by Ashley Quinn
London stifled a laugh. Okay, she couldn’t be more different from Diane. Thank the Universe. “I’ll take your word for it,” she replied. She took another sip of coffee. “Let’s go to Enterprise.”
---
An hour later, London gripped the passenger door handle of Tiffany’s silver Prius as it zipped in and out of traffic on I-20. She breathed a sigh of relief as she swung the hybrid vehicle into a compact parking space in front of the car rental facility. They were near downtown Fort Worth at Meacham Airport and she glanced around cautiously. A few of the tall buildings that made up the eerie, hulking Fort Worth skyline were visible in the distance, but they were mainly surrounded by older brick industrial buildings.
London stepped out of the Prius and was immediately taken with the late morning heat. “This is different than the type of hot we get in Chicago,” she remarked as she pulled her black Coach sunglasses over her eyes. “It’s muggy and humid there in the summers. This is different. This is...”
“The seventh circle of hell?” Tiffany supplied with a grin. She held a hand over her eyes to shade them. “You know, it’s only going to get hotter as spring turns to summer.”
The dry heat was a warming contrast to the air-conditioned car. It surrounded and relaxed her. This is like a sauna she decided. A complimentary sauna every time you walk outside.
London took a few deep breaths and enjoyed the feeling of the warm, clean air filling her lungs. She held the door to Enterprise for Tiffany and absent-mindedly ran her fingers through her hair. She nearly jerked her hand back as she realized the strands were already hot to the touch.
The rental office was small and empty. A bored-looking college student tore his eyes from the computer and forced a smile. “Hi, welcome to Enterprise. How can I help you?”
“I need a car,” London started. She glanced behind him at dated posters along the wall. They were faded and baked from the direct sunlight filtering through wide windows. “Whatever you have.”
He nodded and punched a few keys on the beige keyboard. “Unfortunately, y’all picked a heck of a week to come to the metroplex,” he replied. “The Mary Kay Convention started this week, so most of my economy cars are out for the next seven days.”
Mary Kay Convention? London thought amusedly as she imagined pink Cadillacs and big-haired women. Only in Texas. She took a deep breath. But maybe that attitude is exactly what makes people think you’re a snob. Her mind briefly flashed back to Natalie Silva.
London nodded. “That’s okay,” she replied. “Whatever you have.”
“I have a few luxury vehicles left.” He glanced up and scratched his scraggly goatee. “We have a brand-new Audi R8. It’ll be more expensive than the economy cars, but the manager just brought it over from the dealership two weeks ago.”
She waved a hand. “Sure, that’s fine. I’ll give you a credit card.”
He began entering the order as London reached into her back pocket for her wallet. She glanced out the front door and saw that Tiffany had stepped back into the heat. She watched for another moment as she quickly popped something into her mouth, uncapped a bottle of water and took a long drink.
Something doesn’t feel right about that London thought. Adderall is time-released. She seems to be taking an awful lot.
A few minutes later, London joined Tiffany outside as they waited for the car. She closed her eyes for a moment as the heat coated her skin. She imagined the bright sun as a holistic medicine that penetrated her pores and fed her soul with Vitamin D and warmth. Tiffany’s burst of surprised laughter interrupted her reverie.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tiffany exclaimed. “An Audi R8, London? Really?”
London shrugged but didn’t meet her eyes. “The Mary Kay Convention is this week. I took what they had left.”
“Whatever you say,” Tiffany replied teasingly. “It’s official. You’re a thirty-two year old yuppie.”
London glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. “At least I’m not a twenty-two year old hippie.”
There was a moment of silence and then they both burst into laughter at themselves. We’re so different London thought. But we’re alike too. How is that possible?
“I’m off to Dallas to meet my mom in Preston Hollow for lunch,” Tiffany continued between giggles. “I wish it was because she wants to hear about my time in Cambodia, but realistically? All she wants to do is gossip, pretend like I care about Dallas society and guilt me about getting back into school. Trust me, a Diane Foster guilt trip is unlike anything this world has seen. You have plans?”
