A Match Made on Main Street

by Olivia Miles

  The best.

  Now she stood in front of the rubble, the pieces of the life she had tried to build for herself, all on her own.

  “You know where we went wrong, don’t you?” She slid him a sad smile. “We should have just stayed friends.”

  “I thought that, too. Sometimes I still do. But I know that wasn’t possible.” His eyes locked with hers and her heart skipped a beat. “We had something, Anna. More than a friendship. More than an attraction. We had a connection. We still do.”

  “Please,” she scoffed. “You have a connection with half the women in the state of Vermont. You showed up to my family’s home last night, to my sister’s engagement party, with your latest fling.”

  His eyes sparked. “Says the woman coming back from a date tonight.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you sound jealous.”

  “And what if I were?” His gaze rested on her mouth. He was suddenly close. Too close.

  She took a step backward. “I’d say it wouldn’t matter.”

  But it did matter. A lot.

  “Do you know how often I’ve watched you across a crowded room, or from a few blocks down the street? It’s taken everything in me not to shout out your name.”

  She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. He was telling her everything she had wanted to hear, words she had never thought would ever be voiced, thoughts she’d never dreamed he would share, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t change the past. It didn’t change a damn thing.

  “What about Nicole?” she pressed.

  He shook his head. “We’ve just gone out a few times. She’s not looking for anything serious.”

  “And you are?” Anna gave him a withering smile.

  He looked her straight in the eye, finally breaking the distance between their bodies. “I don’t know what I’m looking for, Anna.”

  She gritted her teeth. “Of course not,” she said bitterly, angry at herself for thinking for one fleeting, glorious moment that he did. She wrapped her arms around herself as a breeze tore down the street.

  “I don’t know what I’m looking for, Anna,” he said again, and something in the insistence in his tone made her stand to attention. “I just know that when I was with you, I was happy, and I haven’t felt that way since.”

  She stared at him, forcing herself to stay strong, to focus on the pain. The hurt. The loss. “You dumped me, Mark.”

  “Please don’t use that word.”

  “Why not? It fits, doesn’t it? You tossed me aside, chucked all our plans. Left me alone to deal with the fallout.”

  He looked at her sharply. “What fallout?”

  Her breath caught. She’d said too much.

  “What do you mean, Anna?”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head forcefully, backing up. Her heart was hammering, and the chill was gone, replaced with a rush of heat that flooded her face. “Nothing.”

  She could tell by his expression that he didn’t believe her, and she didn’t trust herself to keep her secret to herself right now.

  “I should really go,” she said.

  He showed no signs of turning to leave, or saying anything at all. He looked lost, like a shadow of the man she’d seen at the party last night, gloating as he did the rounds with Nicole Johnson on his arm.

  She opened her mouth to speak, to ask him what was really wrong, where his head was, why he was staring through the rubble of this old place like he was staring into a grave. It was her loss to bear, but from the pain that furrowed his brow, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

  She stopped herself. Letting Mark in would only lead to more disappointment. She’d gotten a taste of that last night. It was time to start moving forward once and for all. She’d opened Fireside to show him she could do it. That she didn’t need him. But she’d rebuild it for herself. Anna turned and walked away without a word.

  CHAPTER

  19

  So, Anna was avoiding him again, was she? Mark heaved a weary sigh and hung his apron on the hook near the back kitchen wall. Another Sunday brunch was rolling to a close, and the day was wide open, but despite the usual thrill he took in the opportunity to kick back on a warm spring day, Mark couldn’t deny the twinge of disappointment he felt over Anna’s absence this morning.

  Ridiculous. Now was the time to be moving forward, not slipping backward. He was better off without the temptation of her presence; the mere fact that he’d spent the better half of the last few hours glancing up every time the door jingled was proof of that. If you didn’t get close, you didn’t get let down. So why was he suddenly feeling like all he wanted to do was get close to Anna, and not just physically?

  Mark grabbed his keys and called over his shoulder to Vince, “I’m heading out. Call if you need me.”

  It didn’t take long to walk the few blocks down Main to Second Avenue. He paused outside the building, listening for voices. Hearing nothing, he pushed aside the tarp that covered the old doorframe and entered the building.

  The room was cleared out, the floor stripped, and more tarps hung near the back, separating the kitchen. The walls had been knocked down, but the great stone hearth remained to his right, just as it had been all those years ago, the last time he’d been here, on his tenth birthday.

  His mother had worn her best dress, and even Brett, only eight at the time, had used his best table manners. Mark had watched in awe as one beautiful and vibrantly colored dish after another was brought to the tables around him. He’d ordered a steak, ate every last bit of it, and still managed to fit in the chocolate lava cake his father sent out for dessert.

  That day was bitter juxtaposition to the way his life was permanently altered only a few short months later.

  Gritting his teeth, Mark turned back to the door. He shouldn’t have come in here. There were too many hard memories. Too many bad feelings.

  “Mark? I thought that was you.” He glanced up to see his mother coming in through the kitchen, smiling in surprise.

  Mark fought to release the tightness in his expression. “I saw your car out front. Thought I’d say hello.”

