The Heavenly Bites Novella Collection

by Christine S. Feldman

  “Well…for me, too. So I guess that makes us even.”

  “You’re a sweet guy, Benji. You know that?”

  “So my mother tells me. She’ll be thrilled to have her opinion verified by an outside source.” Benji emerged from the bathroom then, jean-clad and tucking in the hem of the dress shirt.

  “No, don’t tuck,” Nadia told him, putting her hand on his to stop him. “Tucking is fine for formal occasions, but trust me. Leave it out.”

  He momentarily stilled as she touched him, and then he cleared his throat and followed her instructions.

  “Much better. And I think we ought to undo one more button at the top—there you go.” Nadia took a step back to admire him, and her lips parted in a smile of pure pleasure. “Oh, I was so right about that shirt with your eyes. Blue is definitely your color. Here, take a look at yourself.” Putting her hands on his shoulders, she turned him toward the mirror that was attached to his dresser. “See?”

  “Stunning,” he said wryly. “I even take my own breath away.”

  Men, she thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Did he really not notice the difference? And did he really not realize the kind of appeal he held? Apparently not, because even now his gaze rested more on her reflection in the mirror than on his own. “And if we roll up the sleeves,” she continued, undeterred, “it’s even better. Good forearms look great on a man—hey, do you work out?” she asked, feeling his arms for a moment and marveling.

  “I play racquetball with some of my clients,” he answered, and it might have been her imagination, but for a moment she could have sworn his voice took on a slightly strained note.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. Mrs. Beasley wipes the floor with me every time.”

  Nadia did a double take. “You’re kidding.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “A comedian, huh?” She gave him a little shove. “Come on, back to business.” But her eyes inadvertently dropped to his jeans. He filled them out surprisingly well. Maybe she ought to look into racquetball herself if it got results like that. Realizing just where her gaze was lingering, she forced her eyes upward. “Okay, time to talk color palettes. Now there are warm skin tones and cool skin tones, and yours is definitely cool. There are going to be some colors that compliment it, and some that really don’t, so—”

  “Color palettes?” he interrupted, sounding aghast as he turned around. “Dear God. Are you serious?”

  “Yes, and after I explain how they work, I’m going to give you a pop quiz to see if you can match appropriate pieces of clothing.”

  “There’s going to be a quiz? I take it back. You are pushy.”

  “Too late, honey. Now you should probably write this stuff down so you’ll remember it.” Nadia smiled at him. “Got a pencil?”

  * * *

  Forty minutes later, Benji was both paying the deliveryman who had brought their food and simultaneously refusing the cash Nadia was trying to give him for her share.

  “I can’t,” he told her with a pained expression on his face as he closed the door. “My mother would disown me for taking money from a guest in my home. You wouldn’t want to break up a family, would you?”

  “If I’m eating, I should be paying, too,” she objected.

  “Don’t make me get my mother on the phone.”

  “Maybe I’ll call that bluff. What’s she like?”

  “Absolutely terrifying.”

  “Ha! Your mother? I don’t believe you.”

  “Good. You really shouldn’t. Actually,” Benji said as he unpacked to-go boxes of food from the delivery bag and set them on the kitchen counter, “she’s warmhearted, generous to a fault, and the kind of person who will refill somebody’s plate anytime she sees it’s empty—whether they like it or not. So you can understand why I have to represent well here. Plate?” he asked, offering one.

  She took it. “Thanks.”

  “That’s even how she met my father. They worked in the same office but never met until one day she passed his desk, noticed the sad excuse for a lunch he brought, and informed him that was no way to eat. She brought him something the next day, and then the next after that, and so on. My father deliberately brought crackers and apples for days just to keep her coming by until he got up the nerve to ask her out.”

  Nadia smiled at him. “Smooth operator, your father.”

  “Well, it’s worked out pretty well for them. Been married over thirty years, and they still dote on each other.”

  “Really? Wow.”