London considered this. “Right now? Find the nearest Starbucks.”
Tiffany groaned as she got into her Prius. “Don’t even get me started,” she replied. “You’re killing me, sister.” She paused as she began backing the car out of its narrow space and then rolled down the window and stuck her head out. “If you must, Google Brewed,” she called. “Much better java and you’re supporting a local business instead.”
London watched as Tiffany waved and then sped off into a quick right turn toward the highway. She laughed to herself and sank into the smooth, toffee-colored leather seats of the Audi. She hit a button on her phone and smiled as Siri’s familiar robotic voice greeted her.
“Siri, take me to Brewed,” London commanded. This afternoon’s agenda? Frappuccino, some magazines and a bite to eat. Maybe this relaxation thing isn’t half bad.
---
“Y’all have a great day now!” Natalie called cheerfully after two of her lunchtime regulars. With the bakery empty, she took a deep breath and rested her elbows on the long metal cooking counter. Her hands were dry and powdery and her vintage Beatles t-shirt was stained with an errant streak of dried chocolate. The spring temperatures were soaring and she had worked up a thin sweat servicing the early morning and lunchtime crowds. She had stuffed her long hair beneath a faded Dallas Cowboys baseball cap that she had borrowed from Celia. Her aunt was in the back, counting the register and balancing the bakery’s checkbook. Natalie closed her eyes and enjoyed the rare moment of stillness.
The moment was far too short. The bell above the front door jangled and she blinked. “Welcome to...”
The words died on her lips. The angry woman in the towel, who was now fully clothed, stood before her and gave her a small smile. Natalie got the feeling it was something she didn’t do often.
Thank God she’s clothed, thank God she’s clothed, thank God... She repeated in her head. Even if I wouldn’t mind seeing her in that towel again. Her body and mind battled for a moment before she realized she needed to say something, anything.
“Welcome to Mission Bakery,” she finished and then cleared her throat. “What can I get for you?”
The woman smiled, wider this time. Why on Earth would she ever keep that smile hidden? Natalie wondered. Maybe Celia is right. It’s been too long since I’ve been on a date. Or there’s something wrong with my hormones. My libido is going crazy.
“I’ll, uh, try whatever you recommend,” she replied softly. She coughed once into her fist and it dawned on Natalie that this mysterious outsider may actually be nervous. “I’ve heard great things about this place. I was headed to Brewed, but it’s closed on Mondays. I’d love a coffee if you have any left. And two of whatever you say is your favorite pastry.”
“Of course,” Natalie responded with a nod. “I’ll have that right up for you, ma’am.”
“Oh, it’s London,” the woman replied and then paused. “London Foster.”
Natalie smiled. “Sure thing, London,” she replied. She enjoyed how the unique name rolled off her tongue. “Calling people ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’ around these parts is just a courtesy. Southern habits die hard.”
Natalie handed her a lidded styrofoam cup over the glass counter. The bakery was silent for a split-second as their fingertips brushed against the other’s.
All those books and movies talk about a jolt of electricity Natalie thought. An electric shock when t
here’s an attraction. But I felt the warmest sensation, starting where my fingers touched hers. And it feels a lot more sensual than an electric shock.
“Thank you,” London murmured. She opened the lid and blew on her coffee. Natalie watched, transfixed, as a thin curl of steam escaped the liquid. London pursed her lips and exhaled softly on the drink again. “Have you lived here you whole life?”
“What?” Natalie asked quickly. She had been drawn to London and thoughts of touching her again, melting into the deep warmth she had experienced for a brief moment, had clouded her brain. “Sorry, uh, what did you ask?”
She rolled her eyes at herself. Nice going, Natalie.
London took a small sip of coffee. “I was curious if you’d lived around here your whole life. Or elsewhere in Texas?”
