by Olivia Miles
Anna pressed her fingers to her forehead and closed her eyes briefly before taking another sip of wine. “That. Well… I’m still wondering if there’s another way.” She’d been thinking about it all afternoon, when she wasn’t busy worrying about finding contractors, dealing with insurance claims, and protecting her loyal staff. And, oh, covering that loan, not to mention her apartment rent and other bills.
“Another way?” Grace frowned. “Is this because of Mark? I know you two have never really gotten along, but he’s being nice, Anna. He’s offering you the use of his kitchen!”
“I know,” Anna sighed, looking away. The room was buzzing, and all around her were groups of people—laughing, smiling, happy people. People who didn’t have to wake up tomorrow and face the person who had broken their heart and then stomped all over it.
Alone in a kitchen with Mark, day after day… She couldn’t think of anything worse. Or, sadly, anything more desirable.
“I still don’t understand why you and Mark don’t get along,” Jane commented. “When you were younger you got along just fine. I thought you guys were friends at culinary school, too. Is the restaurant business in Briar Creek really that competitive?”
When their friendship took a romantic turn, Anna and Mark had agreed to keep their relationship to themselves, fearing that the bond between their families would only add unnecessary pressure. Later, she was grateful for their decision—it meant she could walk around town without being reminded of what they had once shared. Well, in theory.
Jane was looking at her with interest, and for a brief moment Anna considered telling her sisters everything. She could just imagine the surprise on their faces when she told them that, actually, she and Mark had gotten along very well at one point in time. Well enough to plan a future together. A future that had never happened.
Her heart was beginning to pound at the memory of their breakup, bringing every painful detail back to the surface. He’d been in her arms one day, flirting with some girl the next, acting like he didn’t care, like it was so easy for him to just move on with his life, to forget her, forget the summer they’d shared, the plans they’d put into place to open a restaurant together. Better not to think about it, she’d told herself a long time ago. She couldn’t change the past and undo the fatal mistake of trusting the wrong man, but she sure as hell could make certain she never repeated it again.
“I was thinking of trying to do some of the baking at home.” As she heard her words, she knew she was being unrealistic, and newfound dread tightened in her chest.
Grace tipped her head. “No offense, Anna, but your kitchen is pretty small. And you only have one oven. The diner has an industrial-sized kitchen.”
“Besides, isn’t there some health code about stuff like that?” Jane asked.
Of course she couldn’t rely solely on her kitchen. A couple dozen muffins, sure, but enough pastries and scones and gourmet sandwiches to feed any loyal customers who might transfer their support to the Annex while Fireside was rebuilt? Impossible.
She groaned inwardly and took another sip of her drink, waiting for its sweet effect to take hold. She could still remember when she opened Fireside Café; this summer would mark its sixth anniversary. She’d built that business from the ground up, pinched and saved for it and worked for nineteen hours a day sometimes to keep it going. Its success had surpassed her wildest hopes, and she knew in time the Annex would, too. Grace was counting on her. Their dad, God rest his soul, was, too.
She’d come too far to let Mark win now. He’s not worth it.
“You’re right,” she said breezily. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s just a pain to share a kitchen, especially when it’s not your own.” Especially when you’re sharing it with your ex.
She began idly folding a cocktail napkin into the shape of a small sailboat to keep from looking at her sisters. Opening up about Mark was never going to be a good idea. Grace would tell Luke and Luke would tell Mark, and the last thing she needed was for Mark to think she was still licking her wounds. Or that she ever had.
And oh, had she…
“Speak of the devil.” Jane jutted her chin toward the door. Sure enough, Mark was standing in the doorway, casually combing a hand through his dark brown hair as his date for the evening tap danced around him in heels that were way too high for this slick floor.
Grace craned her neck to get a better look. “He’s seeing her now?”
Jane nodded while Anna eyed Nicole Johnson, the local preschool teacher, from across the room, feeling a sickness coat her stomach. She couldn’t help it; she was jealous. Jealous of a girl who would no doubt be in tears by next weekend, but jealous nonetheless of the joy in her face at this moment.
Mark had that kind of effect on people. She should know.
“Sophie told me that all Miss Johnson can talk about is her new boyfriend,” Jane said.
“Well, that’s not a very appropriate thing to discuss with a group of four-year-olds.” Anna eyed her empty glass and signaled to the bartender for another.
“On the house,” he said, tucking a square napkin under a fresh glass of Chardonnay.
Anna shifted in her seat. “Oh. I couldn’t… Thanks.” She forced a tight smile. She understood. When bad things happened to people, you wanted to do what you could to help, no matter how small the effort, and in Briar Creek, people pulled together in times of need.
Even Mark, she thought, and her stomach rolled over at the thought of walking into that diner tomorrow morning. What would she even say to him? Now, after all these years of practiced silence? She’d be forced to interact, to let a wall down. She’d worked so hard to keep it up.
She let her attention roam back to Mark, knowing she should be used to seeing him with a date by now. Nicole was dressed in a sequined miniskirt, fishnet tights, and a transparent tank top that left little to the imagination. And those shoes! Anna wouldn’t be surprised if by the end of the night Mark had to carry her to her front door. She narrowed her eyes at the thought and took another sip of wine.
