by Jayci Lee
“Yes, Aria. It’ll be great if you can get to the point.”
“Shut up. If you don’t behave, I’m going to start all over.”
Landon sighed, both amused and exasperated. “Do you like it or not?”
“I love it. It is perfection.” Her Italian accent, which was nothing more than a melodic lilt in her voice, grew a shade thicker when she was emotional. “I can’t wait to start filming.”
“That’s fantastic,” he said with a genuine smile. Aria had a keen eye for television, which was one of the reasons she rose to the highest ranks of celebrity chefdom. If she approved of the location for her wine country special, then it meant her audience would love it. “I’m glad you like it.”
But his happiness for his friend reminded him of another talented chef who might never get a chance to shine. An image of Aubrey, sitting in a dark, empty bakery, flashed through his mind, and his stomach lurched. For God’s sake, Kim. She’s not destitute.
“What’s going on?” A new sharpness entered Aria’s voice. “Tell me before you break down and wail like a baby.”
In another lifetime, he and Aria had interned at a world-renowned kitchen in Madrid—a wonderland of gastronomical research and food science. Each of them, something of a prodigy in their respective culinary institutions, had tied for first in an international cooking competition. The coveted three-month summer internship was extended to both of them. They worked grueling hours, gluttonously absorbed everything their brains could contain, and became rivals and then friends without conscious effort.
Considering their long friendship and Aria’s uncanny ability to read people, there was no point pretending nothing was wrong.
“Have you read my last review? ‘The Pitfalls of Brilliance’?”
“The one about your near-death experience from a gummy worm?”
“Yes, that one. Well, it turns out they’d accidentally served a special-order cake to me. It was meant for a six-year-old girl’s birthday party.”
“Well, that’s a shame, but you stayed true to your personal experience. Serving the wrong cake shows they have issues with their service.”
“Thanks for supporting me, but I shouldn’t have passed judgment on the bakery after a single sampling. They made one mistake, and I basically shut them down for it.” Landon gave her the short version of his dilemma, leaving out the night with Aubrey. “She doesn’t deserve to lose her business over a common mistake her high school part-timer made.”
“That’s one hell of a mess.”
“You think?”
“I do,” Aria said sweetly. “So tell me the rest.”
“What?” Damn. She was like a bloodhound when it came to sniffing out trouble.
“It’s a terrible shame your review is having such a devastating effect on her business. The timing couldn’t be worse for her. I get all that.” She paused before she went for the kill. “But that doesn’t explain why you sound like your world is going to hell. Who is she?”
“I ran into her at a bar in Weldon the day I got stranded.” He sighed in resignation. He had to come clean if he wanted her help. Besides, it would help her to see the whole picture. “I had no idea she was the owner of Comfort Zone, and she didn’t recognize me. Something just drew me to her. She was special, and we connected.”
“Oh, my.” The beginnings of real concern entered her voice.
“We spent the night together.” He sounded wistful, and Aria sighed long and loud. “It was meant to be a one-night thing, but when I found her gone the next morning, I was … disappointed. We didn’t even exchange phone numbers, but I wanted to see her again.”
“Have you seen her since?”
“I probably would’ve gone looking for her after my trip to Asia, but I found out my Aubrey was one and the same as Comfort Zone’s Aubrey Choi as soon as I got back. So, no. I haven’t seen her since.” Landon massaged the back of his neck. “Besides, there’s no way she would want to see me after this fiasco.”
“So, to recap, you want to set things right, but you don’t want to bring attention to the whole situation because people might discover you slept with her. Plus, you don’t want her to hate you. Does that sound about right?”
“Bloody, fucking hell.” How had he messed up so badly?
“I take that as a yes. Well, I may have just the right solution for your mess.”
4
The bell above the shop door trilled cheerfully as the man of her nightmares strode into Comfort Zone.
“You.” All the shock, hurt, fear, and devastation of the past months saturated the single word. “Get out.”
