“Who were you talking to?” Natalie asks.
“Daddy.”
“I see.”
Chloe is quiet as she follows her to the table and the three of them sit down for dinner.
Natalie decides to eat her veggie burger without mayonnaise, and is surprised to find that it doesn’t taste too bad. Piling on the lettuce and tomato seems to help.
The three of them are eating silently until Chloe suddenly speaks up. “Daddy told me that you hit Lena today. Is that true?”
“What?” Natalie nearly chokes on her burger.
“He said you got into a fight with her.” Chloe’s voice quivers.
Natalie is ready to call Peter and scream at him, when she suddenly feels Lindsay’s hand on her arm.
“Your mom was amazing today,” Lindsay says to Chloe.
“She was?”
“You should have seen the way she handled Lena.”
“Lindsay!” Natalie shoots her sister a dark look. “This is not something we should be talking about!”
“Hey, Peter’s obviously already told her. We might as well set the record straight.”
“What do you mean?” Chloe asks, her gaze roaming between the two of them.
Lindsay wipes her hands with a napkin. “There’s no point denying the truth. She’s old enough to handle it, aren’t you?” Lindsay turns to Chloe.
“Of course!” Chloe says eagerly.
Natalie puts her burger down. She feels like she’s standing in the path of a hurricane and there’s nothing she can do about it. Peter is determined to cause trouble. And her sister is like a force of nature when she puts her mind to it. Peter should never have said anything to Chloe to begin with, though.
“Your mom paid Lena a visit today,” Lindsay tells Chloe with a smile, “and she gave her the business.” She then proceeds to tell the whole story. Natalie has to hand it to her, too. Lindsay makes her sound like a superhero, though that isn’t exactly accurate.
“It was wrong of me to slap her,” Natalie says quickly. “Don’t let Lindsay glamorize it. I never should have done that.”
“Daddy never told me that Lena tried to hurt you.”
“Exactly why I wanted to set the record straight,” Lindsay says, turning to Natalie. “See, she gets it. I knew she would.”
Chloe nods and seems to accept the explanation. Still uncomfortable, Natalie wants nothing but to end this whole conversation. She’s going to call Peter as soon as she can and give him a piece of her mind. How dare he drag Chloe into all this!
After dinner, they settle in the living room with a bowl of popcorn to watch a movie on Netflix. To Natalie’s relief, Chloe doesn’t seem upset at all anymore. She reflects on the way her mom used to handle all her dad’s infidelities. Maybe she’d judged her too harshly all those years. In truth, it wasn’t all bad growing up. They had some good times, too, especially after her dad won the World Series of Poker. It wasn’t as big a deal then as it is today, but it was still something special. There was money, prestige, and both her parents were the happiest she’d ever seen them. Her dad was home all the time, and she and Lindsay honestly believed their lives had changed for the better. It didn’t last long, but it was still one of Natalie’s fondest childhood memories.
When the movie is over, and after she helps tuck Chloe into bed, Natalie finds Lindsay and thanks her for turning things around during dinner. “I swear, I could almost kill Peter! I don’t know what he was thinking, telling Chloe about the fight with Lena.”
Her sister’s eyes narrow. “Oh, I know what he was doing. He was trying to work the whole thing to his advantage.”
Natalie is quiet as she considers Lindsay’s words. “I don’t want things to get ugly between us, but he’s making that hard.”
“Face it, divorce is ugly.”
“I know.” Natalie gets up to leave and then lingers in the doorway. “Do you remember back when Dad won the World Series?”
“Of course.”
“That was the best time, wasn’t it?”
Lindsay’s face softens. “Yeah, that was pretty great.”
Later, when Natalie is lying in the guest bedroom staring at the ceiling, she reflects on her own life. Are my best times over? She considers Lindsay’s diet question. Part of her wants to start a diet, but part of her is afraid of all those past failures.
