The Café between Pumpkin and Pie

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The Café between Pumpkin and Pie Page 19

by Marina Adair


  It looked delicious. Syd only wished she had an appetite to eat it. She picked at it for a while, letting the buttery goodness melt on her tongue. Nan, one of the owners, came out from the kitchen and gave Syd a wave, then wandered over. Sydney wasn’t in the mood to chitchat, but if anyone knew what Gram’s plans had been for her commercial kitchen, it would be Nan. She and Stella went way back together.

  “Well, hello, stranger.” Nan pulled Syd out of her chair and enveloped her in her thin arms. It felt good to be held by one of Gram’s oldest friends. “I won’t keep you from your breakfast, but I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.”

  “I’m okay,” Syd said, though it was a little less than the truth. Just seeing Nan made her nostalgic for her grandmother.

  “I hear Nick Rossi’s been over to do work on Stella’s place. Between you and me, that handsome young man is even better than his father, who was the best carpenter this town ever saw.”

  “I wanted to ask you about that. Do you have time to sit for a few minutes?”

  “For you, of course I do.” Nan took the chair on the other side of the table.

  Syd couldn’t help but notice her gnarled hands. Arthritis, one of the hazards of being a baker. All that dough kneading and rolling wreaked havoc on the joints.

  Syd told Nan about the kitchen and how Gram had commissioned the work even after she’d been diagnosed with cancer. “Do you have any idea why or what her plans were?”

  “Not a clue, dear. If she had told anyone, it would’ve been you,” Nan said.

  Just hearing the words salved Syd’s aching heart. It hurt knowing that Gram had done this without discussing it first with Syd.

  “Do you think it was in the hope that you would stay?” Nan asked. “I know how proud she was of the business you built in San Francisco, but maybe she wanted you to come home.”

  Gram had been Syd’s home, not Moonbright. But to tell that to Nan, who adored the small town, would be an insult.

  “I don’t know, Nan. It seems like a lot of money to spend on a hope and a prayer that I’d stay. I have a lot invested in Bread and Cie. I couldn’t just up and leave California. Gram knew that.”

  “It does seem like a long shot. But I can’t imagine what other reason she might’ve had. In all the years we knew each other, she never spoke to me about starting a food business.” Nan waved her hand at the café. “And I would’ve been the person she’d come to. You keep digging, dear, and let me know what you find out.”

  “I will,” Syd said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She had so hoped that Nan could solve the mystery.

  “In the meantime, I’m hoping you can help me with a problem.” Nan looked down at her hands and sighed. “I’ve started thinking about outsourcing the café’s bread, rolls, and biscuits, and just the other day it occurred to me that you might be just the person. Sadly, these old hands are no longer up to the challenge.”

  Syd sandwiched Nan’s hand between hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s the curse of a bread maker. But I can definitely help. And you’d be doing me a favor too. Gram might’ve told you that I’m opening a second shop in San Francisco. To differentiate it from the first one, I want to start a new line of baked goods and would love to get feedback from you and your customers on what’s working and what isn’t.”

  “Oh my, you’re the answer to my prayers, dear girl.”

  By the time Sydney left, she and Nan had a deal. At least it would give Syd something to focus on while she spent the next few weeks in Moonbright, settling Gram’s estate. She might have to fly to San Francisco a couple of times for various meetings and to keep her eye on the business. But she was now filled with purpose. And she hoped all the baking she planned to do would help her keep her mind off Nick. Because lord knew, he’d already taken up too much space in her head.

  When she got home his truck was parked in its usual spot in the driveway. Syd made sure to park her rental car on the street. If she was covert enough, she wouldn’t have to see him on the way into the house.

  She got all the way to the door when he tapped her on the shoulder and made her jump. “For hell’s sake, were you just lying in wait?”

  “No, but I saw you drive up and thought we should clear the air about what happened last night.”

  “It’s not necessary.”

