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“You mentioned the festival,” she says. “What’s the latest with that?”
I don’t miss the tone. She’s talking about Theo, but she’s too good of a friend to ask me that outright at this moment.
“Theo and I have to nail down some plans for the big dinner we’re in charge of. I wonder how Carl and Amanda did all of this and still managed to report the news. It’s a lot.”
“I’m here to help.” Camilla places a floured hand on my shoulder. “And Aria? If you need to take some time off to process, that’s great. You do what you need to do.”
“I’m fine.”
Camilla presses her lips together tightly before responding. “Glad to hear it. But you don’t have to be if you’re not.”
I laugh. “Relationally stunted? Terrified of marriage? Yeah. But I really am okay, I promise.”
And I am. Thoughts of Theo warm me, much like the blanket he gave me last night. It was a kind gesture. All of it was kind.
I get to work on the cheesecakes. I’ve started making five large ones each day, which are sliced into twelve pieces each. But we sell out of them every day now, so today I set out to make six. Camilla and I bake while Danene, Merre, and Elijah mind the register and work on order fulfillment.
As I bake, thoughts of Theo infiltrate my mind. I remember him leaning on his railing in the dark, trying to hide the fact that he was getting cold. I was too, but a part of me didn’t want our conversation to stop. I think he meant what he said, that he was sad for me. And that he wasn’t sad that Rob and I broke up.
It’s nearly noon when I’m finished. I grab a cheesecake for the bakery case and rotate my body around so I can open the swinging door.
The door stops prematurely just as I’m swiveling around to face the front. I smack into Theo’s chest, and the platter of cheesecake smashes against his shirt in an oomph.
We both gasp, and, seeing the destruction all over Theo, Merre and Danene shriek.
“Oh, no! I’ll get some paper towels,” Merre says, pushing past us to get into the kitchen. Camilla soon joins us, and Elijah laughs as he takes the paper towels from Merre and hands them to us.
Theo looks down at the cheesecake plastered against him. I stare at the mess. I’m frozen, one hand glued to my mouth, the other holding the platter. I have no idea what to do with it now.
“I am so sorry,” Theo says, peeling his shirt away from his skin. “I’ve ruined an entire cheesecake.”
I clear my voice and find my words. “No, it was my fault. I should have looked where I was going.” I gaze at the mess and my heart sinks. The cheesecake is toast, all eight pounds of it.
“Here, let me pay for it,” he says, wiping off his hands on a clean corner of his shirt before reaching for his wallet in his back pocket.
Merre hems and haws before pressing the wad of paper towels to his chest. He sets a couple of twenties on the counter before grabbing the paper towels from her.
“Thanks, but paper towels aren’t going to cut it. I’ll call Jesse and have him bring me a new shirt. I don’t have another client for forty-five minutes.”
“I’ll call him,” Camilla says. “You go clean up.” She glances at me. “Aria, help the poor man out.”
“Here,” I say, motioning to the back kitchen door. “There’s a bathroom over there.” We go past Camilla’s office and into the next small room.
Theo’s laugh reverberates against the walls of the tiny bathroom as he sees himself in the mirror. “I’m such a hot mess,” he says in a southern accent.
This man and his accents. He fans his face and then tries to slide bits and pieces of the cheesecake off the fabric of his shirt. “I wanted thisinmy belly, notonmy belly.”
I laugh and reach out a finger. “I hadn’t had a chance to taste it yet.” There’s a particularly heavy chunk and I swipe a bit of it off and lick my finger.
Theo watches me carefully. What am I doing? I turn to the sink and wash my hands, then as I’m drying them, I grab a bunch of extra paper towels and turn to face him. He’s looking down at his shirt, peeling cheesecake off it and eating it, too.
“You don’t have to do that. Here,” I say and try to hand him the towels. I could wipe his chest down myself, but that seems inappropriate.
He shakes his head. “I’m eating as much of this as I can. It’s amazing.”
The back of my throat burns with pride. “Is that why you came? To get a slice?”
“I came to see how you were doing.” He gives me a sideways glance. “How are you feeling today?”