  “What about your folks? No, wait—let me guess. Social expertise runs in the family, and one of them picked the other up with an unforgettable line. Am I right?”

  A memory played through her mind of her parents bitterly arguing, one of many. Nadia’s smile faded. “I don’t really know,” she said, turning away and pretending to examine a DVD shelf in Benji’s living room. “Anyway, they split up a long time ago.”

  “I’m sorry.” Benji said immediately. “None of my business.”

  “Forget it, ancient history,” she assured him, shrugging with a nonchalance that was more feigned than she’d expected it to be. Searching for a change in topic, she zeroed in on one of his DVDs. “Oh, boy. Busted.”

  “Who, me? For what?”

  Nadia pulled out the DVD and held it up. “I thought you said you weren’t a Trekkie.”

  “That’s Star Wars you’re holding there, not Star Trek,” he informed her.

  “Is there a difference?”

  Benji’s eyes widened, and he clutched at his chest as if wounded.

  “What? They’re both about people flying around in outer space, right?”

  “That’s like saying Blazing Saddles is the same as Dances With Wolves because they both have people riding horses. Have you never watched Star Wars?”

  She shrugged and shook her head.

  “Not even once? How is that possible?”

  “If it’s not a chick-flick, I don’t watch it. Unless Denzel Washington’s involved,” she clarified. “For him, I make an exception.”

  “That’s rather limiting, isn’t it?” Benji observed, pouring her a glass of water. “Trust me, Stars Wars is universal. Men, women…old, young…doesn’t matter. There’s something in it for everyone. It’s got adventure, drama, humor—epic good versus evil, family relationships, and maybe even a few life lessons. Whereas Star Trek is more about a certain ship’s captain extending the hand of friendship to every female alien he meets, if you know what I mean. Got it? Or maybe you should write all of this down so you’ll remember it.” He gave her a sideways glance and held out the glass in his hand. “Got a pencil?”

  He had that look down very well, Nadia thought as she took the glass from him, and the fact that he didn’t seem to realize how charming it was made it all the more effective on him. “That won’t be necessary.”

  “Pop it into the machine,” Benji suggested with a nod toward his DVD player. “We’ll let the movie speak for itself.”

  “What? It’s, like, two hours long, isn’t it? I can’t stay that late.” And yet even as she glanced at her watch, Nadia found herself—much to her surprise—tempted.

  His gaze dropped from her to the box of food he was opening “Hot date, huh?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  He perked up again.

  “Early shift at the bakery,” Nadia explained, but even she could hear her voice wavering with indecision.

  Benji eyed her and waited.

  “Would there be popcorn involved?” she asked finally.

  “There can be.”

  “Buttered?”

  “Is there any other way?”

  After a moment, she nodded. “All right, I’m in.”

  A grin of unabashed pleasure spread across Benji’s face, one that sent an unexpected tingle down Nadia’s spine. “You won’t regret it. Forty-seven percent of all pop culture references made in the world today are about Star Wars, and now you’ll finally be able to get them
.”

  “Forty-seven percent?” she returned, trying to ignore the tingle. “You made that up.”

  “Yes, I did. Napkin?”

  “Please.”

  And as she kicked off her shoes and settled in beside Benji on his couch to watch the movie, plate of food in hand and legs curled comfortably beneath her, it struck Nadia as ironic that she, Nadia Normandy, had not only agreed to an evening in of her own free will, but she was thoroughly enjoying it.

  * * *

  It might have been the crick in her neck that woke her up, but whatever it was that finally did it, it gradually brought Nadia back to awareness to the point where she realized her head was resting on something much too hard to be her pillow. It rose and fell ever so slightly, too, with the slow and even rhythm of a sleeper’s breathing.

  A shoulder.

  Peeling her eyes open, Nadia first noticed the glow of the television screen that was on and was showing the Play Me screen of the Star Wars DVD. The only other light in the room came from a single lamp in the corner—they had decided to turn the others off for the movie, she remembered now—and it illuminated the room enough to remind her that she was in Benji’s apartment, and that her head was resting on his shoulder.