After that veggie burger, she didn’t give in to her usual late night snacking and even ate her popcorn without butter. She still feels kind of hungry, but remembers reading somewhere once that it’s good to go to bed slightly hungry.
Can I do this? She thinks of Peter and Lena together. Lena with her sexy body and her long blonde hair. The way she sneered at Natalie, as if she were nothing.
A grim determination comes over Natalie.
I’m hungry, but it’s for a lot more than food this time.
The next morning Natalie sets up an appointment with a divorce lawyer. It’s time for her to get her act together and be smart about things.
Leaning back in her chair, she feels surprisingly clearheaded. She’s sitting in La Dolce Vita’s small back office. There’s a desk with a notebook computer on it they use to keep track of expenses and payroll. Her eyes stop on the binder where they keep all the letters and other correspondence having to do with their lease. She thinks about Espresso Breve’s real name. Anthony Novello.
It really is an odd coincidence.
Curiously, she reaches over and grabs the binder. They’ve been sending their landlord and his lawyer letters and financial statements, showing them how well they’re doing. Every response has been curt. He said he didn’t believe La Dolce Vita could afford both the price of remodeling the space next door along with the accompanying increase in rent. It doesn’t make sense, as if he’s trying to hold them back on purpose. Meanwhile the space next to them has been empty for months, so surely he’s losing money?
Natalie finds the letters and immediately opens one, scanning down to the signature. It says ‘A. Novello.’ She checks each one and they’re all signed the same.
Is it possible that A. Novello is Espresso Breve?
When she finds Blair, she’s in the kitchen piping a three-tiered wedding cake with brown fondant and delicate white petal dots.
“That looks fantastic,” Natalie says.
Blair shrugs.
Natalie sighs. Even though Blair is younger, Natalie has found her to be a level-headed and solid business partner. She’s never regretted teaming up with her. Unfortunately, Blair is also an obsessive perfectionist who is way too hard on herself.
“What happened with that young couple who came in earlier? I noticed they didn’t look happy.”
Blair wipes her forehead with the back of her arm. “I know. I had to send them to Markoff’s.” Markoff’s was a bakery in Seattle specializing in wedding cakes. Blair used to work there before she and Natalie opened La Dolce Vita. “I hate to turn business away, but we’re bulging at the seams. The fridge is full. I have no place to stuff another large cake.”
“Speaking of which, why don’t you take a look at these?” Natalie holds up the letters.
Blair puts her pastry bag down and takes her gloves off. “What is it?”
“Just look at the signatures.”
Flipping through the letters from their landlord and his attorney, Blair’s brows go up and stay that way until she’s seen them all. “I can’t believe it. Do you think it’s really the same guy? It makes no sense.”
“I know one way to find out.”
“What’s that?”
Natalie takes the letters back from Blair. “Confront him. Next time he comes in, we need to ask him if he’s our landlord.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Blair picks up her plastic gloves and flips them back and forth absentmindedly. “I don’t want it to be him. I hate the thought he’s in here all the time and yet won’t let us have the space next door. He must be a jerk.”
“It’s a distinct possibility.”
“So, are you going to ask him?”
“Me?” Natalie is startled. “I thought maybe you could ask him, since you already sold him that cake.”
“I know, let’s both ask. It’ll be harder for him to squirm out of it.”
Natalie agrees. “Good idea. Plus, if we go down in flames, it will be together.”
THINGS ARE BUSY at work, but she and Blair remember to keep an eye out for Anthony. A few weeks pass and there’s no sign of him. Luckily, they have Carlos manning the front and he’s as good as any early warning system.
Meanwhile, Natalie meets with a divorce lawyer who tells her she and Peter need to draw up a formal separation agreement. That way there are no misunderstandings about the house or Chloe. Peter balks after he reviews the paperwork she faxed to his lawyer’s office.
“I’m not going to knock before I enter my own house,” he tells her over the phone. “Why should I do that?”
“You moved out. Or maybe you’d like to give me a key to where you’re living now, so I can come and go as I please.”
