner, a fire, a kiss that would lead to more. “I’m pretty happy with my life, thank you very much.”
“You know what I mean.” He sighed and, for the first time, she wondered if maybe there was more to it.
“Are you worried about me?”
He rolled his eyes and she got the impression he wished Daniella was there to back him up. “Not worried worried. We just don’t want you to be lonely.”
Suddenly, the ripple effect of her choices came into focus. She’d always put her kids first, had wanted to as much as she’d felt like it was an obligation. But now she could see she wasn’t modeling the sort of balance she always encouraged them to find. She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him. “You don’t need to worry.”
He returned the hug, but then stepped back and folded his arms. The gesture reminded her so much of Mel she almost laughed. “And what’s your answer when Daniella and I say that to you?”
Touché. “It’s my prerogative to worry about you.”
He lifted his chin with a trace of challenge. “Well, same goes.”
“How’d I get so lucky in the kid department?”
He dropped his hands to his sides and shrugged. “Beats me.”
And just like that, the emotional moment passed and her smart-aleck son was back. She loved that he had the capacity for both. She bumped his shoulder with hers. “Are you in for the night?”
“Yeah. I have to work early tomorrow.”
She kissed his cheek. “Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
She started toward the stairs but paused when he called after her. She poked her head back in the kitchen. “What’s up?”
“Maybe you should think about dating your architect. She’s totally your type.”
She shook her head but laughed. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll take it under consideration.”
His voice followed her up the stairs. “You should listen to me. I’m very smart.”
Chapter Ten
Amanda heard the door swing behind her. Assuming it was Tanya, she didn’t look up from the cake layers in front of her. “Did we make almond pastry cream yesterday? I didn’t see it in the cooler.”
“I don’t know, but I sure hope there’s some leftover for samples,” Mel said.
She resisted a growl and turned. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t answer my texts.”
“Because I didn’t want to talk to you.”
Mel sighed. “I’m trying to apologize.”
Amanda wiped her hands on her apron. “And I’m not interested.”
“Bella and I had a huge fight. I wanted to be with you, but I couldn’t walk out. I mean, we’re trying to figure out whether or not to get divorced.”
The irony of the excuse made her chuckle. “Oh, well then. That makes me feel much better.”
“Don’t be mad.”
Amanda closed her eyes. “I’m not mad.”
“Of course you are. And you have every right to be. Just tell me what I need to do to make it up to you.”
She shook her head. “There’s nothing to make up.”
Mel folded her arms and gave her a look of exasperation. “Your mouth is saying one thing, but your body language is saying another.”
“My body language is saying I don’t want to do this with you anymore. It doesn’t mean I’m angry.”
Mel’s expression changed. It was almost comical to see the recalibration of her switching tactics. “I want to see where this is going. Don’t deny us the chance to find out.”
Twenty years ago, the move would have worked. She’d always been inclined to kiss and make up. Even at her most frustrated, she’d have a soft spot for one or another of Mel’s strategies and Mel was a master of working her way through them until she found the one that worked. But a lot had changed in twenty years.
The conciliatory smile gave way to full charm. Mel angled her head and, without words, managed to convey a sense of come on, you know you want to. “Foot massage.”
It wasn’t fair to tempt women who spent hours and hours on their feet with foot massages. Through the years, Mel had gotten away with a lot courtesy of her skill and willingness to give them. Only Amanda spent a lot less time on her feet than she used to. And she had the money and appreciation for self-care to get massages on a regular basis. “Not this time.”
“So, next time.”
God, she was relentless. Not to mention arrogant. To think she’d once found it attractive. “No next time. Please believe me when I say there won’t be a next time.”
Mel’s shoulders dropped. “All right.”
It wasn’t like her to give in this easily, but at this point, Amanda wanted out of the conversation. “I need to get to work.”
“Of course. I’m sure whatever it is will be delicious.”
She didn’t watch Mel go, the way she had so many times. Instead, she turned her focus to the cakes in front of her waiting to be split and filled and frosted. Because as much as she’d wanted to get rid of Mel, she also had a ton of work to do.
She’d just gotten the first one filled before Tanya burst through the door like the place was on fire. “What was that about?”
Amanda scooped frosting onto the cake and started the crumb coat. “Nothing.”
Tanya’s sniff came with hands on hips and head cocked to one side. “You can refuse to tell me, but don’t lie to me.”
Ugh. She really didn’t have time for this. But she and Tanya had been friends for almost as long as they’d worked together. She knew the intimate details of Tanya’s romantic ups and downs. Not reciprocating would be insulting. “Mel and I slept together, but I realized it was a terrible idea and broke it off and she’s not happy about it.”
“Wait, wait, wait. What?”
She should have known better than to think she could get away with such an abbreviated explanation. She slid the first cake into the cooler and gave Tanya her full attention. “Did you not hear me or do you not believe me?”
Tanya’s mouth came open, then it closed. “The second one.”
“I know.” She took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. “I know.”
“I demand you tell me everything. Literally everything.”
“I promise. Just not now. We’ve got a wedding tonight and three tomorrow.” Not an overly hectic few days, but she needed to be focused if she wanted to keep it that way.
