Déjà Date

by Hatler, Susan

  Every cell in my body froze. “The doctors said that’s a possibility?”

  Hanging his head, he nodded. “I’ve been having heart palpitations.”

  I gasped. “Oh, Bernie.”

  “You can see now why I’m tripping over my own two feet.” He gestured toward the floor. “I don’t know what to do. The doctor tells me that I need to rest completely for at least two weeks, but how can I relax at all if I’m leaving my beloved bakery in the hands of a virtual stranger?”

  My heart squeezed. “If it’s the doctor’s advice, then you must find a way to rest for the next two weeks. You can’t mess around with health. That’s all there is to it.”

  He shook his head, then sifted through the papers. “In order to relax, I need someone I trust. But how will I find a person like this on such short notice?”

  I bit my lip. Volunteering to run Bernie’s Bakery was the absolute last thing I should do. It wouldn’t pay nearly as much as a job in the business world, which I needed to regain my independence, and it would be a plus if I could afford a place to live where cat hair didn’t coat the carpet. I didn’t envy Ginger having pets, because the pain I’d felt when I’d lost my childhood dog, Checkers, was nothing I cared to feel again. I even kept my distance from her little meowzers so I wouldn’t get attached to them.

  I glanced down at Bernie, who was staring hopelessly at the résumé on top of the pile. Dark circles stood out beneath his eyes, his skin looked pale, and his handsome face seemed to have aged a decade since the last time I’d seen him.

  “I’ll do it,” I blurted, knowing Bernie’s health was at stake. He had always been there for me. Shortly after his wife had left him and moved away with their son (aka: my former best friend), my dad had died. Bernie had come to the funeral, offering to help with whatever my mom and I needed. He’d also sent us a basket of baked goodies every week for a year. He’d been an amazing friend over the years and a wonderful father figure.

  I would not desert him in his time of need.

  His eyes widened as he slowly lifted his gaze to meet mine. “You’ll do what?”

  “I will manage your bakery for two weeks, while you rest and get healthy,” I said, ignoring the look of confusion Mary Ann was throwing at me.

  “Thank you, Melinda.” He smiled, his eyes watering for a moment. “You’re very kind to offer to help, but you have a blossoming career. Your mom has told me about each and every one of your promotions. She couldn’t be more proud of you. I can’t let you sacrifice your success for me.”

  “Apparently my mom hasn’t told you about my current status,” I said, thinking about how odd that was, since she usually stopped in several times each week to grab a cup of coffee and chat with Bernie. “When’s the last time you spoke with her?”

  “I’m afraid it has been awhile since she’s come in. Just like with you. Truthfully, I’ve been a little worried about you both.”

  My brows came together. I hadn’t been coming to this neighborhood because I was trying desperately to find a new job. But why had she stopped coming into Bernie’s? Especially since my mom was the queen of routine.

  I took a deep breath. “My employer laid me off seven weeks ago. I’ve been searching for a permanent job, which I still haven’t found. So it’s not a problem for me to work here temporarily while you get the rest you need. I can start today after I drop by my mom’s house,” I said, my nerves frazzled at the thought of asking to dip into my inheritance money.

  His brows rose quizzically. “Are you absolutely sure it wouldn’t inconvenience you too much?”

  My eyes blurred, touched that he was thinking of me when his own situation was so desperate. “It’s only two weeks, and I’m happy to do it. Really. You remember how much I loved working here.”

  “If you’re absolutely sure.” His expression filled with emotion as he rose to his feet, grabbed my hand, and placed it between his two palms. “This is the answer to my prayers. I’ll pay you the same rate as I would a permanent manager.”

  “It’s a deal.” I squeezed his hand, smiling at the relief evident his eyes. “This afternoon I’ll come back and you can catch me up on on all of your current procedures. And don’t worry while you’re gone, because your bakery will be in good hands.”

  “With you running the show, I have no doubt.” He released my hand, picked up his stack of papers, and turned back to me. “If Nate gives you any trouble because I put you in charge of managing the bakery instead of him, please let me know and I’ll take care of it. He’s being moody, as usual.”

