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“Go away. I have recipes to plan.” I playfully shoved her toward the door. She pretended to stumble, accidentally running into the ottoman. When it scraped across the floor, both of us froze.
For a few seconds, neither of us breathed, but Ella didn’t even stir. I wiped my hand across my brow. Baker gave me a finger wave and snuck out of my room.
The door closed with a soft click, and my daughter woke with a wail. I scooped her into my arms, softly singing as I rocked her.
When she quieted, I told her the good news. Ella gurgled her approval. I confessed my worry that I’d blow it and never have another chance like that. She punched up into the air like it was some sort of way of showing she believed in me. That was all the encouragement I needed.
I laid her back down in her crib and set to work reformulating some of my cake recipes into mini-versions. There were plenty of people to test them, but my customers at the food truck would work too.
I tapped the eraser end of my pencil against my lower lip. Visions of a rumpled Andrew Dixon popped into my head. His hair was a mess, shirt and suit wrinkled. I’d been so incensed when I saw him.Had he just been screwing another woman and then came to me with smiles and wit?I’d felt . . . disgusted. And then . . . angry. All men were the same. But then a very foreign and extremely implausible idea floated across my mind.Maybe he wasn’t like every other man.Maybe my anger at him wasn’t justified. Maybe it had been work that had kept him away . . . but should I trust him? Sonya had an excellent bullshit radar, and she’d liked him on the spot. I wasn’t at a point where I trusted my own intuition, but was I unforgiving for no real reason?
I loved his crimson tie with the tiny white elephants printed all over it. Tomorrow, I’d try red velvet mini-cakes with cream cheese icing. Maybe when I had a second off, Ella and I could find some sugar elephants to decorate them. I wasn’t thinking outside the box, but inspired baking was more important than trying to be different. If Andrew showed up again, he’d know it was my way of forgiving him for not coming around. Seemed to me a better way of saying he wasn’t on my shit list anymore.
There was a shop not too far away that specialized in things like that. I’d make time to check it out in the morning before I opened for lunch.
For an afternoon and evening spent with my stomach in a ball of nerves, something positive had happened, and the knot finally loosened.
Chapter Eleven
Andrew
“Hey.It’s me again. The creep who followed you yesterday.”
No. I couldn’t say that. I was never going to admit what I’d done to her. At least, not until I was sure she was comfortable enough with me not to write me off forever.
I glanced at my watch. Nearly five fifteen. We’d closed on a quarter of the properties for my client today. Twenty minutes ago, I was shifting in my seat to the point that Victor asked me about it. I lied and said I wasn’t feeling all that great. He’d cursed, and we’d called it a day after finishing up the property we were on.
I pointed out we were ahead of schedule, which earned me a glare, and then I hustled out the door to see Trish. I was shifty now for a different reason. Earlier, I was afraid I wouldn’t make it to see her. Now, I was nervous about the prospect of seeing her again.
When I neared where her truck was parked, an old man I’d know anywhere was propped against a tree. He wasn’t that old, but I loved to give him a hard time about it.
“Hey, Dad. Thanks for meeting me.” I pulled him in for a hug.
“You must want something. You didn’t call me an old man.” His arms tightened around my back.
“Day’s not over yet.” I clapped his shoulder and pointed my chin toward Trish’s food truck. “Ready for this?”
“I already ate here once today. Figured you inviting me was a good enough excuse to come back.”
“I doubt you need an excuse. I’m sure Trish is happy to see you anytime.”
My father stopped moving. I paused to find him studying me. “Trish, huh?”
“Yeah. Come on. Don’t act like you don’t know her name.” I left him behind to get in line. There were only a couple of people in front of us.
Trish’s angel face was in the window, laughing at something her customer had said. The sound floated over to me, warmth spreading through my chest. I craned my neck, just to see if I could hear it again.
“You’re staring,” my father said into my ear.
I jumped, spinning to face him. “You trying to give me a heart attack?”
“Nope. ThinkTrishmight have already done it.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, putting his weight on his good hip.
“I like her—”
Dad tutted at me before I could finish. “Think we better leave it at that, son. It’s one thing not to divulge the truth and completely another to flat-out lie. Even to yourself.”
“You see too much, old man,” I muttered.