Natalie nodded. “I was born in a small town outside of San Antonio. Even smaller than this town, if you can imagine. My parents moved around a lot because my dad worked on the oil rigs. Sometimes business was booming and other times it was deathly slow. The oil and gas industries ebb and flow a lot, so people like us had to move to wherever there was work. By the time I was twelve, I’d lived in Uvalde, Odessa, San Angelo and Abilene.”
“Wow, that’s a lot of moving around for a kid,” London replied. She took another sip of coffee and met her eyes.
Natalie swallowed and glanced down at the counter. “It was, but I moved in with my Aunt Celia and her wife Jane when I was twelve. They gave me a great home and a stable life here in Weatherford. We’re right on the border of Fort Worth and I’ve been here ever since.”
“It’s beautiful here,” London remarked. “I’ve only been here a couple of days so far, but I’m excited to explore. I’ve never been to Texas,” she finished with a sheepish grin.
“And where are you from?” Natalie cocked her head and put her hands on her hips. She studied London for a moment. “Wait, don’t tell me. You’re big city, that much I can tell.”
“How can you tell?” London shot back. The smile and teasing gleam in her eye made Natalie want to say anything to continue having London’s full attention.
“It’s the way you talk, for one,” Natalie continued. “You speak fast. And you pronounce things differently, almost with an accent.”
London’s mouth dropped open. “I don’t have an accent!” She replied and then paused. “Maybe you have an accent.”
“Sorry, honey,” Natalie went on as she felt the twinkle in her eye grow. “You’re the one with the accent ‘round these parts.” She carefully placed two cream cheese brownies on a small paper plate. “By the way, these are my favorite pastries. I made them myself this morning.”
Oh my God, I called her honey Natalie thought. Her inner voice was screeching at her to shut up and to end the conversation with a shred of dignity. I am positively flirting. What is wrong with me?
“They’re on the house,” she blurted as she saw London reach for her wallet.
London opened her mouth to protest but Natalie shook her head firmly. “No, no, I won’t hear of it,” she continued before London could speak. “We like to make our guests feel welcome, so eat up and enjoy.”
London smiled again and pushed the plate back over the counter. “One of these brownies is for you,” she replied. “I wanted to apologize for how I reacted yesterday morning. I was startled and a little overtired, but I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.”
“It’s fine,” Natalie responded. “Really, it’s forgotten. You didn’t know I would be there and you had no idea your sister directed me to use the key if no one was home.”
“Half-sister,” London automatically corrected her.
Natalie wrinkled her nose. “I guess,” she replied, unsure how to respond. She met London’s eyes. “You know, you never did tell me where you were from.”
London laughed. “You never guessed.”
Natalie leaned an elbow on the counter and rested her chin in her palm as she pretended to size up the newcomer. “New York City.”
London shook her head and smiled enigmatically. “Nope.”
“Hmm,” Natalie drummed her fingertips against the counter. “Then I’m going to guess...”
“Natalie, do we have all our ingredients on the food truck?” Celia asked as she strode from the back of the bakery. She stopped short. “I apologize, I didn't realize we had a customer. Hi there.” She nodded once at London.
“Hi, I’m London Foster,” she stuck her hand over the counter and introduced herself.
Shit Natalie thought. She glanced at the baskets of dry ingredients along the counter. I was so wrapped up in London that I forgot to load the food truck. “I’m sorry, tia,” Natalie replied. “I was just getting to that.”
“I can help,” London jumped in quickly. Both Natalie and Celia turned and stared at her for a beat. Natalie’s face heated up as she felt Celia glance at her and then back at London.
“You ever work on a food truck?” Celia asked.
London shrugged and her cheeks colored. “No,” she replied slowly. “I just thought, you know, if you need the help. I’m used to keeping busy and, uh...I mean, I’m not really doing anything today.”
“Well,” Celia said after a pause. “It’s fast-paced. But we could always use an extra pair of volunteer hands to help out. We’re headed to Klyde Warren Park in Dallas. The Dallas Independent School District is promoting a social in the park tonight for teachers, so just about every food truck in the metroplex will be there. I’m sure we can put you to work.”
