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ChapterEight
Harper drizzled salted caramel sauce over the top of the butter cream icing on the caramel cupcakes. The two dozen squat domes of calorie laden goodness, her second batch today, sat in four lines on the café’s stainless steel worktable. With Carol sick, Harper had kitchen duty. The lunchtime rush, especially the demand for their signature burgers, ensured her Friday was flying by.
Magda dumped a dish in the sink and moved next to Harper. The taller woman leaned over and scanned the baked treats.
“Good. You didn’t skimp on the sauce.” The chef’s sturdy face remained impassive.
“Magda, when would I ever skimp on caramel sauce?” Harper chuckled as the woman rolled her eyes. Poor Magda. She’d had to put up with Harper’s off-key singing. But thankfully, the ill-tempered chef had refrained from bonking Harper on the head with the closest heavy pan.
Must have been the macaroni and cheese with crispy bacon Harper had served her for a late lunch ten minutes ago. Who knew the bad-tempered Russian would be crazy for such an American comfort food classic.
The swinging doors whooshed open as Abby rushed in. The layers of tulle under her red and white polka dot skirt swayed around her legs. “You won’t believe who’s here.”
“Okay, I’ll bite.” Harper made big eyes at the barista. “Who?”
“The Aussie God.” Abby nodded at Harper’s smile. “And he’s got some sexy bearded dude with him.”
Joy bubbled up inside her. Seth said he’d drop in this afternoon before his trip tonight. Sounded like Zach came along, too.
Abby grinned at Harper. “And there’s a little—”
Magda cut off the younger woman and passed Harper. “Time for me to meet this Seth.”
Shit. “No need to rush these things.” Harper raced to catch up as her chef stopped near the coffee machine, leaving her caught behind.
And there he was, standing a few feet from the counter. Tall and gorgeous in an open necked navy shirt and charcoal gray dress pants. Zach stood beside him dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt with his hair once again in a ponytail.
Seth’s gaze locked on hers, and for a second, Harper forgot about any possible impeding confrontations, at least until Magda folded her arms across her chest, blocking part of Harper’s view.
“Seth.” She tried to keep the desperation out of her voice as she edged past Magda. “I’m so glad you came.” If she could just ease the big Russian back a bit...
“You’re Seth.” Magda planted herself at the counter in line with Seth, forcing Harper further down a few feet.
Damn.
“I am.” Seth stepped forward and offered his hand. “And you’re Magda. We’ve heard a lot about each other. Good to finally meet you.”
Open. Direct. Excellent move.
Magda stared at Seth. She wouldn’t refuse his handshake, would she? Seconds later, the Red-haired chef grabbed his hand, her knuckles turning white with her grip.
Harper’s gaze flew from Seth’s mild expression to Zach standing beside him. The big mountain man-slash-biker’s lips twitched as he watched the proceedings.
Seth leaned over the counter, his extended arm now bending at the elbow. His gaze never left Magda’s. “You’re one tough lady who’s looking out for Harper’s best interests. Message received and understood.”
Oh, wow. Her pulse did that skip-dancing thing that left her as giddy as a schoolgirl hearing the doorbell ring on her first date.
She studied Magda. Pale blue eyes the color of a Siberian glacier narrowed. “Good.” She dropped his hand and swept her gaze over Zach before frowning at Abby. “You didn’t tell us there was a little fairy.
Abby sighed. “I didn’t get the chance.”
Little fairy?
“Daddy, can I have a cupcake?” a child’s voice asked from somewhere near Zach.
Harper gave up trying to see past Magda and walked around the counter. As she reached Seth, he slid his hand into hers and kissed her quickly on the mouth.
“Are you Uncle Seth’s girlfriend?”