  “Actually, it is.” He put his hands on his hips where his tool belt usually sat. Good, maybe he was quitting. She could find someone else to make the repairs Dot had suggested.

  “Did it ever occur to you that you’re not the only one on a schedule? If you want to talk, take a number and get in line.” With that, she let herself inside the house and gave the screen door an extra shove, so it slammed in his face.

  She was halfway to the kitchen when her cell phone rang. Boy, Nick was persistent. And fast. He must’ve had her on speed dial. He’d waited sixteen years for the first apology, which he still hadn’t made. He could wait another sixteen for the second one. Or maybe he wanted to blame her for last night’s kiss. Accuse her of throwing herself at him.

  Well, this time around, Syd was a grown-ass woman and there was no mistaking what had happened. She may have gone along with the kiss (enthusiastically, she might add) up until the second Nick had pulled away. But he’d initiated it, not her. And the worst part was that it was a really great kiss. Like up there with one of the best kisses she’d ever had. Even better than Gage’s kisses, and her ex had had plenty of practice.

  She let the call go to voicemail, waited ten seconds, then immediately played the message. It wasn’t Nick.

  “Hi, I’m calling about the Victorian on Maple and the bakery position,” said a woman whose voice Syd didn’t recognize. “I have five years of experience at Bread and Butter in Boston. But I’m looking to relocate to Maine. My parents live in Brewer.” She left a phone number but no name.

  Last Syd looked, there was no job position. If not for the fact that the woman had referenced “the Victorian on Maple,” Syd would’ve thought it was a mistake, a wrong number. But the coincidence was uncanny. Too uncanny. She called the number back and got voicemail. Syd left a brief message and hung up. Either someone was playing a trick on her or this had something to do with Gram’s commercial kitchen.

  Syd stared up at the ceiling. “Gram, are you messing with me? First it was the reflection of Nick in the toaster and now this. What are you up to, oh grandmother of mine?”

  No answer from the heavens came forth. But perhaps the so-called job applicant could help her unravel what the hell was going on.

  * * *

  At the end of the day, Nick decided to take another stab at an apology. Syd couldn’t ignore him forever. From the carriage house he could see her through the kitchen window. She was either fixing dinner or baking.

  He tapped on the back door.

  “Go away,” she yelled.

  He told himself it was exigent circumstances and let himself in. “Will you give it a rest and just talk to me.”

  “There’s nothing to say.” She pulled a tin of muffins out of the oven.

  They smelled so good that he was momentarily at a loss for words. He was also pretty sure that if he asked for one, she’d hit him over the head with the pan.

  “I’m sorry, Syd. That shouldn’t have happened last night. It was totally unprofessional. You’re a client for hell’s sake.”

  “I’m not your client.” She put the muffins down and put her hands on her hips. “My late grandmother is, remember?”

  Those were his own words coming back to mock him.

  “Okay, well, in that case I’m not sorry.” He flashed a wicked grin, hoping he could charm her into accepting his apology. But from the scowl on her face, it didn’t appear to be working.

  “Look, let’s just forget about it, okay? It was a kiss in the heat of the moment. Nothing more. So can we drop it?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender.

  “A
re the ovens still slated for the end of the week?” She was all business now. For some reason, that turned him on even more than last night’s red dress, and he suddenly wanted to kiss her again. The first one, as good as it was, had only whetted his appetite.

  He moved closer to her as if he were being pulled by gravity. “Yep, even though I’m advising that we wait.”

  Her response was to ignore him. So much for his recommendation.

  “Like I said, it’s an expensive piece of equipment to plunk in the middle of a construction zone. But suit yourself.”

  “I always do.” She gave him a withering look but didn’t back away. They were so close he could smell the sweetness of her breath. “I’m going to be baking for the Corner Café, so I need those ovens up and running. Pronto.”

  “I think it was you who only minutes ago said you’re not my client.” He jutted his chin at her in defiance.