“Don’t be absurd. Besides, it’s not my place, it’s Lena’s.”
Natalie tries to rein in her temper. “Look, do you want to move forward with this divorce or not? You can’t have it both ways.”
Peter sighs as if he’s being put upon in the worst manner. “Fine. I’ll knock, but don’t change the locks. There’s no point in that.”
He agrees to have Chloe one night a week and every other weekend. The agreement feels surreal to Natalie, but she’s glad it’s in writing. What’s also becoming clear to her is she’s going to have to buy out Peter’s half of the house. Now, more than ever, she could use the income boost that expanding the bakery would provide. She makes a decent living, but not nearly as much as Peter’s dental practice.
She’s in the back kitchen putting the finishing touches on a chocolate truffle cake when Blair comes up to her. The cake smells delicious, but Natalie ignores it, still holding strong with her diet. It’s been over a month now. The longest she’s ever stuck with it. She’s been using the elliptical every night, too, and has even started eyeing the row of shiny weights, wondering if she should give them a try.
“He’s here finally,” Blair tells her. “Looking as hot as ever, I might add.”
Natalie finishes the last rosette and puts down her piping bag. She doesn’t need to ask who “he” is. There’s a bowl of chocolate shavings beside her that she starts to sprinkle on top of the cake.
Blair watches her. “There’s someone with him, though. I’m guessing it’s his girlfriend. Do you think we should still confront him?”
“Definitely.”
Blair nods. “Good, I agree. And if it turns out he’s our landlord, I’m going to offer him my body in sacrifice. Actually, even if he’s not our landlord I’ll offer him my body in celebration.”
“That’s big of you,” Natalie’s tone is dry, “but what about the girlfriend?”
“She’s pretty, but how could he resist this?” Blair sweeps a regal hand in front of herself. With her long auburn waves and hazel eyes, she looks like she should be married to an English prince.
“You’re right. I think you should offer yourself to him lounging on a fancy cake platter with a side of whipped cream.”
Blair laughs. “I can work with that.” She walks over to the mirror by the back door and fluffs her hair out. “I’d better get some lipstick. Do you want some?”
“No, that’s all right.” Natalie picks up the truffle cake and takes it into the back fridge. On the way out, she sees a bowl of whipped cream that Carlos made to use for coffee drinks. She remembers Anthony’s tan hands and imagines him dipping a masculine finger into the whipped cream, painting it on her, then bending over to lick it off her skin. Her breath catches. Wow.
As they approach Anthony’s table, Natalie can see Blair is right. There is an attractive young woman sitting across from him. And judging by the way she’s smiling and making eyes, they’re definitely involved.
It’s Blair who speaks to him first. “Excuse me—I’m sorry to interrupt.”
Both Anthony and the woman look up, though he’s the one who speaks. “Yes?”
“Your name is Anthony Novello, right?” Blair continues.
He nods. “I know you, don’t I?”
Natalie steps forward and blurts out, “Are you the landlord of this building?”
She watches the surprise register on his handsome face. “Yes, I am.” His eyes linger on her with a glimmer of confusion, but then go back to Blair.
“Anthony!” The young woman sitting across from him giggles. “You own this building? What other secrets are you hiding?”
He shrugs. “It’s not exactly a secret.”
“But, like, wow—you’re a landlord?”
Natalie examines his girlfriend, curious about the kind of a woman who attracts a man like this. She’s probably in her mid-twenties, with large brown eyes and a mouth that’s glossed up in a flattering shade of pink. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a stylishly messy ponytail. There are flashes of gold everywhere—ears, neck, wrists, and hands. She’s wearing more jewelry than a gypsy fortune teller, though Natalie has to admit it doesn’t look bad. She manages to pull it off. Despite the strong aroma of coffee and baked goods in the air, Natalie can still make out her perfume, which is something floral with a kick of patchouli.
Anthony glances across at the giggling girlfriend, but then his eyes go back to Blair and Natalie, who in contrast are not smiling.
