Year of Living Blonde (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 1) (4 page)

“Hey, Nat, are you okay?” Lindsay turns the music down and comes over to where Natalie is now sitting on the floor.

“I can’t believe he left me. I thought we’d grow old together. I really did.”

“I know.”

Natalie stares down at her hands. They’re covered with various burn scars from years of working around hot ovens. Her forearms have them, too. “I guess he’ll grow old with
her
now, though it sounds like she already
is
old!” She looks up at Lindsay. “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“But why did he leave?”

“Because Peter’s an ass clown.”

Natalie laughs despite herself. “What the heck is that? Where do you even get this stuff?”

“It’s someone whose idiocy goes beyond being merely an ass or a clown. He’s both.”

“You just don’t like Peter. You never have.”

“True, but why do you think that is? You’re too good for him. He treats you like you’re his mother. He’s not enough man for you.”

“What is that supposed to mean? And besides, if it wasn’t for Peter, I wouldn’t have Chloe.”

Lindsay’s face softens. She loves Chloe as much as Natalie, if that’s possible. “Yeah, I sure miss that girl. I understand why she’s at camp, since she loves horses so much, but why does she have to visit those people?”

“
Those people
are her grandparents and I think it’s great how she has a relationship with them.”

Lindsay leans back against the sofa and closes her eyes, already bored with this conversation. “Whatever.”

“It’s good for her.”

“I’m sure it is.” She suddenly opens her brown eyes and studies Natalie with interest.

Natalie looks at her. “What?”

“You know what. Have you?”

Lindsay knows her so well. She shakes her head. “No.”

“Nothing? Not even a single drop?”

“Not one tear.”

Lindsay raises an eyebrow.

“You know it doesn’t mean anything. I haven’t cried since I was a kid, so it’s no great shock that I’m not crying now.”

“Yeah, right.” Lindsay gets up and saunters toward the kitchen. “Hmm, now where’s that wine? This second bottle isn’t half-bad and I believe it’s time for a refill. What do you say?”

Natalie thinks of Peter’s face and feels a dark satisfaction at how angry he’ll be when he finds out she and Lindsay have been drinking his precious wine. “I’d love another glass.”

AFTER BAKING THE
next morning, Natalie loads everything into the back of her van. She woke up with a hangover and feeling as if she’d been hit in the head with a bottle of wine instead of drinking one. The axe was still hanging from her front door. Lindsay wanted to call 911 last night and get some “hot firefighter guys” to come help, but luckily, Natalie managed to wrestle the phone out of her hands.

As the day drags on, Natalie alternates between water and coffee until three thirty. Thankfully, the bakery closes to customers at four. She pulls the last of the rosemary loaves out of the oven and finally sits down. Her headache from that morning is back. The aroma of fresh bread smells delicious, though—hot and yeasty, and after slathering a piece with butter, tastes divine.

Between the wine hangover and the emotional hangover, she’s never been this tired in her life. As she closes her eyes and chews, she suddenly hears Carlos come into the kitchen.

“Thank God, you’re still here! Espresso Breve just came in and wants to order a cake. He asked to speak with a baker.”

Natalie swallows and looks at him. “Espresso Breve?”

Carlos nods.

“Can you just ask Blair to help him?”

“Blair isn’t here. You’re the only one left.”

Natalie frowns and looks around. She’d been so deep in thought she hadn’t even noticed everyone had left for the day. It’s Monday, though, and she typically closed on Mondays.

She puts the piece of bread she’s eating back down and wipes her hands on her white apron. “I’ll go out there. Just give me a second.”

“Sure,” Carlos says. And just as he’s about to turn away, he surprises her by putting his hand on her shoulder. “Listen, I don’t mean to intrude in your business, but I couldn’t help overhearing you talk. If you need my help for anything, all you have to do is ask, okay?”

Natalie is touched. “Thank you, Carlos. I really appreciate that.”

He smiles. “I’m going to go buss the tables in front and then start shutting down the espresso machine.”

“Sounds good. Also, the guy from Santosa’s Bistro should be here soon to pick up the bread.”

After he leaves, Natalie takes a deep breath and tries to gather herself. She really doesn’t want to deal with this, but there’s nothing else to do. There’s a small mirror by the back door and Natalie walks over to it.

Yikes.
She looks frightening. Those dark circles haven’t gotten any better and her eyes are still bloodshot.
I look like the Queen of the Undead. Maybe I should have worn concealer.
She never wears makeup though, especially at work, since it melts right off.

Reaching up, Natalie straightens the red bandanna she’s tied on her head to keep stray hairs back. Unfortunately, she only makes things worse as some of the gray ones start popping out in front like wiry antennae. She sighs and drops her hands.
I’m an exhausted, sweaty mess and there isn’t much I can do about it.

When she gets to the door leading into the front area of the bakery, she stops and peeks through the window.