“Hello, Aubrey.” His unflinching gaze cut into her like chips of onyx, but she willed herself not to glance away.
“Get. Out,” she snarled through gritted teeth.
How dare he come here! He and his magazine had ignored the pleas of her townspeople, as well as her own, for over a frigging month. She didn’t know when he’d learned who she was, but he had to have known after her first twenty emails to his editor. They had a one-night stand, which didn’t mean he owed her anything, but what they shared hadn’t meant nothing. Didn’t he have any regrets about his review? Not even when he realized the cake mix-up was a mistake?
And now, there he stood, looking irresistibly sexy in her dying bakery. After everything he’d done, did he want to frame her for murder as well? The bakery was empty, so there would be no witnesses. It was tempting. Much too tempting.
Her outrage multiplied when his eyes swept across her neck, chest, and the length of her legs, reminding her he’d touched every inch of her that night. Heat spread through her treacherous body, and humiliation followed in its wake. Standing on the brink of losing her dream, she still wanted the man.
“I’m not here to resume our affair, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“What?” she whispered in disbelief, her mortification mounting. “What?”
She clapped her mouth shut and stood shaking with helpless rage. Silence was infinitesimally more dignified than screeching like a banshee. Resume our affair? Even if he draped himself across her bed in all his nude glory, she wouldn’t so much as nudge him with her toes. Gah. She was determined to hate him, but the thought of him naked on her bed stalled her brain.
Her chance for a clever retort lost, Aubrey watched Landon through narrowed eyes as he perused her shop. He absently ran his hand over a leather chair and then paused in front of a photo on the wall. One of her favorites. A handful of her regulars were piled onto a single love seat, laughing themselves to tears. She fought the impulse to throw herself in front of it. Landon Kim didn’t deserve their smiles.
He strolled to another set of pictures, his hands loosely clasped behind his back. Despite his relaxed posture, he permeated the shop with nervous energy, and his silence filled her with unease. Whatever he was there to do, he needed to do it and leave. His presence confused and hurt her.
“Do you often revisit the restaurants you’ve ruined?”
“I fucked up.” She startled when he spoke from the other end of the shop. “That cake was beyond weird and a potential health hazard, but it was careless and unprofessional of me to write a review based on a single sample. I don’t do careless and unprofessional. That’s not the way I work. Usually.”
“Do you want me to absolve you of your sins?” It had probably taken him a few hours to write the review that destroyed what she’d built in four years. Comfort Zone wasn’t just a bakery to her. It was her home, her dream, and her freedom. Hot tears burned behind her lids, and she bit her lip till she tasted blood. If she cried in front of him, the last scrap of her pride would burn to cinders. “Come see me when you and I are the only survivors in a postapocalyptic, zombie-infested world. Maybe then … may-be. Who am I kidding? You can go straight to hell.”
“I’m not here to apologize.” He dragged a hand through his hair, showing signs of frayed nerves. “And I can’t write a second review.”
“Can’t or w
on’t?” Aubrey slumped into a chair, suddenly too tired to give a fuck.
“Won’t.” A hint of remorse flickered in his eyes. “Did you know who I was when you slept with me?”
She listened to her breath whooshing in and out, dumbstruck once more. Too bewildered to filter her thoughts, she said, “No, I did not know who the bloody hell you were. What the fuck are you implying?”
“I had to ask.” His long, thick lashes fluttered like the wings of a moth who’d strayed too close to the fire. “I had to be sure you didn’t sleep with me to extort a good review.”
“I slept with you for a good review? Are you out of your mind?” She shot out of her seat and reached him in a single, rage-fueled bound—close enough to spit on his handsome, arrogant mug. “News flash, asshole. You didn’t give me a good review.”
“Will you listen?” He leaned in so close that she had to tilt her head back to continue glaring at him. “I had to ask. I needed to be certain before I could help you.”