  “I was just seeing how the kitchen was coming along. They’ve made great progress. Did you want to see?”

  Mark stiffened. “Nah, that’s okay.” He rolled back on his heels, letting his gaze float over the room once more.

  Sharon did the same. “It’s weird to see it like this, isn’t it?” she mused, catching his eye.

  Mark rubbed his jaw. Damn straight it was weird. And depressing as hell. Deciding to dodge any mention of his father or Tavern on Main, he said, “I suppose.”

  “Anna really transformed the place. You should stop in sometime, check out the competition,” his mother joked.

  Mark nodded thoughtfully. “Guess I didn’t see a reason to ever come in here.” He’d meant it twofold, but his mother couldn’t know about his feelings for Anna. She just knew the main reason—that it stirred up too many memories of his father—and the hurt that sparked in her eyes made Mark regret his words.

  He was being self-indulgent, and he’d promised himself a long time ago that when it came to his family, he’d never put himself first the way his father had done.

  “This place wasn’t always about hard times,” Sharon said quietly. “I can still remember when your father opened it.” She paused before adding, almost to herself, “That was a happy day.”

  Mark hesitated. His mother never spoke of the past. A part of him yearned to ask for details of a time when his dad’s restaurant was the source of hope and excitement, not bitterness and stress, to go back to the memory that lit her eyes and left a sad smile on her lips, but just as quickly, anger set it.

  “I don’t know how you can stand to come in here. Why you held on to it at all.”

  Sharon looked startled. After a pause she said, “It was a smart business decision.”

  Mark knew she was right. After his father split, leaving them so deep in debt that Sharon ha
d been forced to take a mortgage on their home and start working at a diner for minimum wage, the rental income from the building was their only hope of long-term security, even if it was a short-term problem at first.

  “This place is a part of my life, I guess you could say.” Sharon shrugged. “The good times and the bad.”

  “I don’t remember many good times in this place,” Mark said, forcing out the image of the three of them sitting by the hearth, his mother looking so young and radiant in her red dress, her brown hair pulled back to show off the earrings she wore only for special occasions.

  “If Dad had never owned the place, if the restaurant wasn’t his life, then things might have been different.” Mark scowled.

  “Then you might never have become a chef,” Sharon pointed out.

  Mark balled a fist at his side. “No. That has nothing to do with him.” But it did. For years he’d struggled with his decision to follow in his father’s path, the one that had ended in their family’s destruction, but the one that had given him the only memories of his father he would ever have. His father was always busy, always putting Tavern first, working long hours and missing Little League games and holidays. None of it mattered to Mark back then, though. Their time in the kitchen, working together, testing new recipes and tasting new foods, meant more than any school event.

  He stared past his mother and into the kitchen. He couldn’t stand the thought of walking in there, finding it empty, finding another person overseeing the stations, reminding him that his dad was gone, and that all those moments together, right there, a mere thirty feet away, were over.

  “So, how are things coming along for the contest?” Sharon asked, her smile bringing him back to the present. She’d always been a master of focusing on the positive things in life. He supposed with all she’d gone through, she didn’t have much choice.

  Mark gave a small shrug. “Only six days to go. We’re giving it the best shot we have. Hope it’s enough.” And God, did he. It was his only chance to move forward, to step out of this limbo, to put all these ghosts behind him and do what he’d set out to do once and for all.

  “Well, I hope you both win. It’s been a tough year for Anna, first with losing her father and then this place…” Sharon tutted. “I know how it feels to lose everything all at once.”

  Mark frowned. It saddened him when his mother talked like this, reminding him of the struggle, of the pain his father had brought on her, on so many levels.

  “I’m sure she’ll land on her feet,” he replied, realizing how much he wished it to be true. He’d knocked Anna down, disappointed her, stolen a dream from her, and she’d had to pick up the pieces he left in his wake.

  She’d done a hell of a job of it, though. This café was the trendiest spot in town.

  “Oh, I’m sure she will,” Sharon sighed and walked over to the fireplace. He wondered if she was sharing the same memory he had every time he looked at it. Turning to face him, her brown eyes suddenly looked a notch brighter than usual. “My, look at this old place. Fireside was such a success; I’m sure it will be again in no time. It’s been the most secure tenant we’ve ever had in the space… Just the kind of place the town needed, really.”

  Mark considered this, knowing his mother had a point, even if both of them were probably wondering how life might have been if Tavern had met the same response from the town. It had its glory, but then it all went south.

  He felt his body tense. Maybe it was the sawdust, or the faint smell of fresh paint from the kitchen, but he suddenly felt like he was suffocating, and he couldn’t breathe. Memories were choking him, sucking the life out of him, pulling him back to a time and place he’d rather forget, of a life that had been a façade, a family that had never stood a chance in hell. “I should probably go. You coming?”

  “Anna’s on her way over, so I’ll wait for a bit.” Sharon bent down and picked up a nail from the floor.

  Mark rubbed the back of his neck, resenting the way his stomach roiled at the thought of seeing Anna again. They hadn’t left on happy terms the night before, and her absence this morning left him unsettled. He shouldn’t have brought Nicole to the party, but he knew why he’d done it. To see if Anna cared. And from the looks of it, she did.