  “Um, Nate?” A chill ran down my spine. Bernie couldn’t be talking about his rebellious son who’d moved to Paris with his mom when I was fourteen, leaving me with the bittersweet memory of my first real kiss and a shattered heart.

  “Nate returned to Sacramento a couple weeks ago due to my condition. He’d been surfing in Bali when I called to inform him of the doctor’s findings. You know he’s a photographer of extreme adventures, right? His business is even online now.”

  My mouth had opened, but no words were coming out. Nate was here? In Sac?

  “Anyway, he insists on running the bakery for me, but he has no experience. Plus, unlike you, he’s never shown any interest in the bakery. So I know he’s only offering in order to be helpful. He much prefers one grand adventure after another, as you’ll recall. I’m sure you will be a good influence on him, since you value stability.”

  Me? Influence bullheaded Nate Carter? Not likely. Against my better judgment, I’d given in to my secret feelings for him the summer before freshman year in high school when he’d cornered me on the swing set at the park by my house. I’d gone to the park to be alone since we’d just put down my sweet dog, Checkers—named after my favorite childhood game.

  The memory of our kiss flooded my brain, sending tingles down my arms. Then my stomach steeled. One amazing kiss, then I’d never heard from him again. Not even so much as a postcard since he’d moved away a week later.

  My stomach churned at the thought of seeing Nate, but I couldn’t let it show. Any additional stress would only worsen Bernie’s condition.

  Unwillingly, my fists balled and my eyes narrowed. “Oh, I can handle Nate.”

  “That sounds like an enticing proposition,” a distinctive male voice came from behind me. “But shouldn’t I at least take you out to lunch first?”

  I spun around to find myself face-to-face with the leather jacket-wearing hottie that Mary Ann had called every woman’s fantasy. Our gazes locked and I stared into jade-green eyes that flickered with emotion. My breath caught in my throat.

  Standing before me was Bernie’s son, Nate Carter. My first crush and greatest heartbreak all rolled into one. And I’d just agreed to manage his dad’s bakery for the next two weeks, which meant I’d be stuck seeing plenty of him.

  I totally should’ve ordered the fudge bar.

  Chapter Two

  As I stared into Nate Carter’s twinkling jade-green eyes, something stirred in my belly, and it took every ounce of effort I had to maintain a composed demeanor. If a guy breaks your heart, you don’t want him to fall off his motorcycle or anything, but you certainly don’t want your legs to turn to jelly just because he’s standing in front of you thirteen years later.

  So not right.

  “Hello, Nate.” My tone was even with just the right hint of friendly so he wouldn’t guess how he’d ripped my heart to smithereens when we were young, or how he still affected me now for that matter. I took a deep breath. “Welcome back to town.”

  “Thanks.” The corner of his mouth lifted, making him look even sexier, which shouldn’t have been possible since the guy was already the definition of smoking hot. “It’s good to be back.”

  A buzzing sound came from Bernie’s direction and he pulled his cell phone from his pocket, then scanned the screen. “If you’ll both excuse me, I have to take this. I’ll see you this afternoon, Melinda. Thank you again.”

  “No problem.” I smiled a
t Bernie then shifted my gaze back to Nate, who was staring right at me. My tummy did a little flip. Gulp. “I trust you’re having a nice visit?”

  “Getting better all the time.” His gaze left my face and traveled down my body then slowly made his way back up again, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “I can’t believe it’s been this long since we’ve seen each other. You look beautiful, as always.”

  “Thank you.” My cheeks flushed at his compliment and I hoped he didn’t notice. I’d lost all of my extra “fudge” pounds since he’d last seen me at fourteen. It gave me goosebumps that he’d thought I was beautiful back when I was curvier, too.

  “I have to head to work now.” Mary Ann’s peppy voice seemed to come out of nowhere. She suddenly appeared at my side, extending her hand toward Nate. “I’m Melinda’s friend, Mary Ann.”

  “Nate.” He smiled warmly and grasped her hand in his. “Any friend of Melinda’s is a friend of mine.”

  She placed her other hand over her chest. “Gorgeous and sweet? I hope we’re going to be seeing more of you.”