Espresso Breve is out there, all right. She can see his dark head bent down as he studies their pastry case. He’s wearing a black motorcycle jacket with a white stripe running down each arm and across the zipper. It looks fantastic on him. He’s carrying a black helmet at his side. Natalie can also see the strap for his leather satchel running crossways over his muscular chest where the jacket is open. They’ve all theorized about the type of work Espresso Breve does, but none of them can figure it out. He’s too handsome. The only jobs, which seem to fit are model and movie star.

Natalie braces herself, pushes through the door, and marches to the counter, preparing to do her duty.

“Can I help you?” she asks as she plasters a fake smile on her face.

But then Espresso Breve looks up and Natalie’s smile falters. Her road map flies out the window. She’s lost.

Very lost.

First of all, his eyes aren’t at all what she expects. They’re a sensual brown and remind her of dark chocolate—her favorite kind.
Callebaut? No, more like Valrhona.
Rich, but with a complexity that doesn’t reveal itself right away.

And when he speaks his voice is low and smooth,
like caramel made with the heaviest cream.

As she tries to think of a good food description for his mouth, she suddenly realizes his mouth is moving.

“Uh . . . what was that?” Natalie asks.

“I asked if you had a book I could look through.”

“A book?” With unease, she realizes that she’s been tuned out of this conversation way too long.

“Yes, a book of your cake designs.” He’s eyeing her strangely.

“Oh, sure, you want . . . the book.”

Espresso Breve peers behind her toward the swinging door leading to the back. “Listen, is there someone else I could talk to? A baker, or one of the owners, maybe?”

“Sure. No! I mean—”

“It’s okay. You’re new here, aren’t you?” Espresso Breve speaks in a patient voice. And she sees that his eyes aren’t just sensual, they’re kind. It’s something she wouldn’t have guessed about him. “Go ahead and find your manager. I’ll wait.”

Natalie’s face burns with embarrassment. She can’t remember the last time a man got her this flustered. In fact, she’s sure it’s never happened.

In desperation, her eyes search for Carlos as if he were a life raft. Natalie knows she needs to take control of this situation and explain to Espresso Breve that she is, in fact, one of the owners.

“On second thought, why don’t I just come back tomorrow?” He’s studying his phone. “I think I’ll have time in the afternoon.” Then before she knows it, he’s gone. The front door jingles as it closes behind him.

Natalie stands very still, staring at the spot he inhabited. Her body feels strange, as if she isn’t inside it anymore.

Her embarrassment has taken her to a Zen place.

Groaning, she rips the bandanna off her head and pushes her way back into the kitchen.
How could I let some hot guy get to me like that?

She tries to put it out of her mind as she begins closing. He’s probably used to it, women making fools of themselves.
Though the thought makes her feel even worse.

Checking the ovens are off, she can’t shake her embarrassment.
Get a grip.
She opens the fridge and sees the croissant dough is ready for tomorrow. She runs down the list of things they’re getting low on and adds a few more items.

When Carlos tells her he’s headed out, she manages a weak smile. “Take a loaf of rosemary bread with you.”

Finally, she leaves and gets into her van. The incident with Espresso Breve replays itself on the ride home, along with a fresh wave of embarrassment.

Pulling up to the house, she sees Lindsay’s red MINI Cooper is still parked in her driveway. Then just as she wonders if this day could get any worse, she realizes it’s about to get a whole lot worse. The MINI isn’t the only car parked there.

Peter’s black Lexus is sitting right behind it.

It’s a shock to see Peter standing in the entryway. Then she notices that standing beside him and still carrying a backpack is Chloe.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Natalie hugs her daughter. Immediately, she’s surrounded by Chloe’s familiar citrus shampoo smell.

“Hi, Mom.” Chloe grins when they pull apart.

“I didn’t know you were coming back today. I thought you were staying with Grandma and Grandpa.”

“Daddy picked me up early. I guess it’s not a good time right now.”

“Oh? Is everything okay?” She looks up at Peter.

“It’s fine,” he says in a tight voice.

Natalie’s eyes stay on Peter. Part of her is glad he’s here, but the other part is overwhelmed by a sense of betrayal. It’s only been a week, but it feels longer. In fact, he even looks different to her.

Peter meets Natalie’s gaze, but quickly looks away.

Is he still with her?
Glancing at Chloe, she wonders what he’s told her. Chloe doesn’t seem upset, so he probably hasn’t said anything.

Does that mean there’s still hope?

Lindsay makes an appearance, walking into the living room wearing the same jeans from last night. She’s borrowed one of Natalie’s shirts and, even though it’s too large, Lindsay makes it look stylish. Her hair is wet and it’s obvious she’s just taken a shower.

Natalie quickly scans the house and unfortunately, the place is still a mess. There are half-eaten plates of food and empty bottles of wine. It doesn’t look like her sister had a chance to clean up anything. In fact, she probably just woke up, not that Natalie can blame her, if she’d been able to sleep in today, she certainly would have.

“Aunt Lindsay!” Chloe squeals and drops her backpack, as she runs over.

“Hey, Girlie-Whirly!” Lindsay says as the two of them hug and jump up and down with excitement at seeing each other.