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Authors: J Q Anderson

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BOOK: Intercepted
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“I didn

t know you

d be here.” She stands on her toes and kisses me.

“Clearly,” I mutter.

She frowns. “What do you mean?”

I nod in the direction of the guy. “Making lots of new friends at work?”

She lets out an amused chuckle. “Excuse me?”

“Who was that?”

“Who was who?”

I raise an eyebrow. She does the same.

“Really, Jake?”

I press my mouth in a grim line. She has a point. I can

t claim stake without promising anything in
return. For the first time our agreement bites me in the ass. I run a hand
through my hair to shake off my ridiculous sense of territory. I realize this
is probably how she feels whenever my phone rings and it

s a client. I have no right to feel this way, but
the familiarity of her interaction with that prick still leaves a bitter taste
in my mouth.

“Do we have plans?” She says, and I am glad for the change of subject.

“Yeah. Pete and Syd

s house for
dinner.”

“Really?” Her face lights up and I can

t help the smile it brings to mine. “Syd didn

t say anything to me last night.”

I shrug. “I think it was last minute.”

I don’
t
say much as I drive us back to her apartment. I wait for her to shower and
dress, looking through the window at the approaching storm tinting the sky
gray. The whole time the only image occupying my mind is her reaching up and
kissing that fucker goodbye.

Chapter 27:
Natalia

 

I help Sydney with the last dinner preparations while the guys get the
barbecue ready and have drinks outside. Jake has been brooding ever since he picked
me up from work. I tell Sydney about the way he reacted at me walking out with
Charlie.

“Natalia, if I were you I wouldn

t even
acknowledge it. He has no right to throw a fit.”

“I know.” I look down at the veggies I

m chopping. “I have to put up with all those
women calling him. I wish he knew how much that hurts. I can

t even think about it, even after all this time.”

“Have you told him that?”

“No, Syd. I have no leg to stand on. Jake has never lied to me. He

s always been straightforward about what he does.
Besides if I bring it up, he

ll run.

“Natalia. If you want a future with Jake, you both have to get through
this hurdle. You need to tell him how you feel and he needs to fucking get over
his perpetual panic of commitment.”

“I just wish I understood why a normal relationship freaks him out so
much.”


Look, I

ve known Jake for a long time.
He

s always been that way. But it

s no excuse.
” She pours me a glass of wine and switches to a
lighter conversation about the latest happenings at the club. I am relieved
with the change of subject and finish my wine. She refills my glass, then picks
up her baby from her bouncy seat and slips her into the highchair to feed her.

“May I?” I ask, gesturing to the bowl and spoon she

s holding. Syd smiles and hands them to me.

I feed baby Mia while she smiles and tries to grab the spoon. Syd scoops
chopped mango on the tray of her chair and Mia squishes it as she brings it to
her mouth with a grin. She doesn

t want
any more of the vegetables I am feeding her, but when I pretend the spoon is an
airplane she

s engaged again and finishes
the whole thing.

“You are a pro, Natalia,” Sydney says. “You are invited for dinner every
night until Mia turns eighteen.”

Jake walks in and his eyes lock on me as I am wiping Mia

s face and kiss her little hands. His expression
stills for a moment and when our eyes meet his are guarded. Whatever his
problem is tonight, I don

t want any of
it. I am tired from the long weekend at work while Jake was away who knows
where with who knows who. I shake off the bitter thought and, ignoring Jake,
get up to finish setting the table.

Dinner with Syd and Pete rolls into the late hours. Jake and I really
enjoy spending time with them and it often diffuses the tension between us.
They are also my only friends in San Diego aside from the few people I met at
work. I like that Sydney knows Jake well and that there is a lot about him I
don

t have to explain to her.

Jake and Pete walk to the car as they finish their conversation. Syd hugs
me at the door, lingering a bit longer than usual.

“Be patient with him. He will come around. He

s just as stubborn as a goat. But I know you are
special to him, Natalia.”

I hug her again in response. When I look at Jake over her shoulder he is
watching us intently with that same guarded expression from before. What the
hell is his problem?

The ride in the car is quiet. I

m beat.
I have the day off tomorrow and am looking forward to sleeping in.

“What was going on between you and Sydney?” Jake says as he pulls into
traffic.

“Nothing. Why?”

“When she hugged you goodbye you looked…
I don’
t know. Upset.”

I shake my head. “I

m not upset,
Jake.” I am too tired to get into an argument and honestly, even more tired to
put up with whatever his reasons are to be so moody. I wish I had my own car.
Jake lives in Cardiff near Syd and Pete, but has to drive across town to take
me home. On nights like today, I don

t want
any favors from him.

“I

m going to rent a car,” I
mutter.

Jake frowns. “Why?”


I don’
t want to depend on you
for every place I have to go to. It

s not
fair.”


I don’
t mind.”

“Still. It will give me more independence. Especially on the days when
you are away.”

He stays quiet for a long pause, his eyes lost on the road.


I won

t be traveling for a while. You
don

t need to rent a car.”

This gets my attention. Is he cutting his hours at his
other
job?
Even after all this time I still can

t call
it what it is.
An
escort
, Natalia. Fancy word for whore.
I am dying to ask him what

s
changed. He

s been in a bad mood since he
came back.

“Jake, is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answers almost immediately. “Why wouldn

t it be?”

I shrug. “You are in a strange mood tonight.”

