by Laura Pavlov
“Uh, we’ve just got the one pot of brew,” Molly said, coming around the counter and halting when she saw who was standing there. “Ohhhh… we’ve got business.”
I rolled my eyes and mumbled, “If you want to call it that.”
He smirked. “I’m not a customer. I’m actually her business partner.”
“Don’t get excited. It’s a very small percentage and we can renegotiate those terms next year.”
“I’m counting on it,” he said, taking the cup from Molly and offering his hand. “I’m Ford.”
“Oh, I know who you are. I’ve done my research.” She winked, and I shook my head with disapproval. The last thing this guy needed was to have his ego stroked. “I’m Molly. Assistant baker and best friend of the owner.”
“Nice to meet you.” He took a sip of coffee and his lips turned up just a little in the corners. Most people wouldn’t have noticed it, but I’d been studying the man’s resting bitch face for the last ten minutes and the slightest sign of a human beneath the exterior was noted. “Wow. This is—decent.”
I sucked in a long breath. He was offensive without trying to be. Like he was shocked that we could make an actual cup of coffee. I’d knock this guy down a few notches from his high horse if he wasn’t currently my landlord and my business partner.
“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet. You need to try a pumpkin donut. Harls makes the best pastries around, and these donuts are to die for.” Molly hurried around the counter and grabbed a bag.
“He doesn’t eat refined sugar,” I said, using my hand to cover my mouth to keep from laughing. I mean, really? Pull the stick out of your ass and live a little, dude.
His sapphire-blue gaze locked with mine and he raised a brow. “It’s not necessary for you to speak for me. I’m quite capable, Harls,” he hissed. “And I occasionally break the rules when I feel like it, and a pumpkin donut sounds like it’s worth a try.”
He sauntered up to the counter acting all charming and genuine when he turned to Molly. “Thank you for offering. That’s very kind.”
“Of course. This will definitely be worth it. I put a few extra treats in there in case you’d like to let your staff try them,” Molly said, handing him the large bag. Traitor.
“We need to watch our bottom line, so let’s not give it all away for free,” I snarled. Not that it wasn’t the right thing to do. I mean, we wanted these people to become steady customers, but the man annoyed the hell out of me. Coming in thinking everything is free because he’s a partner.
Jackass.
“Let me worry about the bottom line. It’s sort of my thing,” he said before winking at me and waltzing to the door.
“I hope you don’t get a cavity on your way to your office. You know how fast those sugar bugs travel.” I held the door open for him, anxious to see him get the hell out of my bakery. He was ruining my mojo.
He studied me and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. I couldn’t help but stare. Annoying, yes. Beautiful, also yes.
“You’re worried about me? That’s sweet. Maybe you should put that energy into finding suitable footwear,” he said with a chuckle as he walked out the door.
I pulled the door shut and turned to find my best friend watching me, her eyes danced with amusement.
“What?” I huffed, running a hand over my hair which was pulled back in a long ponytail.
“Nothing. You’re just all flushed and flustered. I sort of love it.”
“You’re joking. I’m far from flushed or flustered. I’m irritated and annoyed. And don’t go giving everything away for free. Mr. Moneybags can pay for his food like everyone else.” I stormed behind the counter.
“Oh, he did. Look what he dropped in the tip jar.” Molly held up a hundred-dollar bill and danced around like a fool.
I rolled my eyes. “Good. He’s an asshole, so he should pay for coming in here and putting me in a funk.”
“I think you’re in a funk because your vagina is closing and it’s sad and lonely,” she said before we both burst out in laughter. “And now you have a hot man that’s going to be stopping by every morning for coffee.”
“Me and my vagina are just fine, and the last thing we’re interested in is Ford Montgomery.”
And that was the truth.
At least that’s what I was telling myself.
Chapter Three
Ford
I dropped the bag of pastries on my assistant’s desk and patted my stomach after downing two donuts in the elevator.
Okay, they were damn good donuts. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad investment. The girl could bake, I’d give her that. But she sure was a snarky little thing, as I’d experienced these last two weeks any time I made a comment about her renovation choices. I had a hunch her bite was as big as her bark, too. Today she’d worn a long floral dress that hugged her in all the right places, and she’d paired it with some white tennis shoes. She was cute, there was no doubt about it. Not my type, but I’m sure she garnered a lot of attention, gym shoes and all. Her hair was pulled back in a tie, and I was surprised to see that it ran all the way down her back in long, dark waves. I shook my head. Why the hell did I care what she wore or how long her hair was. I didn’t.
Focus.
I looked at my calendar and responded to a few emails before I heard the chatter in the hallway as people trickled in. My door flew open and Jack walked in with a mouthful of food and powdered sugar all over his shirt.
“Dude, best decision we ever made. Her brownies are un-fucking-believable.” He dropped a box full of pastries on my desk.
Interesting. She gave him a box, and me a bag? She obviously liked him better. And why did I care? I avoided sugar most days, and I couldn’t care less if she liked Jack. Everyone liked him. He probably went in there singing her praises, and she couldn’t help herself. I didn’t care.
