Brunch at Bittersweet Café

by Carla Laureano

  Also, a number of my favorite Denver settings were reworked for Brunch at Bittersweet Café. The corner storefront on Old South Pearl, where I set Gibraltar Mediterranean Bakery and later Bittersweet Café, is actually home to Duffeyroll, a Denver cinnamon-bun institution. I also borrowed the location of Bistro Barbès, an excellent European/North African restaurant, for my fictional Soyokaze. ChoLon Bistro, which inspired the interior design of Paisley in The Saturday Night Supper Club, makes an uncredited appearance as itself (menu and all) as the Asian restaurant where Melody brings Justin after their bookstore date. Last, Noelle Patisserie in San Francisco was inspired by the real-life Inner Sunset bakery Tartine, founded by baking superstars Chad Robertson and Elisabeth Prueitt.

  About the Author

  CARLA LAUREANO is the RITA Award–winning author of contemporary inspirational romance and Celtic fantasy (as C. E. Laureano). A graduate of Pepperdine University, she worked as a sales and marketing executive for nearly a decade before leaving corporate life behind to write fiction full-time. She currently lives in Denver with her husband and two sons, where she writes during the day and cooks things at night.

  Discussion Questions

  Melody has struggled to settle down or commit to a direction for her life, always wondering if something better might be just around the corner. Are you more inclined to put down roots or keep your options open? How has that affected your life?

  If you came into an inheritance or sudden financial windfall, with the stipulation that you use it to pursue a cherished dream, what would you do?

  Melody finds comfort by revisiting some of her grandmother’s favorite desserts and handed-down recipes. Are there specific recipes that tie you to loved ones or to cherished memories?

  As Rachel and Melody begin to plan their bakery-café, the pieces fall into place without much effort, making Melody think it must be God’s doing. Have you experienced something similar? What did it teach you about God’s timing?

  Justin attempts to control his attraction to Melody because he’s sure they can’t have a long-term relationship. On the surface, that seems very responsible and logical. How can our need for order and control affect our ability to see what God is doing in our lives?

  How do Melody’s past mistakes color her approach to relationships? In what ways does her caution seem wise, and where does it hold her back?

  Both Justin and Melody bear the consequences of shaky relationships with their parents and a lack of communication. How do both come to realize they might’ve misinterpreted past events? How does your relationship with your parents affect how you see the world and others?

  Ana and Rachel fear Melody is making a bad choice in dating Justin, but they voice their worries in a way that comes across as harsh and judgmental. As Melody’s friends, did they have a responsibility to express their concerns? How should they have handled the situation?

  Justin believes in God but feels he’s been let down—that the tragedies and difficult circumstances he and his loved ones have endured are proof God doesn’t care. Have you experienced similar doubts? What would you say to Justin in response?

  Melody eventually comes to understand that what she saw as faith was closer to wishful thinking. How would you define faith? Is there a difference between trusting in God’s blessings and trusting in God Himself?

  FOR TEN SECONDS AFTER Ana opened her eyes, she was happy.

  All too quickly, yesterday’s twin disasters crashed over her like breaking waves, sweeping away those fragile particles of contentment. She might have mitigated her most recent client disaster, but she wasn’t naive enough to think that was the end of it.

  Still, for all the distaste she had for her new client, he wasn’t her bigger problem. Rachel and Alex still didn’t have a wedding venue, and every day she procrastinated was one day closer to potential disaster.

  Ana hauled herself out of bed, brushed her teeth, then sat down with a cup of coffee to tackle her list. Even so, it was probably a lost cause. What were the chances any halfway decent venue would have any cancellations, much less on the particular date they needed?

  Hours later, Ana had half a list with lines through it, the other half with notations to call back. She pinched the bridge of her nose for a long moment and then drained her coffee. She would call all the venues that hadn’t responded on Monday, but she didn’t have high hopes for them. She wouldn’t stop looking, but she still hated the feeling that she’d failed them.

  At least she got to spend the evening with her friends. She went to the bathroom to freshen up her makeup, then traded her T-shirt for a floral-printed chiffon button-down and slipped into a pair of bright-green, pointy-toed flats. The cheerful patterns and colors made her smile. Spring kept threatening through bouts of snow; she was going to pretend that today’s sunshine would stay. She transferred the contents of her purse into a more casual handbag, grabbed her keys, and headed downstairs for her car. She’d be early, purposely—better to tell Rachel the bad news in private.

  Predictably, street parking on Old South Pearl in Platte Park was as bad as ever, cars lining the streets on both sides and down intersecting roads. She circled the block twice without finding a space, then gave up and pulled into the crowded alley behind the building. Both Rachel’s old Toyota and Melody’s Jeep were parked there, where they’d likely been since 4 a.m. Even nine months after opening, her friends were still working fourteen-hour days.

  Ana stepped out of her SUV, avoiding a greasy puddle that had formed in the pot-holed asphalt, and moved toward the back door. Unlocked. She pushed through, the heat from the kitchen hitting her immediately in contrast to the cool outside air. “Hello?”