  That sort of took the wind out of her bullshit sails because she couldn’t have it both ways. Either he worked for her late grandmother or he worked for her.

  “If you would be so kind as to have the ovens up and running by this weekend as you promised you would, I would be extremely grateful.” She spoke in a saccharine voice that would’ve given anyone a mouthful of cavities.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  She thanked him with a tight smile.

  “You planning to keep this up for the next four weeks?” He wagged his hand between them. “I had hoped we could bury the hatchet.” Clearly, she was equating last night to what had happened in high school and was still angry from all those years ago. “Why don’t we clear the air once and for all?”

  “Why don’t we?” She waved her hand through the air. “Clear away.”

  “I told Jen the truth that day. That it was me, not you, who initiated the kiss. We fought about it for days.”

  “Yet you didn’t tell everyone else. You just let our entire junior class believe that I threw myself at you. You let me be a laughingstock to protect your mean girlfriend.”

  “I told anyone who would listen.”

  “Right.”

  “What did you want me to do, Sydney, take out an ad in the Moonbright Sun. It was idle gossip. The only one who cared was Jennifer.”

  “And me!”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Syd. I wish I’d been better equipped at sixteen to fix it. I was an immature, stupid kid, who thought honesty was enough. I told the truth. But people chose to believe Jen. I hurt her and she lashed out. Unfortunately, you were the one punished. I should’ve done better.”

  “Yes, you should’ve.”

  He scrubbed his hand down his face, wishing he had been more resolute in his defense of Syd. Looking back on it, he’d been so consumed with guilt where Jen was concerned that he’d let her run roughshod over the situation. He’d been too inexperienced to realize that wanting to kiss another girl might’ve been a warning sign that his and Jen’s relationship wasn’t as solid as he’d thought.

  “If I could go back in time, I’d change it. But to set the record straight, last night had nothing to do with high school, Syd.” He’d wanted her in the way a man wants a woman. Not the way a curious boy experiments with a girl. “It was wrong for professional reasons. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to do it again.” The corner of his mouth tipped up.

  His words seemed to stun her into silence. But lack of verbal response didn’t stop her cheeks from turning bright red. Seemingly stymied about how to respond, she lifted one of the muffins out of the baking tin and handed it to him. It was still warm.

  He took a chair at the breakfast table and ate while watching her plate the rest of the muffins.

  She handed him a napkin. “Do you want something to drink? I can make coffee.”

  “Nah, I’m good.” He held up his partially eaten muffin. “This is probably dinner.”

  She deliberated for a few seconds—Nick suspected she was trying to decide whether to forgive him—then took pity on him. “I can make you something. Leftover soup or I could quickly throw together some pasta.”

  “Soup would be great.” He was just happy she was talking to him again.

  She got a container from the fridge, a pot from the rack over the stove, and began heating the soup. Her phone rang. Syd checked the screen and turned it off.

  “You don’t need to get that?”

  “It’s my ex.”

  “You don’t take his calls?”

  “Not if I can help it. But he’s also my business partner and the principal investor in Bread and Cie.”

  That had to suck. “Yeah, I try not to mix business with pleasure for that reason,” he said, hoping to make it clear why he’d pulled away after their kiss the night before. Though there were plenty of other good reasons. Namely that she was just passing through and casual hookups left him cold these days.

  But he was relieved that their conversation had veered past her hostility toward him and once again appeared to be on normal footing. Whatever that was.

  “That’s why I don’t plan to have a partner the next time around.”

  “What happened between you two if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Well, first Tatiana happened. Then Sue, along with Kelly. There may have also been a Rita along the way. But who’s counting?”

  “Ouch.”

  “Now he’s engaged to my former assistant. Poor girl.” Syd rolled her eyes.

  “How long were you two together?”

  “Since the inception of Bread and Cie, so about five years. We ended things last summer when I found him in bed with Kelly . . . my former assistant. As you can imagine, things went terribly downhill from there.” She laughed, leading him to believe that she was over the guy.