  Good grief, she thought foggily, trying to clear her head. She’d fallen asleep during the movie, hadn’t she? No, wait, that wasn’t quite right, because she remembered seeing the end of it. It must have happened after that. They’d been talking about something… He’d asked her about how she’d gotten into the bakery business, and she’d told him about some of the mishaps that had occurred along the way to opening Heavenly Bites with Trish. She’d been laughing and comfortable and cozy, and then she’d leaned back against the cushions, intending to close her eyes for just a minute…

  Nadia raised her head carefully so as not to wake Benji and then winced sharply at the ache in her neck. It had been a long time since she’d fallen asleep in a position like this—leaning on someone else, no less—and now her neck felt like one of those twisty straws that children liked to use to sip their drinks. Rubbing the muscles in her neck with one hand, she turned to look over at Benji where he slept beside her on his couch. His head rested back against the cushions as his chest rose and fell with deep, even breaths, stretching the t-shirt he wore ever so slightly each time over his torso in a way that was not exactly unappealing.

  Wow. Racquetball, she thought again. Really? Or maybe batting practice, too.

  Benji mumbled something in his sleep, and Nadia started as she realized she’d been staring at him. He shifted position but didn’t wake, and it occurred to her then that his previous position—while allowing her to rest her head on him in relative comfort—couldn’t have been all that comfortable for him. And yet he hadn’t tried to move her.

  She felt a flicker of affection. He really was a very nice guy, and surprisingly easy to be around considering that it had only been three days since they’d met. Three days was barely enough time to scratch the surface with somebody, and yet here she was one pajama set away from having a slumber party at his place. That was very unlike her.

  The slight movement he had made a moment ago was enough to leave Benji’s glasses askew on his face. They’d no doubt be much safer on an end table than on his face while he was sleeping, especially if he rolled over and they slid off, so Nadia very carefully reached to lift the frames from off his face and set them aside, aware that she was removing them as much out of curiosity as concern for their safekeeping.

  She’d known already that he had nice features, but they were even nicer without the glasses in their way. No chiseled edges maybe like you might see in the pages of a magazine, but still very appealing, especially with the hint of stubble that was there now. Disarming, even. The stubble was appealing, too, a sharp contrast to his usual tidy suit-and-tie image. It was a shame he didn’t allow it to show more often. Maybe she should suggest it.

  Another thought popped into her head then that made her forget Benji and instead scramble to check her watch. She bit back a curse as she saw the time. She was going to be late starting her shift at the bakery. Late was an understatement, actually, but as long as she didn’t try to go home and change first—she grimaced, longing for a shower—at least she wouldn’t be unforgivably late.

  And as much as she was starting to like Benji, surely three days was not nearly a long enough time to know someone before asking to use his shower?

  Moving cautiously so as not to disturb him with her movements, Nadia pushed herself up off the couch. For a moment she debated whether or not to nudge him awake and say goodbye, but he looked so adorably peaceful lying there that she finally decided against it. A note would do just as well, she supposed, her gaze lingering on him as her thoughts returned to their evening together.

  She’d had a far better time than she’d expected—although she suspected that had more to do with the company than the movie.

  “Sword-fighting with lasers? How is that even possible?” she’d demanded at one point, one hand reaching for popcorn and the other gesturing at the television screen. “Wouldn’t they just go right through each other?”

  “You’re completely missing the point,” Benji told her.

  “Which is?”

  “That they’re insanely awesome.”

  Nadia started to laugh. “How is that an argument?”

  He stopped her mouth from saying anything further by popping a piece of popcorn into it. “Sh. It’s rude to talk when the movie’s on. Eat your popcorn.”

  Then she’d tossed a popped kernel at him, and he’d retaliated…

  They had gone through two bowls of popcorn that way—there were still a few kernels lying around as evidence.