He eyes me speculatively and runs a hand through his hair.

“I

ve just got a lot of shit in my
mind, it

s all.” He doesn

t explain further and I know better than to ask.
These conversations between us always end in an argument about unreasonable
expectations.

He drops me off at home and kisses me briefly at the door. I don

t invite him to stay over and he doesn

t ask. I think we both need space tonight.

The next two days I am off, but Jake is teaching a water polo clinic at
Pete

s club, so I don

t see him. I spend my time visiting kitchen
emporiums with two girls from work. We stock up on utensils and other tools we
often use in the kitchen. I spend a large amount of my salary, but I am glad
with my new purchases. These are all things that will last me for years.

Pierre, the Executive Chef, selects me from within the interns to assist
him in plating entrees. This is great because I get to stay in the kitchen as
an apprentice and it temporarily excuses me from the next rotations on my
schedule. I work my ass off so he keeps me here and I don

t have to get anywhere around the pool.

Chef Pierre has been great to me and has become my mentor. He loves
learning about Argentina and my training at the culinary academy. As the week
ends, my prayers get answered and he asks me what rotations I have left at the
hotel. I tell him I have completed everything except the pool and, when I confess
to him that I am afraid of swimming, he tells the management he needs me in the
kitchen and next thing I know I

m
exempt. I almost hug him.

As the days advance Chef Pierre adds more tasks to my schedule. I accept
them gladly, eager to learn as much as I can. My ultimate dream is to work with
Chef Pierre on his pastries. He

s the
best in the city and the main reason why I wanted to do the internship at this
hotel. The rest of the interns seem a bit put-off by the favoritism. But in my
defense, I never complain about the long hours or the monotonous work he throws
my way.

I stay after hours so Chef Pierre can train me in-between shifts. There
is not much time for mistakes during the rush hours, so I use every minute he
gives me. All my energy is focused on work. I don

t see much of Jake that week except for dinner on
Sunday night. We are both tired and he spends the night at my apartment, so we
can at least fall asleep together.

The weeks that follow are busy. Jake is working full time at Double Post
and I am finally getting bits of pastry training from Chef Pierre.

The hotel will soon offer one of the interns a permanent position in the
staff. I have a good chance, I think, but so does Charlie. He and I have become
good friends. If someone can take this dream from me it is Charlie. He comes
from San Francisco and his training at the Culinary Academy has prepared him
well.

Charlie and I are in constant competition. We challenge each other and I
work harder than ever just to see the look of respect he gives me when I do
something that impresses him. To me, Charlie

s opinion matters as much as Pierre

s.

Jake doesn

t like
Charlie. He hasn

t come out and said that,
because that would mean Jake has to own up to an actual feeling, but he

s always in a bad mood if I walk out of work with
Charlie. On those nights, he stays quiet and most likely spends the night as
his place in sulky protest.

As the weeks advance, Jake is getting the hang of managing the shop and I
start getting more normal hours. The girls I met at the internship constantly
ask me to go out with them, but I

m always
with Jake. At work, people tease me about my imaginary boyfriend. Charlie has
seen Jake a few times and vouches for my sanity. I have told Charlie vaguely
about my relationship with Jake. It

s hard
not to talk about personal stuff when we spend so much time together at work.
Charlie and I usually take our breaks together and spend a long time talking.
He had a girlfriend, but they broke up because she said he didn

t have enough time off.

“It

s better this way,” Charlie
says, taking a bite of his sandwich. We are taking our lunch break on a bench
outside with a breathtaking view of the ocean.

“Did you love her?”


I don’
t know.” Charlie shrugs.
“What about you, Nat? You
in love
?” he teases me.

I nod. “I think so, but if I told him he would freak.”

“You
haven

t
told him?”


No. I don’
t know. After Marc I
didn

t want to make any plans with anyone. I just wasn

t ready.”


Then don

t make plans with anyone. But
don

t settle.”

I look up at him. Charlie doesn

t beat
around the bush. You always know exactly where he stands. Maybe that

s why he

s so
good at his job. He never hesitates when it comes to making a decision.

“Do you think I am a linguini-spine, door-mat, or whatever else you guys
call people that cannot put their foot down?”

Charlie laughs. “No. But once you figure out what you want, don

t wait around for this guy to bring it to you.
The way I see it, you either go for it, or are better off alone.”

“Jesus, Charlie. Way to put the bullet between the eyes.”

He winks at me, then scrunches up his trash and stands up. “Let

s go.”

 

Charlie

s words simmer in the back of
my mind all day. The following night I invite Jake for dinner at my place after
he closes Double Post. Jake loves it when I cook for him, which I don

t get to do a lot due to our miss-matched
schedules. For tonight I rolled home made pasta and sautéed scallops in a white
wine sauce. I am finishing the
Alfajores
for dessert as Jake walks in.

“Whatever that is, it smells amazing.” He smiles and saunters toward me,
then hugs me from behind and kisses my neck. I am rolling the
Dulce de Leche
filled cookie sandwiches onto shredded coconut
and both my hands are busy. His lips tickle my neck and I shiver.

“What are those?” he says over my shoulder. I love Jake

s enthusiasm when it comes to food. He

s always appreciative of whatever I make for him
and acts as if it

s the most amazing thing he

s ever tasted. I explain that the cookies are an
Argentinean staple and describe how I made them. He wants to try one and when I
feed it to him he closes his eyes.

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