“A few of the kids have apparently asked if she has a husband,” Jane said, “and she’s been sure to let them know she does have someone special in her life.”
Beside her, Grace snorted. “For about three weeks! Just a few months ago she had her sights set on Luke. Now Mark. Who’s next?”
“Exactly. Who’s next? It’s only a matter of days before Mark gets bored and forgets all about her,” Anna said, surprised at the sharpness in her tone. For a strange second, she felt sorry for Nicole. She was too caught up in Mark’s charms to realize his true nature.
Her sisters blinked at her and, after a quick exchange of glances, looked down at their glasses. Anna turned away from the spectacle and went back to folding her napkin—a nervous habit she’d developed from spending too much time in restaurants. Anything to get her mind off the man somewhere in this room, the man who could pretend she didn’t even exist, who couldn’t even come up to her and say hello, even after what she had been through. Even though they were about to be sharing a kitchen. Even though they’d once shared so much more than that.
“Hello.”
She jumped. Her hands, which had just reached for the stem of her wineglass, now tipped it over, and the cool, golden liquid flowed freely over the polished surface of the bar. The bartender quickly grabbed a rag as Anna dabbed at what she could.
Anna stiffened as Mark’s hand slid beside hers, helping with the effort. She could feel the heat of his body close to hers, the hard wall of his chest pressed against her back. She heaved a breath. Her heart was pounding. She hadn’t been this close to him in—
“Something sweet!” Nicole’s high-pitched voice cut through her thoughts, forcing her back to reality. Anna blinked and shifted her gaze to Mark. The air locked in her chest when she saw him watching her, his deep-set eyes locked with hers, his face so close she could skim his lips with her own if she wanted to and God, did she want to. Badly.
Sh
e swallowed hard and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, breaking his hold on her. “Thanks,” she managed.
“Any time.” His gaze lingered, his voice as smooth as the purr of an engine, and Anna felt something inside her uncoil, bringing back all those feelings she had tried so hard to deny. She lingered on his mouth, feeling her stomach twist as she replayed their first kiss. They both had jobs on the Cape that summer, working at one of those seasonal spots on the beach. They’d gone out after their shift ended, just like they had every night that first week there, but that night something was different. The sun was fading, and the sky glowed pink and orange. Waves lapped at their bare feet as they walked along the coast, falling into a natural step—it was always so natural with Mark. She was laughing as he told her about something that had happened that day—some funny conversation with a customer—but instead of joining in, he’d stopped talking, and watched her. The merriment left his eyes, replaced with something far more intense, and suddenly he was kissing her, his lips gently exploring hers, his hand light on her waist at first and then reaching back to draw her close. She hadn’t had time to react or hesitate. She knew how he was—that he bounced from girl to girl, never staying with one for long—but somehow none of that mattered. None of it counted.
But they were different. She was different. Those girls might come and go, but she was his constant. She was his friend. For two years leading up to that kiss, he’d been her confidant, her ally. He wouldn’t sabotage that, she’d told herself. He couldn’t.
Her breath caught now, and she gave him a tight smile. His eyes were hooded, studying her closely, but with a lift of his chin, he turned. Just like that, gone again.
“Hey.” Luke appeared at the bar, leaning down to give Grace a casual kiss, and something in their understated ease of the gesture made Anna’s spirits sink further. She’d told herself over the years that she liked being alone, that it was better that way, safer—and maybe it was. Wasn’t anything better than having your heart broken?
But that wasn’t the only reason she was alone. She hadn’t just lost Mark. She’d also lost that tiny part of him that had grown inside her, the part that could never be replaced. The part she still clung to, even if Mark was long gone.
Luke ordered a beer and brought it to his lips. “Why don’t we grab a table?”
Anna stifled a sigh and ordered another drink. She was going to need it more than ever now that Mark was in the room. The pub was thankfully dark, illuminated by flickering votive candles nesting in amber-colored glass. Her eyes darted as she followed her sisters to a table, searching for any hint of those dark waves, that grin that lit dark brown eyes, that deep roar of laughter that brought her back to a time she should have forgotten and emotions she had tried so hard to resist.
He was at the far end of the pub, his elbows splayed on the table as he leaned in to his date. Suddenly he looked up, his gaze lingering ever so swiftly in her direction, before snapping to Luke.
Luke stopped to chat with his cousin, and Anna watched with a heaviness in her chest as he said something to Grace, who nodded in agreement, and then bent down to say something to a person at a neighboring table. Soon chairs were being dragged to Mark’s table, and the only one looking more miserable than Anna felt was Nicole.
“You know, I think I’ll take a walk,” Anna said to Jane, who immediately looked alarmed.
“What? No, please stay, Anna. It will do you good to be around friends right now.”
Anna eyed Mark warily. “It’s hitting me in waves, Jane. I just—”
Jane gripped her arm and met her gaze. “I know. Believe me; I know what it’s like to have something you’ve poured your entire life into snatched out from under you.”
