by K. M. Scott
What the hell has he heard about these cakes? Now he’s on a first-name basis with this guy too?
Robert walks away to check what they have, but he returns a few seconds later looking all long-faced. “I don’t see any. Let me check in the back to see if there’ll be any ready soon.”
“I’d love the chance to meet your pastry chef. I work as a chef at CK,” Alex says with a smile.
“Oh, I wish I could, but I can’t let anyone back there because she’s very particular about her work.”
Alex nods. “I completely understand. Trust me. I do. I wouldn’t want strangers loping through my kitchen either.”
“Let me go check to see what she has. I’ll be right back.”
After he walks away, I nudge Alex’s forearm. “So the pastry chef is particular? Here? Sounds like bullshit to me.”
“She’s an artist, Cade. You don’t fuck around with an artist’s area. I get it.”
“Well, I don’t. This sounds utterly pretentious. Dare I say, snobbish?”
Alex shakes his head. “You don’t get it. I do. She has a space where she creates things. Having people she doesn’t know in that space affects her.”
“Can we leave yet, or are we sticking around for some cake or pie we could get anywhere else on the damn planet? I have things to do.”
“You have nothing to do that can’t be pushed off for an hour more. Whoever she is, she can wait.”
That he assumes it’s a woman that’s making me want to leave here is a logical guess but an incorrect one. Since I don’t want to start a discussion about my love life, I sit back and let out a huff of disgust.
All of this for something that isn’t even a doughnut.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the kitchen doors open, and there in full view for me is the woman who’s been peering out the window at us for the last half hour. In her arms, she carries a tray of what look like cookies, but I barely waste a second studying them since she’s stunning.
Is this the famous pastry chef my cousin can’t talk enough about?
I barely get enough time to see she has light blond hair that goes to just below her shoulders and blue eyes. She looks like one of those stunning girls that hang out at the beach, not someone who spends her days in a kitchen.
When she sees I’m looking at her, she hurries back behind those doors, but now she doesn’t sneak any peeks out at me. Disappointed, I look across the table at Alex and see by the look on his face he noticed her too.
“Is that her? The person who makes the desserts?” I ask, suddenly curious about these tasty treats he can’t talk enough about.
“I don’t know, but damn, whoever she is, she’s gorgeous. I got the feeling she liked what you looked like,” he says with a chuckle.
“She’s been looking out at us the whole time we’ve been here. I figured she knew you from the restaurant. You know, since you both work in the same business.”
Shaking his head, he laughs again. “Trust me, if anyone who looked like that worked at CK, I’d know. Kane’s been doing the hiring for the past few months, and I swear to God the guy won’t even consider someone to work in the kitchen who doesn’t have ten years’ experience under their belt. That pretty much ensures everyone, male and female, is in their forties, at least.”
“Thank God for nepotism, right?” I say, taking this one opportunity to bust his balls.
He shrugs off my jab at how he got his job. “I guess, but that means I don’t get to work with anyone even close to my age.”
I look around for the mystery woman and don’t see her. “So what do you know about this pastry chef?”
“Suddenly interested?” he asks with a chuckle.
“I’m not dead, man. I’m just jaded and a snob, remember? But even someone like that can appreciate a woman that gorgeous.”
Robert returns a few moments later and blocks my view of the kitchen doors. “These are the creations for today. Hailey calls them lace cookies.”
He sets a plate with a cookie down in front of each of us. “I hope you enjoy them.”
I want to ask him more about this Hailey, but he hurries away before I can get a word out. Alex stares down in awe at the rectangle cookie that looks like white lace over a dark chocolate dough.
“Look at these scalloped edges and what she’s done with the icing. It looks like actual lace. What did I tell you? Artist. That’s the only word for the person who can create something like this. I need to get a picture of these.”
As much as I don’t usually go all crazy for cookies, I can’t disagree with what he’s saying. I’ve never seen anything that looks like this cookie in front of me. The icing truly does look like real lace, and not just some basic design. What look like delicate flowers and leaves made out of icing sit on top of this dark cookie, and I’m not even sure I should eat something so beautiful.
Alex doesn’t have that issue, though, and once he gets finished taking half a dozen pictures of his cookie, his hedonistic ways take over. With one bite, he looks like he’s in heaven. His eyes roll back in his head, making him look like he’s about to get off right here in the booth.
“It tastes even better than it looks, Cade. Holy fuck, you have to try this cookie. It’s chocolate but not like anything I’ve ever tasted before.”
Lifting it to my mouth to take a bite, I joke, “You going to be okay over there? We need to leave this place sometime soon, so try to tamp down the hard on you’ve got going on.”
One taste of that cookie when it hits my tongue and I know why he’s acting like he is. It’s delicious. Actually, that isn’t a good enough word for it, but I don’t know what would be good enough to explain how sweet and light it tastes at the same time.
When Robert returns wearing a hopeful look, I don’t give Alex a chance to talk and say, “I’d love to meet the person who made this. It’s incredible.”