  “You seem to be taking it well.”

  “Oh, I didn’t. Not at first. But you know what they say. Time heals all wounds. And he is an excellent businessman. I’ll give him that.”

  Nick thought it was pretty generous of her, given that the guy sounded like a giant douchebag. “He doesn’t have a problem with your opening another bakery? I would’ve thought there’d be a no-compete clause in your partnership contract.” He and his brothers were as tight as any close-knit family. But their father had insisted on the clause to ensure that one of them didn’t go off on his own because of a hotheaded familial squabble.

  “As the wronged half of a couple, I was allowed some concessions.” Her mouth slid up. “Besides, I would never compete against myself. The new place is much smaller in scope than Bread and Cie. It’ll really be just a neighborhood bakery that specializes in bread. Most of the recipes will be markedly different from what we make at Bread and Cie. That’s why I’m in a rush to start baking with professional equipment to test some of my new stuff out. This old oven isn’t going to cut it.” She took the pot off the burner and ladled them each a bowl of soup.

  He nodded. “I’ll make it happen.”

  “So, I aired all my dirty laundry. Now it’s your turn. What really happened with you and Jen?”

  He stretched his legs under the table. “We want different things is all. She wants the penthouse in Manhattan, a summer place in the Hamptons, and to hobnob with people who spend more money on their suits than I do on a truck. But it wasn’t just the money. Moonbright, Maine, was never going to be enough for her.” If anyone understood that, it would be Syd. She’d sped out of Moonbright at light speed after high school graduation and never looked back.

  “No room for compromise?” Syd brought their bowls to the table.

  “The only place I ever wanted to live was Moonbright. I like working with my brothers and carrying on the business my father built from the ground up. I’ve never been interested in joining Jen’s business, remodeling the homes she sells.”

  “Was that what she wanted?” Syd tilted her head.

  “Yeah. It makes sense and I probably would make a shitload of money. But it’s not me. It’s not where I want to be.”


  Syd didn’t say anything for a long time, making him wonder what she was thinking. That he lacked ambition? That he was too simple? Too unsophisticated?

  “What?” he finally said.

  “You really want to know?”

  He nodded, even though he recognized that a woman like her wouldn’t understand.

  “It’s only my humble opinion and perhaps I’ve read too many romance novels, but it seems to me that if two people are destined to be together, they meet each other halfway.”

  He’d spent a lot of time contemplating that idea. Was it that he and Jen had wanted two different things or was it that they didn’t want each other enough to meet in the middle? He wasn’t even sure he could love anyone more than he loved his life in Moonbright.

  “Then again, maybe I’m being naïve,” Syd said with a toss of her head. “Everyone knows that relationships are hard, especially for the long haul. So, it makes sense that if a couple doesn’t share the same values from the start, there’s probably a good chance they’re doomed. Realistically, I don’t think I could leave the life I’ve built for someone else. And if I did, it would have to be a life I wanted too.”

  “Yep.” She’d summed up his entire philosophy on love in a nutshell.

  Chapter 7

  The weather in Moonbright had gone from crisp and cool to downright blustery. Surely a storm was on the horizon. But Syd had lived in California so long that she’d lost her inherent skill to predict New England weather patterns. Nevertheless, she didn’t need a calendar to tell her Thanksgiving was just weeks away. The leaves were a gorgeous burnt red and orange and everyone in town seemed to be anticipating the holiday.

  It would be her first Thanksgiving without Gram. Even though it was a hectic time for a baker, either Syd had flown to Maine for a quick visit or Gram had come to San Francisco. Last year, Stella had even come with Syd to Bread & Cie and helped with the last-minute holiday rush.

  Eight months later, Gram had received her diagnosis. Syd would always be thankful for the time they’d had together. This year, it would be just her. She planned to make the best of the holiday by baking up a storm for the Corner Café, where her bread would start debuting as soon as Nick finished installing the ovens.

 

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