Anna nodded. It was just a business, she told herself. Just a café. She had insurance; it would be built again. It was just money. Jane had lost her family. Her husband. Everything she had imagined her life would always be.
She knew that feeling all too well. More than her sister could ever know.
“I don’t mean to sound shallow,” she said. Her eyes met Mark’s and she quickly looked away as her pulse sped up. “That café was all I had.” Left, she finished privately. It was all she had left.
“And you’ll have it again,” Jane told her. “Feeling sorry for yourself won’t help.”
She was right, and sitting in an empty apartment with only her dark thoughts was the exact behavior Anna had worked so hard to avoid. Deciding there was no way to duck out early, she slid into a chair safely next to Grace.
“Mind moving over there so I can sit next to Grace?” Luke asked.
Anna glanced up at him, horror stricken. Luke stared down at her expectantly, a frown knitting his brow as her hesitation lingered.
“Me?” she asked faintly.
“Just move across,” Grace pressed.
Gritting her teeth, Anna complied, refusing to meet Mark’s eye as she slid her body to within inches of his. The length of her thigh skimmed his, and her stomach fluttered before she quickly crossed her leg over the other. She reached for her wineglass, frowning at the tremble in her own fingers, and then cursed as she sloshed the contents. Quick to react, Mark grabbed the glass just before it shattered on the table.
“That’s twice in one night.” Mark laughed easily and set the empty glass upright.
Anna laughed under her breath to hide the embarrassment that flamed her cheeks. “It’s been a rough day. I’m not myself.”
It was perhaps the most she had spoken to him in years, and certainly the most she had revealed in as long. She’d let him in, even a little, and now she wanted to snatch it all back.
She forced herself to look up, expecting to see a twinkle in his eye, a victorious smirk for having finally broken her down, but his mouth was a straight line, and his deep-set eyes were clouded in confusion. His attention rested on her long enough to leave her unsettled, and she looked away, busying herself with the sopping napkins.
Mark leaned back in his chair and signaled a passing waitress. “I’ll have another beer. The lady will have another Chardonnay. In a sippy cup, please.”
Despite herself, Anna laughed, but something deep within herself broke at the same time. It was Mark, the same old irresistible, irreplaceable Mark. Only Mark could make her smile on a day when her world was crashing down around her. But then, Mark always had that special power to lift her up. And tear her down.
He glanced at her sidelong, his lips curving into that slow, easy grin that made her stomach uncoil. “You’re on a bit of a bad luck streak today. Figured I’d help you out.”
“Thanks for that.” She stiffened slightly. “Thanks for letting me use your kitchen, too. I’d use my home kitchen, but it’s pretty cramped.”
Mark shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like there’s any way around it then.”
Anna narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t realize it was a problem.”
“It’s not.” Mark turned to Nicole, who was pouting and twisting a blond ringlet around her finger.
“Marky… maybe we should go,” she whined, sliding a pointed glance in Anna’s direction.
Anna managed something of a smile. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your date.”
“Oh, this isn’t a date,” Mark said quickly.
Anna tipped her head, holding Mark’s eyes with hers, noticing the way his jaw had tightened. Beside him, Nicole was blinking quickly, but there was a decided quiver to her chin, and she shook slightly when she managed a brave smile.
“You never change,” Anna muttered as Nicole excused herself to the bathroom.
“Why should I?” Mark countered.
Anna stared at him flatly, wanting to believe the grin was there to mask the guilt, that he couldn’t really be this callous, that the guy who could once make her laugh until her ribs ached and who could take her so tenderly in his arms was a real person under this untouchable façade.
The waitress appeared with their drinks, and Anna took her glass, holding it carefully
by the stem. Across the room she noticed Nicole burst out of the bathroom, hiding her face with the side of her hand as she hurried to the front door.
“Your date just left,” Anna informed him.
“I told you—”
“She’s not your date. Fine. Well, Nicole just left.”
Mark said nothing and took sip of his beer. There was a sadness to his profile. An edge that she hadn’t seen in a long time. For a brief moment Anna wondered if she was wrong. If he had changed. Then she thought of the poor girl outside the bar, most likely crying into her phone, at the mercy of some girlfriend to give her a ride home, and she scowled.
“You should apologize to her,” Anna scolded, realizing the irony of this situation.
“Nothing to apologize for,” Mark replied evenly. “She knows where I stand. Can I help it if she wants something more?”
More than he could give.
Anna gave him a withering look and turned back to her sisters, but Mark cut in, “Look, I’m not here to fight, Anna, but I don’t like feeling judged.”
Ever so slowly, she turned to him, an eyebrow arched. “Judged?”
His eyes roamed her face. “I know you think I’m some kind of jerk.”
Anna felt her lips spread into a brittle smile. “You’re right. I do.”
“I never knew you were such a petty grudge holder, Anna.”
“And I never knew you were such heartless ass, Mark.” The relief felt from expressing herself quickly turned to anger and a pain so deep, she thought it might break her. How had it all come to this? Harsh, cutting words at the person she’d once loved the most. As much as she wanted to beat on his chest, lash out with all the hurt that brewed just below the surface, a bigger part of her wanted to tell him everything, to make him understand.