by Laura Pavlov
“Hi, Francesca. You’re looking well. I hear congratulations are in order.”
“Thank you. Yes. We’re doing final tours, so we haven’t met with your mom yet, but I definitely want to have the ceremony here if the dates work.”
I nodded. “I’m sure we’ll do everything we can to accommodate you.”
“So, how are you?” Madison asked, shooting her sister a look to leave us alone. Francesca waved and walked away, dropping down to sit on the bench near the gift shop.
“I’m fine, Madison.”
“I know this is a tough time of year for you. You don’t need to be so stoic. How about we grab dinner this week?” She tipped her head down and batted her lashes at me. We were so far past this shit having any effect on me. I was embarrassed she was still trying. Sure, she’d tried to patch things up at first, but there was no moving past what she’d done.
“That’s a hard no,” I said, crossing my arms in front of me.
“Come on, Ford. It’s been years. I’m still single, you’re still single. Doesn’t that tell you something?”
“Nope. It’s still telling me that you fucked my best friend. Take care, Madison.” I turned to walk away, aggravated that I even had to deal with this bullshit at my family winery.
She reached for my arm. “Can’t we get past this?”
I turned around. “Madison. I’m past it. It’s old news. You need to move on. I have.”
“But have you really? You’re not seeing anyone.”
“How the hell do you know what I’m doing. Trust me when I tell you—this is done. Has been for five years.”
“I miss you. I know you must feel something toward me.” Her voice was desperate, and we were standing in the middle of the lobby with her mother and sister a mere twenty feet away. Awkward didn’t begin to describe the situation. I hadn’t spoken to this woman in years, so this was coming out of left field. Knowing Madison, she’d had a recent breakup and was desperate to find someone new. She never could be alone. Apparently, not even for a weekend which is how long it took her to jump in the sack with Garrett.
“Madison,” I said, keeping my voice low in an effort not to embarrass her. “I’m good. I wish you the best. Truly. It’s in the past. I don’t think about it, nor do I have any desire to revisit it.”
It was the truth. I never thought about Madison. I occasionally thought about Garrett because he’d been more like a brother to me than a friend, so that wound ran deeper. But the truth was—my father was killed shortly after I’d walked in on them, and the loss of my father had been devastating. Madison and Garrett’s betrayal paled in comparison to the pain of losing Dad. I resented them for the role they’d played in the last conversation I’d had with my father. But in the big scheme of things, I thought about them very little.
“You know, this is the reason I strayed. You’re not emotionally available, Ford. You never were.”
“You’re probably right. But you’re about five years late to this conversation. Take care,” I said just as Jack strolled around the corner.
“Oh, hey. I was just coming to find you, Ford. I didn’t know you were coming with Francesca today,” Jack said, looking incredibly uncomfortable as he spoke to my ex.
“Well, why wouldn’t I? She’s my sister,” she huffed and stalked away.
“You didn’t think a heads-up would have been nice?”
“Today was just a tour, so we don’t even know if she’s choosing this as her venue. I didn’t want to bother you with it unless it was actually happening. And I had no idea Madison would be coming with her,” Jack said, running a hand through his overgrown dark hair.
“Whatever. I’m not even here all that much, so it’s fine. And I actually like Francesca, so if she wants to have it here, she should. I’m heading back to the city. I’ll see you later.”
“Hey.” He grabbed my shoulder to stop me. “You want to grab dinner Tuesday night?”
“I’ve got plans, but you should do dinner with Mom and Harrison.”
“Okay. I’m here for you if you need me. You know that, right?” he said.
“Of course. Love you, brother.” I gave him a half-hug before walking out the door.
Everyone always got a little more emotional right before the anniversary of my father’s death. It was par for the course.
And I hated it.
Chapter Six
Harley
This week was off to a crazy start. I knew what to expect now, was prepared for the early rush, and had found my rhythm at DeLiciously Yours. Monday had been crazy busy, and I knew today would be no different. I flipped on the lights, put the coffee on, and pulled out a few samples of pastries to display in the glass case. I laughed when I thought about how many people asked for a coffee and said they didn’t want anything else, only to change their minds and add in a few pastries while I rang them up. Amazing how quickly one could change their mind when they came eye to eye with a cupcake.
The door chimed letting me know someone had entered and I called out, “Is that you, Montgomery?”
It was either Ford or Molly, and my best friend was a lot of things, but an early bird was not one of them.
“Yep.” He stopped and leaned against the doorframe leading into the kitchen.
I looked up because he usually said something snarky or rude, and this wasn’t the norm. I’d come to look forward to our morning banter.
“Everything okay? Did your penthouse catch on fire? Your driver run out of gas and force you to take an Uber like us common folk?” I teased.
He didn’t laugh or even smile. He pushed away from the doorframe and moved into the kitchen to pour his coffee. Yesterday I’d informed him that it wouldn’t pour itself, so he should feel free to jump on in and help himself. Mornings were for me to prepare for my actual customers, not wait on my landlord slash partner. He was more than capable of pouring a cup of coffee, after all. But yesterday he’d joked back. Today he was closed off and, what? I couldn’t put my finger on it. Not irritated. Vulnerable, maybe?