“What’s your problem with us taking over the space next door?” Natalie asks pointedly.
“You want the space next door?”
“Yes, of course. We’ve sent you a bunch of letters laying out our financial situation, but your response is always the same. You tell us we can’t have it, but you never tell us why.”
Anthony takes in her words and then nods slowly. “I do remember what you’re talking about. Your financial information didn’t work out, though. My attorney sent you a letter explaining it all.” His voice has a note of finality.
The giggler starts moaning. “O.M.G.! This red velvet cake is amaaazing! Have you tried this, Anthony?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“I’m going to give you a bite. You’ve got to try this!”
“That’s all right, Justine. I’m good.” He waves her away.
“Oh, come on, just one bite.” She leans forward and holds the fork up to his mouth so he’s forced to eat it.
“Isn’t it heaven?”
Anthony chews and swallows. “It’s too sweet.”
Natalie’s eyes widen in disbelief. Did he just describe her red velvet cake as too sweet?
Justine turns to Natalie and Blair. “Anthony only likes Italian pastries. Isn’t that crazy? You guys are amaaazing bakers. Seriously!”
“Thank you,” Natalie says, glaring at Anthony. Too sweet. I’ll show him too sweet. My red velvet is perfection.
“That cake is one of our biggest sellers,” Blair informs him.
He looks mildly surprised. “It might become your biggest seller if you cut back on the sugar.”
Blair looks at Natalie and rolls her eyes as if to say—can you believe this guy?
“What do you mean, our financial information doesn’t work out?” Natalie asks him.
“It means, I took all your data into consideration and the numbers were not in your favor. I’m sorry,” he adds as an afterthought.
It’s clear he’s done talking about this, but Natalie and Blair don’t move. “Look, no offense, but we need more than that,” Natalie tells him. “A lot more.”
“Definitely,” Blair agrees. “This is our livelihood. You can’t just say the numbers don’t work and expect us to accept that.”
Anthony takes a sip from his espresso breve as he considers the two of them. “Tell you what,” he puts down his cup, “how about we set up a meeting and I can show you exactly what I’m talking about?”
; Blair looks at Natalie, who nods. “That would work.”
They set up a time to meet the following morning at seven, before La Dolce Vita opens.
When she and Blair are back in the kitchen, Natalie pours herself a glass of water. “That was interesting,” she says, leaning against the counter. “I’m not sure what to make of him.”
“Gosh, I think it’s amaaazing that he’s our landlord. Don’t you think that’s amaaazing?”
Natalie laughs. “You sound just like her.”
“Why do guys who look like that always go for women who are nitwits?”
“Uh, maybe because she’s gorgeous?”
“Skinny with big boobs. I guess that’s every guy’s type.”
“I suppose so.” Natalie frowns. “Do you think it’s possible my red velvet is too sweet?”
Blair gets an incredulous expression on her face. “Please, your red velvet is perfection.”
“That’s what I always thought.”
“Don’t listen to Mr. Your-Numbers-Don’t-Add-Up. He may be hot, but clearly, he’s no genius. I can’t wait to hear how he explains this to us tomorrow.”
The next morning as Natalie rolls out dough for tangerine currant scones, surrounded by the scent of cinnamon from the apple turnovers fresh from the oven, she keeps going over the meeting planned with their recently unveiled landlord. Despite his criticism of her red velvet cake, he clearly likes La Dolce Vita, since he’s a regular customer. She’s genuinely curious as to what his reasons are for not letting them expand.
Before she’s ready to load everything into her van, she heads upstairs to the bathroom and dabs moisturizer on her face and puts a little concealer under her eyes. Even though she knows it doesn’t make much difference, she still decides to take extra care with her appearance. When she pulls her hair back, she uses a small mirror to make sure her ponytail looks a little disheveled, trying to imitate the messy style she sees so many women wearing.
Year of Living Blonde (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 1) Page 7