I didn’t.
“Do you actually behave like this around women? I mean, finish chewing for God’s sake.” I reached for a napkin and brushed the crumbs off my desk and into the garbage can.
“Let me tell you something, brother. Women love a man who’s passionate. And I, my friend, am a passionate dude.”
“About pastries?” I rolled my eyes.
“About life. You should try it. Live a little. Find the joy.”
“Find the fucking joy? You’re serious. Not all of us have that luxury,” I snarled, annoyed that I was wasting time on this conversation. “And why the hell are you here so early? You never come in before ten.”
“It’s the grand opening of the bakery. I wouldn’t miss it. I promised Harls I’d be there. Harrison is down there now with a few photographers. We’re going to promote the hell out of this. You know—local girl out there living the dream.”
I rolled my eyes when he called her Harls. He’d known her, what? Five minutes? Now they were the best of friends?
“Don’t go overboard. She’s not a gimmick or toy to flaunt around. I’d put her business plan up against any I’ve seen. She’s smart. She’s worked hard to get this up and running in the time frame mapped out in her budget, and she stuck to it because she micromanaged the hell out of her contractor. Don’t sell her short or make a joke of it,” I said, walking over to the bar area to grab a water.
Jack waved his hands in the air. “Whoa, settle down there, brother. Who’s selling her short or making a joke of her? We’re promoting the hell out of her bakery. She’s passionate, and she’s been working for a long time toward this dream. We’re just—celebrating it.”
“All I’m saying is don’t steal her thunder. Don’t make this about us. It’s her thing. We ran the story that she was chosen for the space, it’s enough. Every time you bring it up, it takes away from her.”
Jack studied me and a big smile spread across his stupid face. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?
”
“Are we done? I have a busy day.” I closed my laptop and pushed to my feet. I had an eight a.m. meeting and I was running behind.
“I have a busy day as well. If you need me, I’ll be downstairs in the bakery.” He wriggled his brows, and I opened the door, encouraging him to leave.
“I thought you were helping Mom today at the winery?”
“I am. I’m kidding. Harrison and I are taking the helicopter back. We leave in thirty minutes. Call me later.”
“You got it. Tell Mom I can’t come out this weekend, but I’ll be there next weekend,” I said.
The Montgomery winery was in Napa, where we’d grown up. The winery was really Harrison’s baby, but Mom ran the marketing side of things, and Jack—well, he was PR for all the family businesses. We’d yet to meet anyone he couldn’t schmooze, unfortunately, he spent most of his time schmoozing and very little time working.
My day blew by in typical fashion, and I ate lunch at my desk while I responded to emails. My phone buzzed and I saw the text from Blaire, one of my many booty calls. I had no time or interest in an actual relationship, and there were plenty of women that were completely content with a nice dinner and sex. No strings attached. I had a healthy sex drive, but zero tolerance for bullshit. So, this worked well for me.
Blaire ~ I’d like to see you tonight.
Blaire was a woman who didn’t require or even want to share a meal. She wanted to get down to business. That was an offer I couldn’t refuse.
Me ~ I’ll be done at the office around 9 p.m. I’ll meet you at your apartment at 9:30?
I had one rule when it came to sex. They didn’t come to my place. Ever. We weren’t dating, and there was no reason to stay after. I found it far more difficult to ask someone to leave versus leaving myself. Which I always did. Sure, I’d hang around for a little small talk. I wasn’t a complete asshole. But there was no sleeping, no cuddling, and no gray areas. It’s the way I lived my life both in and out of the bedroom.
Blaire ~ I’m looking forward to it.
My phone screen lit up with my mother’s name.
“Hey, Mom,” I said. My mom and I were very close. She was one of the few people that didn’t annoy me.
“Hey there. Jack said you’re going to come out next weekend. How about I make us lunch and we can have a nice catch-up.”
“I’d like that. How are you? What’s going on at the winery?” I asked.
“You know, it’s crazy busy like always. Hanky stopped by today. He said you’re having dinner with Chanel next week?” I could hear the dishes clanking around in the background. The woman was very much like me. She never stopped. She was always going.
“Yep. It’ll be nice to catch up.”
My godfather, Hanky, had been my dad’s best friend. He’d stepped up when my father passed away five years ago, and we’d always been close. He’d been in the car with my father when he had gotten into the accident that took his life, so he’d been devastated by the tragedy as well. His daughter, Chanel, was more like a sister to me. We were the same age, and we’d grown up together, attending all the same schools up until college.
“I still think you two would make a nice couple,” Mom said with a chuckle. Always the matchmaker. Chanel and I had never dated, nor considered it. We were more like siblings, so that was never going to happen, but it didn’t stop my mother and Chanel’s mother, Marie, from trying.
“Not happening.” I shuffled through some files on my desk and found the one I was looking for.
“Well, you can’t blame me for trying. You know Claire’s daughter, Romy, is single again. She and her fiancé called things off. She always liked you in high school, didn’t she?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Mom. Stop. If I wanted a girlfriend, I’d have one.”
