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To him, I’m Amelia Johnson. And that’s all he gets to know.
It might seem silly to own a shop when I constantly have one foot out the door, but I didn’t care. I wanted something that was mine. I wanted to be my own boss. I never wanted to have to be told what to do again, and buying Sweet Temptations did that for me. I know I most likely won’t get to stay here much longer, but it was worth it.
I’m not really looking forward to Kansas. But it’s the next stop on my tour.
It may sound silly, but I’ve wanted to go there since I was a little girl, addicted to The Wizard of Oz. If there’s no place like home, how bad can it be?
I knew I needed to give Kroydon Hills a chance. If Mom loved it as much as her stories told me she did, I needed to know why. But if I didn’t love it here, Kansas was always my next move.
When I pull into the parking lot behind Sam’s restaurant, Nonna’s, I’m hot, hungry, tired, and, if I’m being honest with myself, more than a little scared. Judging by the number of cars, it’s a busy Saturday night at Nonna’s. Sam talks about this place a lot, the restaurant he named after his grandmother, but this is the first time he’s ever asked me to come here. He’s brought its namesake, his actual nonna, to my bakery a few times, and I absolutely adore her. But he’s never had me come here before.
When Sam called me earlier, he told me to park around back and knock on the kitchen door. He didn’t want me to come in through the front entrance of the building. He has an office next to the kitchen, and that’s where I’m supposed to go.
Two young guys dressed similarly in khaki pants and stained white button-down shirts are smoking next to a cracked door that’s letting the most heavenly and savory smells pass through its opening, ratcheting up my hunger about a thousand percent.
They both watch me like a mosquito they’d like to smack away as I approach them. “Hi.”
I wave at the two of them.
They continue to stare, unimpressed. Okay. So maybe I should have changed out of my cotton shorts and Sweet Temptations tank top, but I’d just gotten out of the shower, and it’s been freaking hot as Hades outside. “I’m here to see Sam.”
Bonehead Waiter One turns to Moron Waiter Two. “Does she actually think the boss is gonna give her the time of day?” His eyes linger a little too long on my tight tank. “I mean, I guess he might. But seriously?”
Moron laughs at Bonehead before letting his eyes travel up my body. “You and the rest of the world, babe.”
Just when I’m about to explode from the sheer stupidity displayed in front of me, the door opens fully, and Sam’s best friend, Dean, pops his head through the opening. Dean is with Sam at the bakery at least once a week. And he pops in with a few of his own crew too. He likes his coffee with a ton of sugar and loves to sample whatever new recipe I’ve tried that week while he flirts with my employees.
Sam takes everything seriously.
Dean... not so much.
“What the fuck, assholes? Let the lady in.” He smacks Bonehead on the back of his head as Moron backs out of reach. “Sorry about that, Amelia.” His arm extends out and moves the taller waiter aside. “Ignore these two. Come on in. Sam’s been waiting for you.” Dean’s a little shorter than Sam, but he’s just as broad. Maybe not as classically handsome, but there’s something magnetic about his personality. It’s easy to be drawn into his laughter and stories. I’ve only seen him get mad once in the two years he’s been stopping by my shop, and I was incredibly glad not to be the person on the other end of that phone call.
He reaches out and takes my arm, leading me through the back door and then pulling it shut. “Will they be able to get back in?” I ask, not sure if I truly care.
“Someone will let them in eventually. Come on. Sammy’s waiting.”
Dean maneuvers me through the industrial kitchen, past a walk-in freezer, and down a hall to Sam’s office. He knocks once on the door and waits for Sam to answer before entering and depositing me on the other side. “The dipshit Dalponi brothers were giving her a little bit of trouble when I found her.”
Sam’s pissed-off eyes snap to mine. “You okay?”
“She’s—” Dean starts to answer for me, but gets cut off by Sam.
“I was asking Amelia.”
Dean nods. “On that note, I’m gonna go make a few calls.”
He turns and leaves the two of us alone, and I waste absolutely no time getting down to business. “Why have I been summoned, Samuel?”
Sam closes his laptop and gives me his full attention. “Full-naming me already, Snow? It usually takes longer than two minutes for me to get on your nerves that badly.”
“You’re not annoying me, Sam. You’re scaring me. And we both know I don’t scare easily. Tell me what’s going on. Why am I here?” At some point during the course of our forced friendship, Sam became that person I can be completely honest with.
When I left Washington, I promised George I’d never make contact with him again. It was for my own good as much as it was to protect George and his family. But in doing so, I gave up the only people who truly knew me. Yes, I’ve let Annabelle in more than I thought I would, but that’s still not very far. When Sam confronted me about my past, it allowed me to be honest with someone in a way I hadn’t been in years.
I’m not sure why I did it, but I can’t say I regret it either.
I drop down onto the black leather couch behind me and wait Sam out.