  “I’m sure Nate has better, more adventurous things to do than hang with us,” I said, as a flitter of jealousy rolled through me, which was ridiculous. It meant nothing to me if Nate shook the hand of my adorable single friend, who had earlier referred to him as every woman’s fantasy. At least I tried to convince myself it didn’t bother me.

  “I’ll definitely be around,” he said, releasing her hand and facing me. “We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?”

  I turned to Mary Ann. “I’ll see you later. Thanks again for the coffee.”

  “Anytime.” She backed up a few feet until she was standing behind Nate, looked him up and down, and gave me the thumbs up sign. Then she held her hand to the side of her head with her thumb toward her ear and her pinky toward her mouth, in the universal sign for “call me.”

  “It was nice to see you, Nate. But I really should be going, too.” I forced a smile, then turned to my table and gathered my untouched bran muffin in a paper napkin. I started toward the door.

  He stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “We need to have lunch.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, unwittingly inhaling the scent of his leather jacket since he was only standing a few inches away. The distinctive aroma conjured an insane image of me swinging my leg over the back of Nate’s motorcycle and wrapping my arms around his waist as we zoomed down the street with my hair flying behind me. Weird.

  I’d never ridden a motorcycle and didn’t plan to ride one ever. I especially wouldn’t ride one with Nate, though. “Thanks, but I can’t have lunch with you.”

  He peered down at me. “Dinner then.”

  “Sorry.” I shook my head, adjusting the purse strap on my shoulder. “It’s nice that you’re visiting your dad, but I’m sure you’ll be off to Paris soon. Or Bali. Or wherever the wind blows you. Then I’ll never hear from you again.”

  An unreadable look crossed his face. “I’m here indefinitely. We have a lot to talk about. Can’t you make time to catch up with an old friend?”

  My heart squeezed. A friend would’ve written or called, not disappeared from my life without a word—especially after the kiss we’d shared.

  “Look, I’ve agreed to manage the bakery for a little while so your dad can get the rest he needs. I’m sure we’ll see each other around.” Or not.

  He tilted his head, giving me an inquisitive side-glance. “What if the bakery sells before we get the chance?”

  “Well, then . . .” I started to step around him, then my mind processed what he’d just said and I stopped in my tracks. I spun around so fast, the muffin slipped out of my hand and bounced across the floor. “Bernie’s thinking of selling the bakery?”

  “He already put it on the market.” He squatted down and retrieved my breakfast casualty from under a bistro table where it had bumped into some man’s unsuspecting loafer. “His Realtor, Wendy Watts, is putting the “for sale” sign up tomorrow. She’s on billboards all over town and is supposed to be the best in Sacramento.”

  My heart dropped to the floor, and my brain swirled trying to make sense of what he was telling me. I shook my head, because the possibility of Bernie selling his bakery did not compute. “But your dad’s going through a stack of résumés to hire a manager. Why would he do that if he’s selling?”

  “In addition to selling the building, he’s hoping someone will buy the business and keep it going. That’s his dream, anyway.” Nate tossed the dirty muffin into a nearby trash can, then returned with a crease between his brows. “I thought he’d explained all of this to you.”

  “No.” Tears burned behind my eyes, and I blinked rapidly to keep them at bay as I fought for composure. I couldn’t imagine Bernie not being here every day. My throat started to close, so I made a show of checking my watch. I had to get of here before I broke down. “I’m late to meet my mom. I have to go. Bye, Nate.”

  “Melinda . . .”

  I heard his voice behind me, but I hurried to the exit before I lost it. The purple-haired barista shouted my name as I dashed by, and shoved a basket of baked goods over the counter, saying Bernie had put it together for my mom. Of course he had. That’s what he often did.

  But that wouldn’t happen anymore—not once Bernie’s Bakery was sold to the highest bidder. My throat tightened even further. With the basket in one hand, I pulled open the yellow door with the other, and the familiar ding-a-ling of the bell chimed overhead. A wave of nausea rolled through me and I rushed to my car.