“I know. But you haven’t dated anyone since Madison, and I worry about you. I don’t want you to be lonely.”
I barked out a laugh. “You don’t need to worry about me being lonely. I have plenty of company. I just don’t care for repeat visitors all that much.”
She gasped, and I could imagine her rolling her eyes at my words. “I don’t need the gory details about that. I’d just like to see you happy.”
“I am happy, Mom. I promise. I’ve got a two o’clock, so I need to run. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you,” I said, slipping my suit coat back in place.
“Love you, sweetie. Looking forward to seeing you next weekend.”
I ended the call just as Sam knocked on the door to let me know my next appointment was waiting in the conference room.
I thought about what my mother said as I made my way down the hall. Madison Carlyle and I had dated all through college. I’m sure we’d had good times together, but all I could remember now was the way that it ended. I’d found her in bed with my best friend. It was the ultimate betrayal from two people that I’d trusted. I’d cut them both off and decided to change course.
I just didn’t realize how many lives that simple act was going to affect.
I finished up a little past nine and took the elevator downstairs. I was often the first to arrive in the morning and the last to leave in the evening, aside from the security guards. I think my father would be proud of my work ethic. At least I hoped he would.
“Goodnight, Mr. Montgomery,” the deep voice of the night shift security guard called out.
“See you tomorrow, Leo.”
I paused before pushing through the lobby doors when I noticed the light coming from the bakery. Was she here this late? The light went out just then, and she must have exited from the door to the street, because she didn’t come through the lobby. I stepped out to find my driver waiting at the curb and gave him the address to Blaire’s apartment. He pulled out onto the road and I spotted Harley DeLuca walking up ahead.
“Pull over, let me offer her a ride. She shouldn’t be walking alone at night.”
He pulled to the curb, and I put my window down. “Would you like a ride?”
She clutched her purse as my voice obviously startled her. She squinted to see who it was and rolled her eyes. “Jesus, you scared me.”
“That’s why you shouldn’t be walking alone at night.”
She squared her shoulders and rolled her eyes. “I’ve survived just fine for a long time on my own. I don’t need tips from you on how to go to and from work, Montgomery.”
“Are you walking to your car?”
“No. I’m not wasting money on parking when I live less than a mile away,” she said, glancing over her shoulder as a couple walked by. “I’m fine.”
“I happen to be going that way, so just get in the car and I’ll drop you off.”
“How do you know you’re going my way? You don’t know where I live,” she said, arms crossed in front of her chest. I heard my driver, Jerome, chuckle, and I glared at the back of his head.
“Good Christ. You’re walking the same direction I’m driving. Just get in the damn car.”
“You’re not the boss of me, ol’ mighty one. I said I was fine. I’m walking,” she hissed before turning on her heel and storming off.
“I guess it’s a good thing you wore tennis shoes to work then,” I shouted after her before sitting back against my seat and sucking in a slow breath. People didn’t usually argue with me.
Ever.
“Just stay behind her a bit so she doesn’t know you’re following her. I need to make sure she gets home safely,” I instructed Jerome.
I was an asshole, there was no question. But I wasn’t immune to human decency. I mean, Jesus, my parents were strict as fuck when it came to manners. They didn’t raise a complete dick. And she shouldn’t be walking home alone at night.
I sent a text to Blaire to let her know I was running a little late to our booty call.
Like I said, I wasn’t a complete dick.
“She’s turning, shall I follow?” Jerome asked.
“Yes.” I glanced out the window and spotted the bar I visited once a year just as we turned the corner. The neighborhood was quickly changing for the worse the further she walked. What the hell was she thinking? I couldn’t figure this girl out. I’d stopped by the bakery almost daily during construction to check on the progress, and every single time she’d given me attitude. She was all laughs and good times with my brothers, but she obviously despised me.
She paused in front of a dry cleaners to speak to a man who was hunched down against a shopping cart and she started a conversation with him, before handing him a bag. What the hell was this? I saw the man reach in the bag, and I strained to see the cupcake he pulled out, and I rolled my eyes. She was feeding the fucking homeless while walking alone on darkened streets. Not the wisest choice.
Jerome pulled the car over a safe distance from her, and he had his lights turned off as I watched. She turned around to face us before flipping me off and jogging into the door beside the dry cleaner.
I laughed, which didn’t happen often.
“Sorry, Mr. Montgomery. I guess she spotted us.”
“It’s fine. We can head over to the address I gave you now,” I said, glancing out the window as we drove by and a light turned on upstairs.
At least she was home. I’d done my part. She wasn’t my concern.
But something unfamiliar tugged at my chest.
I pushed it away.
Just like I always did.
Chapter Four
Harley
My back ached when I sat up in bed. I’d put in long days this week, and I wanted to get to the bakery early today to prep for another big crowd. The last few days had far exceeded my expectations, and I was hoping it would continue. But I needed the Montgomery brothers to quit trying to sell my fairy tale story to the entire city.
We got it.
Financially strapped girl strikes it big with hot location for new bakery.