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I’m over that now.
I’m focused, hopeful, and one hundred percent ready for the future.
Now if I could only get my key card out of my purse—
“Here. Let me take those for you.”
And then the bakery boxes are lifted out of my hands into the waiting ones of… Pierce Chevalier.
“You,” I say, all my Zen bullshit flying out the window. “You,” I seethe again. “What are you doing here? If you think you’re gonna threaten me again, well, buddy, let me just school you in what’s gonna happen next—“
“Hey, wait a minute. I’m not here to threaten you, Eden.”
“Oh, so now you know my name!”
Pierce is a handsome man. And he’s got a very charming smile. Which he unleashes on me right now as he shuffles the boxes into one hand and places the other over his heart in a gesture that makes my heart ache because I think about Andrew crossing his heart with promises. “You’re quite unforgettable. I will never make that mistake again.”
I huff out a breath of air that sends my hair flying up and my glasses sliding down my nose. But I’m not in the mood to push them back into place. Because I have things to say to this man. “You know what my motto is, Pierce?”
“Uh… Eat dessert first?”
“When things get hard, I work harder.” But I kinda like his motto too. I might have to revise.
“Look, I’m here to apologize. And if you’ll just invite me in, I swear, you won’t regret it.”
Now I do push my glasses up my nose. “Don’t be so sure, mister. I’m still pretty upset about things.” Which is only half true. I mean… I really did find my inner Zen, even if I lost it for a second there. But I feel obliged to play this part with him.
Pierce places a hand over his mouth, trying to hide a chuckle, I think. Which kinda pisses me off all over again, because I get the feeling this guy doesn’t take me seriously. But then he says, “Please. Eden. Five minutes of your time. I promise to make those minutes as sweet as the desserts inside these boxes.”
“Five. Minutes,” I growl, turning to flash my key card at my door lock. “I’m a very busy businesswoman.”
I don’t look back at him, but I think he’s chuckling again.
I open the door and wave him in, but he says, “After you.”
So I go inside and… sigh. I’m kinda glad to be home. I mean hanging out with Zoey and baby Stevie was fun and super productive, but I missed this place.
It’s home now. Even though the main reason I moved here is gone, I still feel like my future is in the TDH.
“Should I put these in your kitchen?” Pierce asks. But then he kinda squints his eyes at my tiny kitchenette and looks around for another option.
“Just give them to me,” I say, letting my overnight bag thump to the floor next to the bathroom door. “I’ve got to put them in the fridge so the frosting doesn’t go bad.”
He looks at my apartment-sized refrigerator, then back at my stack of pink boxes, and spends about five seconds wondering how I’m gonna do that.
I just take the boxes from him and open the fridge door.
It’s kinda packed with old take-out containers, and I’m trying to balance the pastries on my hip as I rearrange things, when Pierce comes over and starts clearing space for me.
I watch him sniff the containers, and then unceremoniously throw them in the trash. “So listen,” he says, moving on to reorganizing my condiments. “First of all. Andrew—“
“I don’t want to talk about him. OK? So if you’re here on his behalf, I’m sorry, but I’m gonna ask you to leave. I’ve moved on, he’s moved on…” And then I just get sad, so I shut up and start placing the boxes inside the fridge.
“OK,” Pierce says, checking the expiration date on the ranch dressing. “That’s not really why I’m here. I’m here to make you an offer.”
“No,” I say. “I’m not interested.”
“You didn’t even hear it.”
“Doesn’t matter. The Sexpert was our idea and we don’t care how many threats you throw at us, my dad has a lawyer who said he’d help us for free if we needed it, and we’ll use him if we have to. We will.”
My dad does have a lawyer friend, and he did say he’d help us for free, but he’s like some kind of estate planning guy. Still, it sounds good in the moment.
“There’s not going to be any lawsuits.”
“There’s not?”
“No. I’ve… I’ve decided… When did you come up with the idea?”
“When? Like two years ago. I didn’t steal your idea, Pierce.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
“How?”
“I know.”
OK. Fine. He can be mysterious. Just as long as he doesn’t sue me.