“Help me? You. Ruined. Me.” Grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, she jerked him in time with each word. But she was the only one who rocked back and forth, while he stood like a stone wall. She roared with frustration. “You wrote a review that destroyed my life. Just how did I benefit from sleeping with you?”
“You didn’t.” He raked his fingers through his hair, looking pained. “You said you didn’t sleep with me for a good review, and I believe you.”
“How very kind of you to acknowledge that. Now, turn around. Walk through that door. Disappear.” She released his shirt and shoved him toward the entrance, putting her weight into it. He stumbled back a step. “You are done insulting me.”
The cautious vulnerability that entered his eyes stopped her from knocking him across the head. The man was hopeless—a cynic and a clueless idiot—but she could tell he’d been used that way before. Well, tough shit. He was still an asshole.
“But the fact is we did sleep together,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “If I write a favorable second review and someone finds out about that night, our reputations will be wrecked beyond repair. No one will believe it was a coincidence.”
“How will anyone find out?”
“Writing an unprecedented second review alone will raise suspicions. And…” He cringed a little, the tip of his ears turning pink. “And I’ve had some paparazzi ambushing me lately. They seem overly interested in my private life.”
“Is this about you being one of the most eligible bachelors of the year? Oh, my God. It is.” She had to choose a celebrity food critic and most eligible bachelor to have a one-night-stand with. What shitty luck. “Can’t we just deny it? I don’t think anyone has proof that we slept together, right?”
“And we don’t have any proof that we didn’t sleep together. It’s impossible to prove a negative. Besides, we did sleep together.” He threw his hands up in frustration. “Gossip spreads like wildfire on social media and gossip sites. Unfortunately, celebrity gossip is presumed true until proven false. We won’t be able to convince anyone otherwise until it’s too late to salvage our reputations.”
Exhausted, Aubrey sat down once again. She understood the logic in his decision, but it changed nothing. “Just tell me why you’re here, then leave.”
“I’m here to make things right.” Any sign of regret, doubt, or vulnerability had disappeared, and his voice rang with steely determination. “You’re not going to lose Comfort Zone. Not without a fight.”
“I’m not? How?” She couldn’t feel her lips move. She reversed her posture and straddled the high-backed chair before she slid to the floor. He was going to write a second review after all.
“I tasted one of your other menu items, and I was blown away by it.” Landon ran his hand down his face.
“When?”
The fluttering in her stomach was not happiness. She didn’t care what he thought of her baking. She was supposed to hate him. He’d implied she’d seduced him for a good review. But her indignation wavered when she remembered the flash of worry and vulnerability in his eyes. It was still a dick move.
“Lily came to my office with your pretzel bread pudding. She said she was the one who’d made the mistake and begged for a second review. The kid really looks up to you.”
“Oh, Lily.” Her hand flew to her mouth, and she blinked away sudden tears. “I can’t believe she did that for me.”
“If all goes well with my business proposal, you could give her a big, fat raise.”
“Your business proposal?” Confusion and curiosity interrupted her attempt to radiate hostility.
“I want you to guest star on my friend’s cooking show,” he said in a low voice, studying her intently.
“A cooking show? On television?” She sounded dumb, but her wit had gone on leave without notice.
“That’s the usual medium for a cooking show nowadays.” His tone was dry, but his eyes twinkled with amusement.
Great. Now he’s laughing at me. “I’ve never been on TV. I don’t even watch TV. I wouldn’t know what to do or say. I’m going to make a fool of myself.” Aubrey clamped a hand over her mouth and breathed noisily through her nose.
“No, you won’t. If it makes you feel any better, it’ll be filmed on a closed set, so you won’t have a live audience.” A corner of his mouth quirked upward. It wasn’t a full-blown smile, but it was enough to make his dimple wink at her. That dimple was the root cause of her predicament. Darth Dimple. Dimple of Doom. Count Dimpula. Oh, shit. He’s still talking. “—and the writers and directors are there to make sure everything goes smoothly. Besides, Aria would never let her guest chef look foolish on her show.”