Alex immediately joins in on the praise. “They are fantastic. From one chef to another, I’d be honored if we could tell her how wonderful we think they are.”
Robert seems to hesitate for a moment but then nods, giving us a smile like he’s proud of his pastry chef. “Okay. I’ll get her.”
The two of us wait, and Alex says in a low voice, “Try not to be your usual dick self. She might actually like you if you aren’t.”
Nice. My best friend thinks I’m a dick. And a snob.
I consider asking him what the hell that comment means, but before I can, Robert returns with the person I’m silently calling the woman of my dreams. A couple yards away before, she looked stunning. Up close, she’s even better.
Twice in the span of a few minutes, I don’t have the right word to describe something regarding her.
“Gentlemen, this is Hailey, my daughter. She’s the one who makes the wonderful desserts for our restaurant,” Robert says, beaming pride.
Hailey. At least now I officially know the name of the woman of my dreams. The problem is my dream woman isn’t even looking up at me. Not that she’s looking at Alex either. In fact, her gaze seems plastered to the floor.
“I’m Cade, and this is Alex. We loved what you made. It’s delicious.”
Finally, she lifts her head and gives me a tiny smile before glancing over at Alex. “My father told me you’re a chef and you loved the cookie? That’s so nice of you to say.”
Alex’s face lights up at her mention of his job. “I am, and I can say for certain I’ve never tasted anything as incredible from any of our pastry chefs at CK. Just don’t tell them I said that because they’ll never let me live that down.”
Unlike with me, Hailey gives him a big smile that shows off a beautiful mouth and white teeth. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”
She gives me a quick glance and then quietly says, “It was nice meeting you two. I have to get back to work now.”
And with that, she hurries into the kitchen and the last thing I see is the back of her right before the doors swing closed and she disappears. Ro
bert and Alex continue to talk about desserts and how talented Hailey is, but I can’t take my eyes off those kitchen doors, hoping for one more glimpse of her.
She doesn’t appear, though, and when her father walks away and Alex starts talking about how much the check is compared to how great the food was, I simply nod my agreement. I can’t think of anything but Hailey.
Is she cool like that with everyone? No, it’s obvious she isn’t. She didn’t act all chilly with Alex.
Is she just shy? Maybe. I can work with shy. Shy girls are some of the sexiest girls going.
Or is she just not interested? Or worse, interested in my best friend?
“Did you hear me? I said I’m going to pay the bill.”
Alex’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I give him a fake smile and nod again. “Yeah. I’ll be right there.”
Left alone, I look over at the kitchen doors one last time and see her face in the window. This time, she doesn’t immediately run and hide. I notice she doesn’t look over toward where Alex was sitting either.
When she gives me a tiny smile like she gave me before, I give her one in return. So she’s a shy girl. I can definitely work with that.
Chapter Three
Hailey
I hear my mother walk in through the back door of the restaurant and know she’s going to come right over to see what I’m making. She means well. Really, she does. It’s just that at this very moment the last thing on my mind are cookies.
Shaking my head, I try to push out the image of that guy. Cade. A guy that gorgeous has no business being in our restaurant. Either does his friend, especially since he works as a chef at the best restaurant in town, but I could tell by the way he was talking about the cookie he had that he really liked it.
“Hello, honey,” my mother says as she leans over my back to kiss my right cheek. “What do you have cooking today?”
It’s her way of being sweet and asking me how I’m doing. When I was little and Comfort Food was new, she would always say, “Hey, good looking! What you got cooking?” every time she came home from working here.
Back then, I loved when she said that to me. Now when she asks what I’m making, all I feel is anxious. I want these cookies to be as wonderful as they can be so my parents’ restaurant does better business, but so far, all they’ve attracted are over-the-top food bloggers who write long-winded posts that don’t get to the point until ten paragraphs in. I can’t imagine most people are that patient to wade through all that chatter to find out about my cookies, even if they do include pictures that make them appear even better than they do in person.
I look back at her and give a smile I know she needs to see. “Just a little lace cookie thing I wanted to try. Chocolate shortbread cookies with lace designs on top. Daddy already took them out to the case if you want to see them.”
Her blue eyes get big, lighting up at my description. “Oooooh, that sounds incredible! I’m going to go take a look right now. Do you need anything, honey?”
“No, I’m good, Mom. Thanks.”
Hearing I’m fine, she runs off to see my latest creations. I hope she doesn’t notice how empty the restaurant looks today and focuses only on the cookies.
No sooner does she leave to go out front, she returns with one of the cookies in her hand. “You could be working somewhere incredible, honey. That’s how good this is. I wish you’d consider it. Your talents are going to waste here at the diner.”
“I’m not interested, Mom. I do this because it makes me happy. I like working here with you and Daddy.”
She takes another bite and gives me a sigh like she’s in heaven with how good it tastes. “I know, but you’re young. You could be out working at somewhere great and meeting people instead of staying in this kitchen every day.”
I glance over at the cook at the grill and give him a smile. “I’m sure Hector loves to hear you say that.”
A hint of regret fills my mother’s eyes. “He knows what I mean.” Turning toward him, she yells across the kitchen, “You know I meant no harm, right, Hector?”