  Melody saw her first. “Ana!” She turned away from what she was doing—labeling large round containers with Sharpies on masking tape—and held her arms out for a hug. “I’m glad you came early. We could use some help setting the table. We’re running behind tonight.”

  Ana flicked a glance across the kitchen to the range, where Rachel stood, stirring something in a gigantic pot with a long-handled spoon. They could be behind or on time, but you’d never know from looking at Rachel; in the kitchen, she always had the same measured stance and unreadable game face.

  “Hey, Ana,” Rachel threw over her shoulder in greeting. She offered one arm for a sideways hug before turning back to her pot. “Sorry, the risotto’s almost done. How are you?”

  “Long, crummy week. I’m glad to be here and see you guys.” Ana inhaled deeply. “Something smells amazing. What are we having?”

  “Braised lamb shanks over parmesan-mushroom risotto. My guy brought in some morels this morning, and there was no way I was going to pass them up.”

  “I’m hungry already. What can I do?”

  Rachel nodded her head in the direction of the kitchen door. “Can you set the tables? The plates and flatware are on the front counter.”

  “Sure thing.” Ana backtracked and put her purse and her wool coat in the staff room, not much more than a closet in the back of the kitchen, and then headed out front to get the tables ready for guests.

  To say that Bittersweet Café was her happy place was perhaps understating things a bit. The way all the details had come together was downright magical; nowhere in Denver’s history had a functional café and bakery materialized in under four months. But Ana had no doubt that there had been a healthy measure of divine intervention in the situation; she could feel it in the mood and the atmosphere of this place. Light, welcoming, refreshing. It was no wonder they’d quickly developed a devoted following. They were already in the middle of plans to take over the vacant space in the strip mall beside them and expand to meet their ever-growing demand.

  Ana couldn’t be prouder.

  If she were truthful, she was also a little jealous. She might be good at her job, and she was certainly well paid, but there was an allure to the idea of working with her best friends, being surrounded by delicious food and baked goods. Too bad she had absolutely no culinary
talent. Her mom had made sure she could cook rice properly and prepare Filipino dishes like adobong manok and kaldereta, but her skills stopped there.

  Ana carried the stack of plates to the tables and set each salad plate precisely in front of each chair, making sure the square edge of the dish was parallel to the edge of the table. Two forks went to the right, a knife and a spoon to the left, each piece placed as carefully as the plate.

  She was surveying the table, trying to decide what it needed, when the bell on the front door jingled. She turned, a greeting for Alex on her lips, then froze. Not Alex. His best friend.

  “You’re back.” It was a dumb, obvious thing to say, but as she looked over Bryan Shaw, she wasn’t sure she’d have recognized him on the street. His usually short hair was shoulder-length, now pulled back in a ponytail, his typically clean-shaven face covered by a short beard. It was Bryan, but not.

  “Hey, Ana.” He approached her slowly with a smile, and then they did that awkward thing where they tried to figure out whether a handshake or hug would be appropriate. Apparently, he went for hug, because before she could decide for herself, his arms were around her. She gave him a squeeze back, inhaling deeply, and then wishing she hadn’t when the whiff of his familiar cologne put a tremor in her middle. She pulled back. “When did you get back in town?”

  “So, I’m just going to go say hi to Rachel,” Alex said, “since no one has noticed me anyway. . . .”

  Ana laughed, and a flush heated her cheeks. “Sorry, Alex. I promise, if you disappear without a trace for nine months, I will give you the same greeting.”

  “I’m holding you to that.” Alex looked between both of them with a knowing smile and then pushed into the kitchen.

  Bryan watched his friend go and then gave a self-conscious laugh. “I got back on Wednesday. I asked Alex not to say anything because I wanted to make a grand entrance.”

  “Then you’re about a half hour too early.”

  “No, I’m not.” He gave her his trademark half smile, and Ana let out a laugh.

  “Whew. For a second there, I thought you’d come back from Colombia a different person. Nice to see the Bryan I know is still in there.”

  Bryan looked pained by the statement, but he shifted back on his heels and crossed his arms across his chest. “You look good, Ana. How have you been? Still saving the world one publicity crisis at a time?”

  Ana leaned back against the edge of the counter, bracing her hands beside her. “More like saving people from their own stupidity one publicity crisis at a time. You remember that coffee shop in Five Points with the image problem?”

  “The one that had to close because of their racist sign? I actually saw it on Westword while I was gone.”

  Ana shook her head. “No, the other one.”

  “What other one?”

  “Exactly.”

  Bryan threw his head back and laughed. “I missed you. I missed all of you, in fact.”

  She let the pleasure of the words wash over her for a moment before she shut down the feeling with methodical brutality. It had always been like this between her and Bryan. A little flirtation, a little mutual appreciation, always dancing around the fact that whatever they might think or feel about the other person, they’d never act on it. It was one thing to bring new people into their group—Alex had become part of it, as had Melody’s boyfriend, Justin—but she and Bryan were core members, owed equal loyalty from everyone else. Should they get together and it not work out, it would make things hopelessly awkward.

  Ana gestured to the table. “Come have a seat and tell me all about it. Unless you want to wait until everyone gets here.”