London nodded quickly and Natalie knew she had no idea what her aunt was talking about. “You’ll have a good time,” she tried to reassure her. “I hope. If not, at least it’ll be a good story to take back to...Where did you say you were from again?”
London grinned. “Chicago,” she finally said. “I’m from Chicago.”
Disappointment crept into Natalie’s chest as she turned to grab a container of sugar. It’s a lifetime and a world away from here she reminded herself. Besides, you don’t even know her. She may have an entire life there.
Natalie glanced at her distorted reflection on the metal counter and closed her eyes slowly. To top it off, you had a giant chocolate stain on your shirt and your sweaty hair under a baseball cap the entire time you were flirting with her. Smooth, Natalie, real smooth.
CHAPTER 9
London had no idea what had come over her or why she had offered to help on a hot, cramped food truck in a crowded park. You know why she told herself sternly. And it has everything to do with the gorgeous woman exactly three steps to your left.
She stole a glance at Natalie, who was ringing someone up on the cash register. The small ordering window allowed for some airflow inside the food truck, but the warm oven made the truck even hotter than it was outside. Natalie’s aunt Celia was baking several dozen chocolate cupcakes to replace the several dozen that were already sold.
She surveyed the park and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. Klyde Warren Park was built above the interstate smack in the center of downtown Dallas. Skyscrapers not unlike the ones she had left behind in Chicago surrounded them. Families set up picnics in the large grass field while others sat in the shade near pop-up bookshelves or beneath trees. On one side of the park, a jazz band played on a stage at the foreground while kids ran around a play area at the other side.
London stood and began restocking an ice chest with bottles of water. She had already scraped her hair back into a ponytail and changed into a forest-green Mission Bakery t-shirt. She had done everything that Celia and Natalie asked of her and realized there was something much more freeing about working on a food truck instead of the sterile office she was used to.
Natalie turned to London and nodded, gesturing for her to join her at the register. She tore a slip of paper from the pad and passed it down the counter to Celia. Her aunt glanced at it and turned from a metal mixing bowl to prepare the order. London stood next to Natalie and watched her work in awe. Her hands mo
ved rapidly as she jotted orders, all the while punching keys in the cash register, sliding cards through machines and making small talk with the customers.
She really has it down to a science London thought, impressed. This woman knows what she’s doing.
“I love those strawberry cake pops that y’all make,” a middle-aged woman said enthusiastically. “I don’t suppose you have any of those on your truck?”
Natalie smiled apologetically. “Not today, ma’am,” she replied. “But we do have those at the bakery. If you stop in sometime, I’ll have a batch just for you.”
“Oh, I will,” the woman said with a nod. “I’ll take a vanilla-raspberry cupcake and a bottle of water then.”
“Sure thing,” Natalie replied. Her right hand scribbled furiously over the pad. “Will this be cash or credit today?”
“I’ll pay with cash,” the woman responded as she fished in the front pocket of her shorts.
London watched as Natalie slid another order sheet down the metal counter with her right hand and hit two keys on the register with her left. She turned back to the customer and grinned. “That’ll be four dollars and eighty-five cents today.”
She took a wrinkled five-dollar bill from the woman and punched three keys on the cash register. The drawer sprang open with a light bing and Natalie pulled out a few coins. “Fifteen cents is your change,” she finished. “If you walk down to the small window on your left, she has that cupcake and water ready for you.”
London glanced over her shoulder and saw Celia place a bottle of water and a cupcake on a styrofoam plate on the sill. She looked back at Natalie, who wiped her hands together resolutely.
“And that...” she began as she gently closed the cash register door. “...is how it’s done.”
London shook her head. Natalie sure is something else she thought. I could watch her all day. She has such a sweet, friendly way with people. She wanted to know more, hear more and learn more. There was something about Natalie that had caught her off-guard, capturing her full attention, and she was thoroughly enjoying it.