  He wasn’t sure how he felt about that now.

  He crossed the room, deeper into this box of memories, and gave his mother a quick hug before turning on his heel and striding purposefully to the door, not daring to absorb his periphery as he bolted into the warm sunshine, right into Anna.

  “Mark?” Anna’s sharp blue eyes were more blinding than the afternoon sun. She darted her gaze from the restaurant to him and back again. “Were you looking for me?”

  He jammed his hands in his pockets, trying to fight the rush of desire that heated his blood as he raked his gaze over the tight gray T-shirt that scooped well below her fragile collarbone, revealing a hint of her soft breasts, and cinched her tight waist. He forced his eyes back to hers. “I was just talking to my mom.”

  “You never came in before—”

  “Well, you wouldn’t have wanted me to.” The tone was sharper than he’d intended, revealing more pain than he knew existed, and he regretted the flash of surprise that passed over her expression. He rolled back on his heels, blowing out a breath. “It looks good.”

  A brittle laugh cut the silence. “No. It doesn’t. The kitchen should be up and running soon, at least.” She let her shoulders fall as she inspected the scaffolding that covered the brick storefront. “I tell myself it will look better than ever in no time, but it’s hard to believe that some days. I don’t like coming by here. Maybe that sounds silly.”

  “It doesn’t sound silly at all.” His voice was low, gruff, and he felt his pulse lurch as their eyes met once more. For a moment, she softened, and he thought he saw a flicker of understanding pass through her turquoise irises. Just as quickly she sniffed, and straightened her back. “I missed you at the diner this morning,” he said.

  She darted her eyes. “I couldn’t sleep last night. It made sense to just get started in my own kitchen.”

  He wondered if that was all there was to it. “We leave for Cedar Valley on Friday. Are we practicing tonight?”

  “Of course,” she retorted, but he sensed a hesitation. “We need all the practice we can get if we’re going to stand a shot at this thing.”

  “You nervous?

  She let out a breath. “Very. It would… well, it would make everything a lot easier to have that kind of prize money.”

  “It sure would,” Mark said, rolling back on his heels. Fifty thousand dollars. He could practically feel it in his hands. The freedom it would buy.

  Anna was looking at him with interest. “You know, you never told me. What do you plan to do with the prize money if you win?”

  His attention snapped back to the present. “I haven’t really thought about that yet,” he lied.

  She arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

  He shrugged, refusing to give in the way she expected. He wasn’t like her or Luke or any of the other people he knew who could make a plan and stick to it. He couldn’t depend on the outcome the way they could; he had to reserve a space for setback.

  “I’ve got some debts to pay off,” he said vaguely, even though it wasn’t true. “Maybe I’ll take a vacation, spruce up the diner.”

  She looked unconvinced, but said nothing more on the matter. Sighing, she shrugged. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. What you do with your life really isn’t any of my business.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but it was too late. Anna was already distracted, looking over his shoulder at something in the distance, and from the look on her face, she wasn’t happy at what she saw.

  “Oh, there you two are!”

  Rosemary bustled down the sidewalk, her long, paisley printed skirt flowing behind her. Anna glanced desperately across the street, wishing she could dart away, but it was too late now. They’d been spotted.

&n
bsp; “Brainstorming ideas for the contest, hmm?” Rosemary’s cheeks were flushed as she glanced from Anna to Mark. “I’m sure Cedar Valley is just breathtaking in the spring, what with the flowers, the birds… the bees.” She winked.

  Mark shot Anna a glance and she bit back a smile. She didn’t want to share any private jokes, didn’t want to feel a special bond. What they’d shared was over, and she needed to remember that.

  “Only a few more days now!” Rosemary continued eagerly.

  A few more days, and then it would all be over. Her kitchen at Fireside would be at least functional by then, the contest would be over, and her time with Mark would come to an end.

  She ignored the tightness in her stomach and kept her eyes trained on Rosemary, who was blinking in expectation. This contest did mean a lot to the poor woman, though God knew why. Anna frowned when she realized that she’d be letting Rosemary down in addition to everyone else, even though no one other than Jane had an inkling of her financial mess.

  It was all so damn frustrating! Entering and winning was her only hope, because she was desperate. Yes, desperate. She’d have to be to have agreed to spend this much time with her ex.

  “You must be working so hard on your recipes. Late nights, I imagine…” Rosemary’s blue eyes glistened in the sun.

  “Too many,” Anna replied. Her face grew hot as she felt Mark’s and his aunt’s eyes turn on her.

  “Oh, well… maybe you should mix it up a bit. Have a little fun in the kitchen,” Rosemary suggested.

  “I don’t have time for fun. Or games,” Anna added, glancing at Mark. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to meet with Sharon. A contractor’s stopping by soon and we need to go over some changes to the plans.”

  “You’re really eager to get back to work there, aren’t you?” Mark asked.

  Anna gave him a level stare. “More than you know.”

  She turned on her heel, but a sudden yelp made her jump. She turned, her eyes widening when she saw Rosemary hunched forward.