  The door chimed before the words were fully out of her mouth. “Tell us what when everyone gets here?”

  Ana laughed as Melody’s impossibly good-looking pilot boyfriend entered the café. “Hi, Justin. Come on in. Melody’s in the kitchen.”

  Justin smiled at Ana, then his eyes fell on Bryan. He extended a hand. “You’re back.”

  “Appears so.”

  “Good trip?”

  “I’m not sure I’d use the word good, but it was definitely illuminating.” Bryan’s expression became thoughtful. “No, I take that back. It was good. I’m just glad to be home.”

  Ana sensed there was much more to this story than he was letting on, but she didn’t have time to ask when the door dinged and another group of supper club guests arrived at the café. Only then did she realize she’d missed her window to tell Rachel privately about the wedding venue problem.

  * * *

  Somehow, Bryan hadn’t counted on seeing Ana at the supper club, which was somewhat ridiculous. She, Rachel, and Melody had been friends for years, rarely separated during their time off. Or at least that had been the case until recently. Rachel had Alex, with a wedding looming on the horizon. Melody apparently had Justin—though the last time Bryan had been in town, they’d broken up and Justin had moved to Florida to run a charter aviation business he’d purchased.

  But Ana . . .

  He’d been interested since the moment he met her at Alex’s barbecue, and not in the way that he had been interested in most women. She was interesting: tough, abrupt, funny. Didn’t take his flirting too seriously, dished it right back to him in a way that said she saw through the act. And while there was unmistakable chemistry between them, she was just as reluctant as he was to see where things might go.

  Back then, it had been because he knew she wasn’t the type to go for a casual hookup, and he was pretty sure Alex would destroy him if he slept with her and then broke up with her. Now, it was for a totally different reason. He was all too aware of his faults, all too aware of how easy it had been to abandon his values when he’d gotten his heart broken. Anything he had with a woman from here on out had to be a real relationship, not a convenience, something he was pretty sure he’d forgotten how to do since Vivian. Ana could not be his trial attempt at getting back on the straight and narrow.

  Fortunately, the repeated chime of the front doorbell interrupted the questions he saw lingering in Ana’s eyes and turned their attention to greeting the stream of new guests.

  Bryan attempted to anticipate where everyone was going to sit so he’d end up near Ana, but they still ended up on opposite ends of the table and he couldn’t reshuffle without drawing too much attention to himself.

  Rachel and Melody brought out the food, and baskets and bowls were passed around the table, the light buzz of conversation fading into the background. Bryan wasted no time attacking his main course, and he closed his eyes in happiness at the first bite of lamb. Colombian food had been fine: hearty and surprisingly flavorful. But he’d missed his friend’s cooking and all the amazing restaurants in Denver. It was a different world for sure.

  Ana was watching him in a way that made him think she’d read his mind and gave him a small smile. “So, are you going to tell us where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing? Or are you going to make us wait until dessert?”

  “Honestly, I hadn’t thought much past the lamb. It’s amazing, Rachel. Thanks for letting me be a last-minute addition.”

  Rachel smiled her acknowledgment, and everyone at the table echoed his thoughts, but from the eyes fixed on him, he knew he wasn’t going to get to enjoy his meal until he explained.

  Might as well be blunt. “I bought a coffee farm in Colombia.” He went through the whole story for what felt like the dozenth time, though he left out the loss of his sponsorship and the situation with Vivian, of course. Then he went on to the real kicker. “I’m going to be opening a roasting business here in Colorado. But before I can, I’m looking for funding to help me get set up.”

  Ana was the first to speak. “Your dad wouldn’t help?”

  “He’s looking over a proposal, but he’s pretty risk averse, even if it’s his own son.” Bryan paused. “Especially when it’s his own son. And I’d rather have an outside partner if I could manage it. Family and business usually doesn’t mix.”

&
nbsp; “Any leads?” Alex asked.

  “I have a couple of friends that I’m going to approach. We’ll see what happens.” Friends might be overstating it a little bit. Acquaintances was probably a better word. But Denver wasn’t a large city, and considering who his father was, he had a pretty good idea of who might invest and who wouldn’t.

  “So, do you have a business name?” Melody asked.

  “The farm is called Flor de Oro, but nothing has really stuck yet for the roastery.”

  Guests began throwing out potential names for his roastery, but once again he felt Ana’s eyes on him, assessing. Or maybe it just seemed that way to him. He hadn’t expected to feel this aware of her presence in the room. Apparently, time and distance hadn’t dimmed the attraction.

  When the main course was finished and all plates were cleared, Melody brought out their dessert: strawberry custard tarts. “We’d normally have specialty coffee to serve, but our barista Mark had an emergency. But we do have some regular drip, and it’s pretty good if I do say so myself.”

  “I can pull shots,” Ana said.

  Now everyone looked at her, including Rachel and Melody.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t know you knew anything about coffee,” Bryan said.

  She gave him a slight smile. “You know very little about me.” She rose from her seat. “What does everyone want?”

  “You don’t have to do that, Ana,” Rachel said quickly. “Sit down and enjoy dinner. Besides, the dessert is pretty sweet, so I recommend black coffee to pair with it.”