“I lost track of time. Jules was here and we’re working with August Niles for five events in the next four months. I’m three seconds away from throat-punching him. He’s been through eight assistants in nine months. I’m working with his new one now and she’s sweet. I hope he doesn’t chew her up and spit her out. Everything has to be perfect or he’ll probably incinerate me with his dragon fire.”
“If someone’s giving you trouble, tell me and I’ll deal with it.” His face was a mask of seriousness. And he’d kick whoever’s ass he needed to when it came to Elle.
After everything that had kept them apart—mainly Elle’s stubbornness—they were living their fairy tale in a two bedroom apartment above Nix’s grandfather’s restaurant, Tavola. My happiness for her was absolute, but tinged with the sadness that I’d probably never experience it. The closest I’d come was thirty dirty notes to a guy who’d pushed me so far into the friend zone I could smell the freshly mown grass.
“Oh no.” She ducked out from under his arm. “You’re not getting involved.”
“Help me out here, Jules.” Nix looked to me with his talk some sense into her look.
I jumped a little. His focus had been so completely on Elle, I hadn’t realized he knew I was there.
“I’m siding with Elle here on the argument of whether or not to beat up some guy she works with. Sorry, Nix.”
He shook his head and unboxed our food. “Did Elle tell you she gave your cookies and brownies to Avery Cunning from Bread & Butter?”
I nearly tripped over the coffee table and braced my hands on the smooth table top. “You what?” It was a screech to end all screeches. Some of the newly dried paint peeled off the walls.
Nix winced and stuck his finger in his ear.
“I can’t believe I forgot.” Elle smacked her hand to her forehead. “I was so distracted by your other news. It slipped my mind.”
“What news?” Nix looked between us.
She waved him off. “Nix has been looking at new dessert providers since the pastry chef left and they’re focusing more on the savory dishes. And Avery’s name shot to the top of the list, since you’ve turned down my offers to run your own little dessert factory out of our old place. They’ve been looking to branch out with collaborations and trying new things. And everything that comes out of there makes me want to die so it’s the last thing I’ve ever tasted.”
I sputtered. “I freaking know.” Covering my face with my hands, I sank onto the couch. “Did you actually give her something I made?” It was like showing up to a master art class with your paint by numbers coloring book.
“It was the salted caramel you’ve been making a lot of lately, the peanut butter chunk brownies, and the toffee espresso cookies. I gave her the container you brought over two weeks ago. Letting them go was probably the third hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
Throwing my arm over the back of the couch, I stared at her as she described the interaction like it was no big deal that Avery Freaking Cunning, owner of one of the best bakeries in the city, had my cookies in her possession.
“Well, not all of the cookies.” Nix bumped her shoulder.
“I only stole a few out of there. I didn’t hear any complaints when you wolfed down all but a half of one I rescued from that non-stop chewing machine you call a mouth.”
He ducked his head and pretended he hadn’t heard that last little bit.
“She probably threw them out the second she had the chance.” I dropped my head against the back of the couch and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to breathe through the teacup terrier racing around my stomach.
“Not even close.” Elle leaned against the couch beside my head. “She took a bite and her eyes fluttered closed and she even moaned a little.”
My head popped up. “Shut up!” I shoved at her shoulder and she nearly fell back over the couch.
“Yes, really. Do I ever joke when it comes to your food? Would you stop it! Everyone loves everything you make.” She locked onto my gaze. “Everyone. But I didn’t want to tell you anything until I knew for sure.”
“Knew for sure what?”
“I mentioned them branching out and toying with the idea of collaborations, well, she was talking about this new thing she’s thinking about. And she asked you to come in for an interview.”
I shot straight up. “Interview?”
“Sort of. She knows you’re still in school and have classes and stuff, so it’s not like working there full time or anything, but she was thinking you might be interested in an internship of sorts.”
Containing the giddiness at working alongside Avery Cunning in the kitchen wasn’t happening in the slightest. I bounced on the couch, rocking the whole thing, but I didn’t care. “I’ll clean the ovens if that’s what she wants.” Bread & Butter had been featured in every city magazine over the past couple years. If I worked with her, learned from her, I’d have an in with most bakeries and restaurants in the city. I didn’t have a formal culinary education, so I’d been trying to figure out how to break into the business with my Philosophy degree.
“Perfect. Here’s her number.” Elle scrounged around in her purse and pulled out a business card.
“You’ve had her number all this time and you’ve been holding out on me?” I snatched the paper from her hand, clutching it to my chest like a goblin with some newly-discovered gold coins. I kept myself from whispering ‘precious,’ but only just.
“Not like you’d have done anything other than stare at it, which is why I gave her yours, so if she calls, please pick up.” She took a plate from Nix and handed it over to me.
I waved it off. Eating wasn’t happening until Avery Cunning spoke those magic words to me. I clutched the pale pink rectangle of paper against my chest even harder. Avery’s personal number was scribbled across the back.
I left Nix and Elle to do the thing couples do when they’re completely in love—make out. The third not-so-stealthy kiss between those two was my cue to go.
Once off the bus, triple-checking that my ringer was on and at full volume, I held on to my phone, afraid it would get lost in my bag and I’d miss the call. The call.
Avery was calling tomorrow. I did a little dance and my steps quickened.
I stopped at the bottom of the porch steps. The lights were on across the street in Berk’s room. I looked up at his window and had to wrestle the nearly overpowering urge to run up there and tell him my good news. Or head back inside and write him a note the way I used to.
There was a hole in my life where our letters used to live, but after baking a cake for the mysterious Alexis last year, I’d had to cut myself off. And I didn’t have the balls to ask him who she was, but who, especially a college football player, ordered a cake for someone they didn’t care about. Not like I’d have had a right to pry. The Letter Girl would’ve deserved an explanation, but I was just his neighbor across the street. That would’ve made me come off like the weirdo girl who was way too into him.
Obviously he cared about Alexis, even the other guys knew about her, although they didn’t really seem to have high opinions of her, and I hadn’t been able to glean any specifics.