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“I really hope you’ll come tonight,” Jasmine said.
Remy glanced at her sister-in-law. “Oh, yes! Please come. I’d love to hear more about your plans for the studio.”
“I’ll text you the address,” Jasmine added.
“Alright. Sure.” Mia agreed before saying goodbye and thanking Remy one more time for the coffee. She got into her car and took a bite of the lavender scone. An explosion of flavor filled her mouth. The floral essence of lavender mixed with the flaky sweetness of the scone. Seemed like the gluten-free pastries might just be better than she’d thought, much like the locals in this new town. She smiled and headed towards the grocery store.
***
Hours later, Mia placed the last polvorones on the plate and licked her finger clean of the powdered sugar. They were still warm—just the way she liked them. She slipped on a pair of flip-flops and walked over to her neighbor’s door and knocked. She waited patiently, nerves filling her belly as she carefully balanced the plate of cookies in her hands. It was important to have a good relationship with your new neighbors—and food was the way to everyone’s heart.
The pounding of footsteps came closer. A dark shadow passed behind the thick glass of the door just before it flew open. Her neighbor’s confused expression quickly morphed into one of anger.
What the fuck is his problem?
“H-hi. I’m Mia, your new neighbor. I thought I’d introduce myself.”
He towered over her, jaw clenched. His hands fisted at his sides as his eyes raked over her body. She was sure that was lust in his dark gaze, but the man also seemed livid just with her presence.
“I brought you some polvorones. You might have heard them called Mexican wedding cookies here.”
He stared at the plate, his jaw ticcing. More awkward silence.
“Um . . . did I do something to upset you?” she asked, her patience wearing thin.
Something hesitant flashed in his eyes, but then it was gone. “Stay the fuck away from me,” he growled just before slamming the door in her face.
She was too stunned to speak. What a complete asshole. The nerve of this guy. She’d tried to be friendly. No one turned down her mother’s recipe.
Oh well, at least now she’d have something to bring to the barbecue. She needed a reminder that there were some people in this town who were decent human beings.
One thing was for sure—her neighbor wasn’t one of them. And she’d be damned if she ever tried to be nice to him again. She’d just have to avoid him like the plague, neighbor or not.