  I unlocked the door and climbed behind the wheel, but my hand was too shaky to get the key in the ignition. My eyes watered and my chest pounded, so I leaned back in the seat trying to take deep calming breaths. Immediately my gaze darted to the building on the corner. Big white letters with a thick brown outline decorated the center of the window, spelling out “Bernie’s Bakery” in a cheerful font.

  That bakery was a neighborhood icon. It had been a place of joy when I was growing up back when Nate and I were best friends, a place of comfort after my dad had died, and it still felt like my home away from home. But soon the bakery would be sold and its fate would be up to the new owner, who could turn it into a yoga studio or a clothing boutique or whatever they wanted.

  The mere thought of Bernie’s Bakery shutting down had absolutely devastated to me. I couldn’t imagine how heartbroken I’d be when it actually happened.

  ****

  Completely crushed by the news that Bernie was selling his bakery, I had to force myself to concentrate on the road ahead as I pulled my convertible away from the curb by Bernie’s Bakery. I cruised through “The Fabulous Forties” neighborhood in East Sacramento, heading to my mom’s house to ask for a small chunk of the inheritance funds I had never wanted to touch just so I could pay next month’s rent.

  Even in my sad state, I had to admit that it made sense that Bernie would sell his bakery. His health was at stake, which was why even his audacious son had (annoyingly) returned after all those years of being away. I also supposed Bernie was close to an early retirement age. But I couldn’t imagine a life where Bernie’s Bakery didn’t exist. There must be a way to ensure its survival.

  As I continued through the neighborhood I’d grown up in, my gaze darted around and I admired the grand custom homes built in the early twentieth century. Tudor-style homes. Dutch farmhouses. Mediterranean villas. A homey feeling encompassed me, along with the familiar longing to own one of these beautiful houses myself someday.

  Not likely, at the rate I was going. Sigh.

  I pulled into the driveway of the two-story brick colonial revival-style home I’d grown up in, and parked beside the sweeping green lawn. Then my gaze fell to the basket of baked goods sitting on my front passenger seat that Bernie had so lovingly put together for my mom.

  Bernie’s bakery hadn’t just been a job for him. He’d loved spending his time there every day, and his choice of business had made him happy. Unlike me, who was search
ing for another customer service job I didn’t really enjoy. I found myself wishing I’d chosen a career that I loved as much Bernie had loved his.

  Wait a minute. . . .

  A nervous burst of laughter escaped as an idea started percolating in my brain. My mind flew back to all of the good times I’d had when I’d worked at Bernie’s Bakery during college. I remembered the peace that would come over me, while baking during the early morning hours before the rest of the world was awake. I’d loved greeting and chatting with the regular customers, who had inevitably felt like an extended part of my family. I still ran into some of them from time to time.

  Working at the bakery had been so much fun.

  What if I bought the bakery?

  Suddenly, the solution made perfect sense. I knew what I had to do. Gripping the handle of Bernie’s basket of goodies with my hand, I jumped out of the car and hurried up the walkway toward my mom’s front door. I didn’t need to just dip into the inheritance funds my dad had left me so I could get through the next month. I needed to accept the whole shebang so I could buy Bernie’s Bakery!

  Adrenaline blasted through me, and I knew with every ounce of my being that this was the correct decision. I’d never felt right accepting money that had resulted from my dad’s death, but now I realized what an incredible gift he’d left for me. This generous gift would completely change the direction of my life. I’d finally be spending my days doing something meaningful that I loved—just like Bernie had done.

  And even though it was such a large sum, I knew my mom wouldn’t have a problem handing over all of the funds to me. She’d offered it up many times over the years, practically trying to force me to take it. Wearing an excited smile that I hadn’t felt in weeks, months, or maybe even years, I pressed the doorbell.

  I couldn’t wait to tell my mom about my plan to buy Bernie’s Bakery. She’d be happy, I figured, since Bernie’s had featured predominantly in her life, too. During my childhood, my mom had always been impeccably dressed, attending elegant social functions every weekend. Whenever she was in charge of an event, she always had it catered with Bernie’s delicious delicacies. She’d enjoyed hosting parties herself as well, and ordered all of the food from the bakery because his delectable goodies were the best around.