“You have to eat. You can give me the broad strokes when I make you sit down and eat a real lunch.”
She didn’t skip meals, but she did have the bad habit of ten-minute lunches between tasks. “Deal.”
“Do you need anything for now?”
“I don’t think—wait.” She remembered the question she’d accidentally asked Mel. “The almond pastry cream.”
“Top shelf. All the way in the back.” Tanya lifted her chin. “If I don’t see you in an hour, I’m coming for you. Consider yourself warned.”
“Noted.”
Tanya disappeared the way she’d come and Amanda got back to work. Each cake got split in two; the resulting layers got sandwiched with filling. A thin coat of buttercream to seal in the crumbs and create a smooth surface for the second coat of frosting. By the time she finished the three smaller tiers, the two larger ones had chilled enough. She pulled one from the cooler and set it on her turntable. Since this cake would be covered in fondant, it didn’t need to be perfect, but the smoother the frosting, the smoother the final result.
By the time she had all five frosted and ready to be covered and decorated, she’d used up most of the time Tanya had allotted her. Might as well take her break now. Once she was rolling fondant, she preferred to do it all at once.
Amanda washed her hands and headed to the front, only to find Julia and Erin chatting with Tanya. She made a show of spinning on the ball of her foot and going back the way she’d come. A chorus of “hey” and “get your ass back here” followed her. She did as she was told, not really looking to avoid them. If she could tell them all at once, she could save having to tell it multiple times. If only Jack was there.
He swept in, an infant strapped to his chest in a BabyBjorn. “Looks like I almost missed a party.”
It wasn’t unusual for her friends to converge on the bakery at once, but the timing of his arrival made her laugh. Julia grinned at the baby before looking at Jack. “Accidental party. We’d never have an on purpose party and not invite you.”
Erin nodded and shrugged. “As accidental as bumping into each other at a place we all come several times a week can be.”
Jack waved them off. “I’m not worried. I’m the life of your parties and we all know it.”
“I love you, Jack, but you’ve got nothing on this beautiful girl.” Julia had crossed the room and was now making silly faces at the baby, who giggled with delight.
Enissa was cute and had a way of pulling all the attention in the room. Maybe Amanda could let her. She could air her woes on a group text and avoid having to talk about it out loud at all. She knew better than to think she could get away with such a tactic, but it didn’t hurt to dream.
* * *
Quinn walked into the Advocacy Center charity breakfast, a knot of tension in her stomach. Lesedi would be there, but so would three hundred other people. She might have to see her across the room or, at worse, run into her at the raffle table. It would be fine.
Only her life didn’t seem to work that way. She’d barely handed over her ticket before literally bumping into her. “Good morning.”
Lesedi beamed at her. “Well, hello.”
She didn’t see any sign of Lesedi’s new girlfriend, so that counted for something. “How did the semester treat you?”
Lesedi tipped her head back and forth. “Quite good. My last paper hit the Journal of Consumer Behavior.”
Quinn mustered a smile. “Not surprising at all. Congratulations.”
Out of nowhere, or se
emingly out of nowhere, Joanna appeared. She stuck out her hand like they were old friends and not like she’d stolen Quinn’s wife right from under her nose. “Quinn, good to see you.”
Quinn couldn’t quite bring herself to reciprocate the sentiment. She accepted the handshake and wondered how quickly she’d be able to escape. “How’ve you been?”
“Good, good. Gearing up for the late summer term in Monaco.”
Of course they were. They were both marketing professors at Cornell. Lesedi’s area of specialty was consumer behavior, while Joanna’s was luxury brand management. Teaming up on a research project was the start of the affair that ended her marriage. “Sounds exciting.”
Lesedi’s face softened. Whether it was guilt or regret, Quinn could never tell. Not that she was interested in either. “What about you? What do you have cooked up for the summer?”
As someone who wasn’t an academic and didn’t have kids, summer didn’t provide the same kind of dramatic shift as it did for some people. Even people who were married to academics, which she no longer was. She didn’t say as much because it would probably come out bitter. And honestly, she wasn’t bitter. Disappointed, maybe. At worst, jaded. But not bitter. “Nothing major. I’ll take the kayak out, spend as much time as I can on the lake or up at the cabin.”
Lesedi smiled. “I’ll miss the lake.”
“I’m sure you’ll make do with the Mediterranean.”
Both Lesedi and Joanna laughed. Not an arrogant, in your face sort of laugh. More of a what can we do, we’re so blissfully happy sound. Even without the ill intent, it cut.
“How’re your sisters and the kids?” Lesedi asked.
She both loved and hated that Lesedi felt the need to ask about them. It was standard divorce protocol according to her friends and several of the self-help books she’d waded through on the matter, but it left a bad taste in her mouth. At least for now. Maybe that would fade with time. “Good, good. Kids are loving summer. Jacob finished his first year at Cornell.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Lesedi clapped her hands together. “Architecture, right? Following in your footsteps.”
See, this was the problem. Lesedi wasn’t a bad person. She was thoughtful and interested and all the other things Quinn valued in a woman—partner or otherwise. “Yep.”