“Hey, I was kidding. Are you okay?” I asked, wiping my flour-covered hands on a towel and walking toward him.
“I’m fine.” He struggled to get the lid to fasten to the cup. The man ran one of the most successful media companies on the planet and pouring a cup of coffee appeared to fluster him.
“You don’t seem fine,” I said, yanking the lid out of his hand and popping it in place before handing him the cup.
“I’m a busy man, Harley. I don’t have time for games.” He turned on his heels and stormed out the door.
Well, okay then.
The guy was impossible to read. I never knew which Ford I would get. Sometimes he was moody as shit, other days he was actually funny. Typical rich kid. He probably had to wait two seconds for his posh car to pull up this morning and he’d been inconvenienced.
Well, he wasn’t the only one with a life. I was a busy woman as well. And I didn’t have time to decipher his many personalities.
The door chimed again, and Molly walked in. I tried to push away thoughts of the pompous ass who’d snapped at me for no reason at all.
Molly and I hustled through the rush, and things were just starting to slow down when Harrison and Jack walked through the door.
The more tolerable Montgomery brothers.
“Hey, Harls,” Jack purred. He really was adorable. Tall and lean with dark hair and dark eyes.
“Hi there. Let me guess, you want to frost some cupcakes again. I told you, it’s addicting.”
“Come on. I’m about to do a few batches now,” Molly called out, and he followed her back to the kitchen.
“Only if I get to eat a few while I work,” he said.
“Deal,” I yelled out to him as I continued to wipe down the tables. Two people sat at the back table, but the place had cleared out for now, at leas
t until the lunch rush. I glanced over at Harrison, who stood near the display case, but appeared distracted. “Are you okay?”
“What? Yeah, of course. Just an off day.” He was also tall and lean. The Montgomery boys all had that in common. They’d all been blessed with a god-like physique, along with their natural good looks. Harrison seemed to be the most kind-hearted of the three, and definitely more soft spoken than his brothers.
“Yeah? Your brother seemed a little off this morning as well.”
“Ford?”
“Yep. He was moodier than usual,” I said with a chuckle.
Harrison walked over to a table and pulled out a chair, dropping to sit. “I’m not surprised.”
I sat in the chair across from him. “Everything okay?”
“Yes and no. I mean, it’s a tough day for our family. We all handle it differently. Jack acts like nothing happened, Ford acts like the world has ended and he won’t talk to anyone, and I sort of go through the motions. I guess that’s grief for you, huh?”
I didn’t know what we were talking about and I didn’t want to pry. I leaned closer, I wanted him to know he could talk to me. I had my own experience with grief, and I knew it was tough to navigate. Gramps and I had done the best we could, and time had a way of healing some of those wounds, but I felt the loss of my grandmother every day.
“I don’t think there’s a right or wrong way to grieve. I think you just have to let yourself feel it, and go through those emotions, you know?”
“Yeah. It’s five years today that we lost Dad. It was just so unexpected. That one loss changed all of our lives so much. Ford came home from Europe and immediately started running the company. Jack decided he didn’t want to pursue the NFL any longer and finished out his time at USC playing ball, and then came to work for the family business. And I, well, I left school and came home to finish up and be near my mother. I walked away from a lot of things that were good in my life because I didn’t want to feel happy at that time, if that makes sense. Anyway, I don’t mean to dump this on you. This day just always takes me back to a different time.”
I nodded. “It makes perfect sense. I think that’s all normal, but I also think it’s okay to feel happy again. I’m sure your father would want that for all of you.”
He chuckled. “You’re right about that. He’d be pissed that we all changed course, but he’d be happy that we rallied as a family. That was the most important thing in the world to him.”
My heart ached for all three of them. I couldn’t shake the way that Ford looked this morning now that I knew the reason. He was grieving. I’d misread him.
“Check out this one.” Jack came around the counter holding a cupcake with twice as much icing as we usually put on them. He pulled out a chair and took a huge bite.
I laughed. “Wow. You want some cupcake to go with your icing?”
I smiled at Harrison and he nodded. I was glad he’d opened up to me. And I’d be a bit kinder to his moody older brother the next time I saw him.
“The frosting is the best part,” he said around a mouthful of cake.
“Glad you enjoyed it.” I laughed.
“Did you tell her about Dad?” Jack asked, looking between Harrison and me.
“Yep.”
“I could tell. You’ve got that sappy look on your face, Harls.”
I shook my head and smiled. “I don’t do sappy. But I am sorry to hear about your dad.”
“Yeah. It sucks. We’re heading out to Napa to have dinner with Mom tonight.”
“What about Ford?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“No. He likes to do his own thing. He doesn’t like thinking about it or talking about it,” Harrison said, pushing to his feet.
“Oh, trust me, I just went up there to check on him and he ripped my head off,” Jack said. “But on the bright side, there’s a hot new intern working in the media room, so at least something good came out of me going up there.”
Harrison and I both laughed, and I shook my head at him. “I thought you told me you liked the girl you met over the weekend?”