My mother couldn’t willingly hurt a soul, so he just nods and smiles. He has no interest in getting involved in this conversation. I don’t really want to have it either. It seems like lately, that’s all my mother wants to talk about with me.
Working somewhere great and meeting new people. I know what she means, even if she doesn’t say it.
She means meeting men.
My mother is nothing if not old-fashioned. The time period the diner is meant to simulate would have fit her perfectly. That she was born long after the fifties always amazes me, especially when she gets talking about how I should find a nice young man and settle down.
Settle down? I’m twenty-four, for God’s sake.
“Did you hear anything I said, Hailey?” she asks, pulling me from the thought of my life ending before it actually gets started.
I sheepishly shake my head. “No, sorry. I was off in my own head thinking about this macaroon I might want to make,” I lie.
“Oh, that sounds delightful. Now as to what I was saying.”
Damn. I hoped the macaroon idea would have changed the subject. No such luck.
“What do you think about the young men your father told me he introduced you to today?” she asks, hope filling her eyes like it always does when she mentions me meeting that elusive fine young man she wishes for me.
“You sure did get a lot of talking done in the few seconds you were out front, Mom,” I say as I begin to set up my area to make some more desserts, already so done with this conversation about those guys from earlier.
Should it be cookies or something else? I saw a lemon tartelette that could be great for a beautiful spring day. Do I have what I need? If not, I’ll happily run out so I don’t have to stay here in this kitchen and talk about this subject that seems so top of mind for my mother.
“He called me on the phone and told me. Now what did you think of them? He said they raved about today’s cookie. He also said they both seemed to be very nice men. What did he say their names were? I can’t remember the one, but I think he said the one who’s also a chef is named Alex. You two would have a lot in common, Hailey. Did you like him?”
I struggle against my nature to tell her Cade’s name because I know if I do, she’s going to read something into the fact that I remember it when that means nothing. I remember everything. She knows that. She used to joke that I had a mind like a steel trap, but I know if I even mutter his name, she’s going to make it something it isn’t.
So I just shrug like none of what happened earlier made any impression on me whatsoever. “They were like any other two guys, Mom. How do you and Dad know they aren’t gay? They came in together and I saw them talking and it looked like they were bickering. I’m sorry to tell you, but that might mean they’re both taken.”
The mere thought that those two handsome young men who would be perfect for me could be gay stops my mother for a long moment, and she stands in front of my dough table with her mouth hanging open. It’s like her mind is processing the likelihood that those two fine specimens she’d already had me choosing between could possibly not be available, and with every second that passes, she hates the idea more and more. Her expression morphs from one of shock to one of utter unhappiness.
“Well, your father thought they might be brothers since they resembled one another,” she says, practically snapping at me for ruining her fantasy.
They did look alike. Both had dark brown hair and brown eyes, and they did both have tattoos up and down their arms. It never occurred to me they could be brothers, though, but in all honesty, I only paid attention to the one named Cade, especially once I found out Alex is a chef at a five star restaurant.
I’m not a chef, by any stretch of the imagination, so being around someone who actually is instantly makes me feel self-conscious. A chef at the best restaurant in town? I couldn’t have focused on him if I wanted to.
“Well, I have n
o idea, Mom. It’s not like we had a deep conversation or anything. They liked the cookie and told me so. I thanked them and came back here to do work. That was it. If Daddy made it out to be anything else, then he was seeing something I wasn’t.”
My mother’s five foot five body seems to deflate right in front of me at my disinterest in Cade and Alex. “Oh. I just thought since they came in and they were young like you that you might have wanted to get to know them. It’s not every day young men come into the diner here, Hailey.”
“Sorry. I didn’t have my man-hunting thing going on today. Maybe if they come in again.”
She grimaces, twisting her face into a disapproving scowl. “You know, honey, it’s no crime to like people. You’re a beautiful young woman who shouldn’t think she should spend all her time hiding away in a kitchen. When opportunity knocks, you want to make sure to answer that door.”
I grab the rolling pin from the rack next to me and drop it onto my table. It makes a loud thud that startles my mother.
“Oh, my God, Mom! Opportunity did not knock just because two good looking men came into this restaurant. I don’t care if one is a chef or not, and just because he works around food doesn’t make us have anything in common. I’m not a chef! There is no comparison to what he does and what I do here. As for the other one, I didn’t even catch his name, so I’m sorry to disappoint you, but this episode of Set Up Your Daughter With Hot Strangers has come to an end.”
Instantly, I see in her eyes that I’ve hurt her feelings. Frowning, she gives me a nod and silently turns to leave the kitchen as regret fills me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Well, I did, but not that way, Mom.”
Without turning around, she nods again. “It’s fine, honey. I’m just going to go out front and see how things were this afternoon.”
Every word sounds sadder than the last, so by the time she gets to the end of her sentence, I think I hear a tiny sob. Nice going. First, I’m my usual backward self with those two guys, and then I’m my other usual self, the defensive one, with my mother.