  It was so completely not her style of fun. And she had so completely had a blast.

  Would it be the same for Benji, she wondered, if he stepped into her world and tried it on for size? It would probably make a great next step for him to stretch the boundaries of his comfort zone. Dinner out at a trendy tapas bar, wine-tasting at a gallery of unconventional art, or maybe—

  Maybe…

  Oh, yes, Nadia thought as a third option came to mind, and her mouth curved upward in anticipation.

  Grabbing an unused napkin from among the now empty takeout boxes, Nadia scribbled a hasty note and left it on the coffee table for Benji to find.

  And then, with her mind still a little on the fuzzy side but growing ever more alert at the prospect of the evening she was planning, Nadia retrieved her purse and tiptoed out of the apartment.

  Chapter Seven

  Nadia popped a pair of baking sheets full of pastries into the ovens just as she heard Trish’s key turn in the lock. “Morning,” she offered briskly over her shoulder as she turned her attention to the next batch of dough on her list, still scrambling to get back on schedule.

  “Morning,” Trish echoed cheerfully from behind her. “Wow. Looks like a bag of flour exploded in—” Then she paused for a long moment before speaking again, her tone suddenly uncertain. “Um, Nadia?”

  “Yes?”

  “Am I crazy, or are those the same clothes you were wearing yesterday?”

  “I’d say you’re right on both counts,” Nadia said, leaving her mixing bowl long enough to check on the status of the donuts that were rising in the corner. “But kooky as you are, I still love you.”

  “Mm. I’m laughing on the inside.”

  The donuts were doing fine. Another half an hour and she could slide them into the oven. “I never made it home last night,” Nadia said, her mind preoccupied with her to-do list as she returned to her mixing. “No big deal. Pass me the baking powder, would you?”

  “You never made it—what exactly happened yesterday?” Trish asked, handing her the baking powder as requested and hastily reaching for an apron.

  “We went through Benji’s closet, ordered in Thai food, and ended up watching a movie.”

  “And?”

  “And I guess after being on my fe
et all day, I was just really tired. I fell asleep on his couch. Actually, we both did.”

  To her surprise, Trish started to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nadia Normandy spending a Saturday night with take-out and a couch, that’s what. Doesn’t exactly fit your usual description of ‘fun.’ Must be slowing down in your old age, what with thirty on the horizon.”

  “Bite your tongue,” Nadia told her, stirring in the baking powder. “And around here we say twenty-ten, woman.”

  “My apologies.”

  “That would sound a lot more sincere if you weren’t smirking.”

  “Wouldn’t it, though?” Trish reached for a mixing bowl of her own. “So what movie did you watch?”

  “Star Wars.”

  Trish stared at her. “You did not.”

  “We did.”

  “Why? Did you think Denzel Washington was in it?”

  “Ha ha. No. Benji said I ought to give it a chance, so I did.”

  “And?”

  “Not bad,” she admitted, avoiding Trish’s eyes and beginning to feel a tad self-conscious.

  “You not only watched Star Wars, but you liked it? And you stayed in on a Saturday night to do it?” Trish’s eyes suddenly widened. “Isn’t that one of the signs of the apocalypse?”

  Nadia flashed her a dirty look. “Are you finished?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Hey, I never said I had anything against a quiet evening in.”

  “Ha! Yeah, right.”

  “I didn’t!”

  “Actions speak louder than words, babe,” Trish told her with a pointed look. “And your actions have always screamed ‘night on the town.’”

  “I’m about to take an action with this spoon that you’re not going to like much,” Nadia said, holding up the wooden spoon in her hand warningly.

  “You know, I think now might be a good time for me to refill the napkin dispensers out front,” Trish said, backing away from Nadia with exaggerated care.

  “Good idea,” said Nadia, resuming her mixing.

  * * *

  “The drawer on the cash register sticks a bit sometimes, but if you jiggle it like this—” Nadia demonstrated while Aimee watched. “It loosens right back up again. See?”