“Harls, Harls, Harls… it’s all about the options, babe. Sort of like when I come in here. Some days I want a cupcake, and other days I want a donut or a brownie. Why limit yourself?”
I rolled my eyes. “You didn’t just compare women to baked goods, did you?”
“He did,” Harrison said with disgust.
“Jack, get your lazy ass back here and help me clean up the mess you made. There’s pink icing everywhere,” Molly shouted from the kitchen.
“That one scares me,” Jack whispered about my best friend before walking to the back to do as he was told.
“Like I said, everyone deals with this day differently,” Harrison said with a smile.
Just then a few women stepped inside, gushing about how cute the interior was. Harrison called out for Jack and said they needed to get to the winery as their mother had just sent him a text. I gave them each a quick hug before turning my attention back to my customers.
The rest of the day was a blur. To say we were slammed was an understatement. Molly had left an hour ago, and I was just getting things prepped for tomorrow. It was late. Later than I usually left, and I was happy to see that Ford’s car wasn’t sitting out front when I stepped outside. I was looking forward to the walk and the fresh air after having been cooped up all day.
It was a warm summer evening, the sky had darkened, but between the moon and the streetlights, the sidewalk was easy to follow. There were a few people out, and I loved the sounds of the city after dusk. Cars drove past, horns honked, and laughter and chatter faded in the distance, but it was relatively calm. DeLiciously Yours had had its best day as far as sales go, and I allowed myself to daydream about all the things I’d hoped for when I started this business. I dreamed of paying off Gramps’ home for him. He’d phoned me to let me know my mother had called again looking for me. She was obviously aware that I’d opened a bakery, and of course she wondered how it would benefit her.
As I approached the corner where I’d turn for home, I heard a scuffle and moved to the outside of the sidewalk as not to get caught up in it.
“You’ve had enough, buddy,” I heard a man say as he dragged another man out the door of the bar.
“Fuck you. I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough,” another man shouted, and my spine went stick straight at the sound of his voice. He leaned against the building and slid down the wall to sit on the ground. The bouncer turned around to walk back inside.
I stopped and turned to study him. “Montgomery?”
“Why do you insist on walking alone at night?” His words were slurred, and he lifted his head to look at me.
“Um. Wow. You’ve just been thrown out of a dive bar, you’re sitting on the ground in your high buck suit, and you’re judging me?” My head fell back in laughter.
“The baker lady, the baker lady, she always likes to throw me shady.” His words were barely audible and completely ridiculous, and I tried to cover my smile. Not that the man could see straight at the moment anyway. I was getting a front-row seat to how Ford Montgomery dealt with grief.
“I believe you mean, throw you shade?” I squatted down to get eye level to him. And holy crap, the dude reeked of liquor.
“No. I mean shady. Shady lady.” He chuckled before leaning forward and vomiting. All over my favorite Chucks. I pushed to stand and gasped. Are you freaking kidding me?
“Um, you need to get off the street. Where’s your driver?” I asked, shaking the puke off my feet, and reaching for his hand to help him up.
“No. Don’t call Jerome. I sent him home. I don’t want my brothers to know where I am.”
I got him up on his feet and wrapped an arm around his waist to try to help stabilize him. Jesus, what was I supposed to do with him now?
“Okay. Wel
l, you can’t stay here. I live right around the corner. Why don’t we go get you cleaned up, I can make you a cup of coffee, and then we’ll call you an Uber.”
“My dad died five years ago today.” He was leaning all his weight on me, and Ford Montgomery was not a small man. I was trying to stay on my puke-covered feet while balancing this jackass against me and walking another hundred yards to my door, and my chest squeezed at his words.
“I’m sorry,” I said, looking up at the flight of stairs I’d need to lug his drunk ass up. Thankfully this building only had two stories, and my apartment was on the second floor. Also known as the penthouse.
“You don’t even know the worst of it.” He slumped forward, causing me to fall as well. We were both sprawled out on the steps, and the smell of booze and vomit surrounded me.
“Oh my god,” I said as I dry heaved and was unable to stop. I covered my mouth and nose with my hand and shoved him to the side. “Stop talking. We need to focus. You’re going to have to help me.”
“Leave me here. Just leave me here.”
I pushed to stand, and he rolled on his back, making zero effort to get up. His arms flailed around him.
“Montgomery. Pull your shit together. Get up,” I shouted, yanking his arm hard. Surprisingly, he did as he was told, and I was able to pull him to his feet.
“It’s all my fault you know. You probably wouldn’t be helping me if you knew I’d killed my own father,” he slurred.
I reached for my key and propped him against the wall beside the door as I pushed it open. “Yeah, well, I’m sure you had your reasons. We’ve all got our baggage. Good to know your rich ass isn’t immune to it.”
He leaned against me and I helped him to the couch before kicking off my vomit-covered tennis shoes. I ran to get the wastepaper basket from my bathroom and set it next to him. “Do not puke on this couch. It’s the first piece of furniture I’ve ever bought.” I chuckled and walked to the kitchen to get him a cup of coffee.