“Aria? As in Aria Santini?”
Aria was America’s favorite celebrity chef, known for her simple, delicious Italian dishes that viewers could actually make at home. Aubrey owned every one of her cookbooks and had even watched a few of her YouTube videos. She was stunning—a tall, statuesque brunette with warm, brown eyes—and an amateur mezzo-soprano on the side. Almost too perfect to be real.
“Yes, that Aria. She’s an amazing chef and a cooking show veteran. You’ll be in good hands.”
“And she’s your friend?” Aubrey couldn’t believe it. Aria seemed so sweet and Landon was so … not.
“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” Landon arched a sardonic brow as though he’d read her thought bubble. “We’ve been friends for close to a decade.”
Plenty of time for him to have tainted her. He’d probably turned Aria into a diva from hell to complement his arrogant bastard image. And he wanted Aubrey to be on her show? She didn’t want anything to do with Landon Kim or his BFF. But he was offering his help, and she had a chance to save Comfort Zone.
Is my pride worth more than my dreams?
* * *
The blood had drained out of Aubrey’s face when Landon brought up Aria. When his friend had explained the plan, she’d instructed him to mention it was her show. She’d hinted it would be a big selling point. He’d given her grief for her narcissism, but he’d secretly agreed with her. Most young chefs would kill for an opportunity to work with Aria Santini. But he also understood how intimidating it could be.
“The exposure you get on TV will be worth a hundred restaurant reviews. And you’ll be well compensated. You could continue with the move and have the new location renovated while you’re filming in the Central Coast.”
Suddenly, he was desperate for Aubrey to accept his offer. He could help her, and it would fix the whole mess and maybe erase the haunted expression from her face.
“How do you know about the move?” She studied him with narrowed eyes.
“I always do thorough research before I make any business offers. It’s the smart thing to do,” he said, carefully leaving Lily out of it. He wouldn’t have known about the expansion if it hadn’t been for her, but he didn’t want Aubrey to get upset with her well-meaning employee for oversharing.
Aubrey mumbled something unintelligible, and then he
r gaze snapped to his face. “Wait. You said I could do the renovation while I’m filming in the Central Coast? Exactly where and how long are we talking about?”
“Bosque Verde, California. At least three weeks.”
“Bosque Verde is fine, I guess. It’s only three hours from here. But three weeks? That’s too long to be away from my shop.”
“Yes, being closed for three weeks is scary for a small business, but not if you think about the big picture here. You could save Comfort Zone with just three weeks of your time. You’d be investing a few weeks away to establish a secure future.” Landon had never worked so hard to convince someone to work with him. People generally came to him with offers, from which he picked and chose. “Aubrey, will you guest star on Aria’s show?”
“Yes.” Her answer was barely above a whisper. She didn’t like asking for help, and she hadn’t asked for his help, but here she was accepting it with grace. “Only because it’ll give me a fighting chance to save Comfort Zone. Your proposal might take care of my problems for now, but there’s no guarantee that starring in Aria’s show will magically fix everything.”
“It’ll give you more than a fighting chance, Aubrey.” Relief coursed through him, surprising him with its force. He had a chance to put things right for Aubrey, and he would succeed. “Aria’s star power and your sunny personality will convince my readers that my review is flawed. And once the viewers try your recipes, they’ll be your fans for life. Besides, fixing your current problems is the biggest hurdle. Ultimately, your talent and hard work will ‘fix everything.’”
“My sunny personality? You gotta be kidding me. It’s more like a thunderstorm when you’re involved.” Her short dark hair drew his eyes to her delicate features. She was still breathtaking, but the bruised shadows beneath her wide brown eyes and the pallor of her skin bore testament to the havoc he’d wrought on her life. “I hope you know what you’re talking about. My future depends on it.”