A Taste of Magic

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A Taste of Magic Page 14

by Tracy Madison


  I shook my head. “No. I’ll . . . um . . . just be careful. Thanks for the warning, though.”

  When she nodded, I escaped to my car. It should have been a breeze dropping off something as simple as a magical cake, but it wasn’t. I’d even phoned before driving over, wanting to make sure I wouldn’t see Troy face-to-face, but I was still nervous. Luck seemed to be on my side.

  I hoped it stayed that way. Marc’s office was next on my list, and pretending to be a secret admirer was out of the question. Because his entire office knew me, I couldn’t simply glide in and out. That meant for me to get Marc to eat cake, I’d have to eat crow first. Yech. And sure, with creative thinking, I could probably find another way to get it to him, but my ex was weird about food. A cake appearing anonymously on his desk would never make it to his mouth.

  At least I didn’t have time to fret over it, because the sports club and Marc’s office were within a ten-mile radius of each other. Just a short drive, even in the busy noontime traffic. In no time at all, I’d parked the car outside of his office building. I mentally went over what I wanted to accomplish. I didn’t want to get into an argument, and I didn’t want to talk about the bakery. All I needed to do was be nice and get him to eat the cake. With luck, the magic would take care of the rest.

  My legs wobbled when my feet hit the ground. Gripping the box, I rode up the elevator and focused on the moment he would come to apologize. If I could keep that thought in place, I’d have a much better chance of getting through the next fifteen minutes or so.

  “Hi, Angie,” I said to Marc’s secretary. “Is he in?”

  The brunette’s eyes widened when she glanced up from her computer. “Oh, wow. Hi, Elizabeth. I haven’t seen you in forever.” Questions filled the air between us. I didn’t answer them. I was just grateful Tiffany no longer worked there.

  “I’m sorry for not calling first, but this won’t take long. Is Marc in?” I asked again.

  “Well, he is. Give me a minute. I’ll see if he’s free.” With another curious look at me, she scooted out of her chair, lightly rapped on the door, and then let herself into Marc’s office. Within seconds, she returned with Marc right on her heels.

  “Betty? Twice in one week. It must be my lucky day.”

  “Do you have a few minutes?” I asked, taking in his appearance. Dark suit, tie loosened, hair mussed—but even with the frazzle, Marc Stevens was a handsome man. Irritation flickered, and I shoved it aside.

  His eyes whisked over me with an appreciative gleam. I’d worn a dress he particularly liked. Dark midnight blue, it hugged my curves in all the right areas, swirling out slightly above the knees. The deep color gave my skin a creamy glow, and the neckline was cut just low enough to give a hint of cleavage. It was a dress that left far more to the imagination, but that’s what Marc had always liked. I figured it was smart to go in with every advantage I could.

  “Of course. Come on in.”

  Following him, I clutched the box tighter. The last time I’d been in this office was about two weeks before our separation. We’d gone out to lunch. Once again, I wanted to go back in time and kick the old me in the ass. Just to wake her up.

  I sat down in the chair across from his desk. I was glad when he chose to sit behind his desk instead of in the chair next to me. I didn’t want him to be too close. This was harder than I’d thought, probably because of the vision I’d had the other night.

  “I’m really surprised to see you. You were angry with me at the store.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t prepared to run into you, so, well, I overreacted.”

  He tapped his long, manicured fingers on the surface of his desk. Opening a drawer, he removed a small picture frame and flipped it toward me so I could see the photograph. “Do you remember this day?”

  It only took a glance to be able to say, “Yes.” The picture was of me. Maybe at sixteen or seventeen. The smile on my young self’s face turned my stomach. “That was taken at one of the school carnivals.”

  “You were the most beautiful girl in our school, and I couldn’t believe you wanted to be with me.” He set the frame on the desk and angled it toward him. “You may not believe this, Betty, but I do think of you with fondness.”

  Yeah, right. Fondness? Bite me, ya know?

  “I didn’t come here to rehash old days. You made your choice, Marc, and whether I agreed with it or not, it’s the life we have now.” I didn’t know what he was doing, but no way did I want to be dragged back through the past in front of him. I did enough of that on my own.

  “I thought that’s what you wanted. You didn’t come for closure? Tiffany said . . . never mind. What is it you want then?”

  “Tiffany suggested I needed closure? How nice of her, but no, that’s not why I came. I thought about what you said at Dominick’s. And while I’m not sure we can ever be friends again, I don’t want to be afraid of running into you.”

  “What do you have to be afraid of? I’m not trying to hurt you. I just want to talk to you every now and then.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. You left me for another woman who is now your wife. How can we be friends after that? You were the one who preached honesty on my birthday. Do you remember that? That’s all I’m doing. Being honest.” Hot anger eased into me. Swallowing, I set it aside. For now.

  “I’m really busy this afternoon, Betty. If the purpose of your visit is to tell me how horrible I am, then it’s better if you leave. I put out a hand of friendship and you bit it off. Trust me, I won’t make that mistake again.” Ice edged his words.

  I was stunned. No guilt, no nothing, just anger, and somehow, it was all my fault. You know, why wouldn’t I want to be friends with the amazing Marc Stevens? I must be crazy.

  Not.

  “Do you feel any remorse about the way you ended our marriage? Because honestly, from this side of the desk, it appears you don’t. And that is the number one reason why we can’t be friends.” Ouch, I instantly regretted my words. A little too harsh when I was supposed to be playing nice.

  His cold eyes narrowed. “What’s there to be sorry about? You know my favorite saying. It’s a dog eat dog world. I found something that made me happier, so I went with it. There is nothing to be sorry about.”

  See, told you he was a jerk.

  He twisted a piece of paper between his fingers, which meant he was either nervous or angry. My bet was on anger. “Now that you’re here, we should talk about your little bakery that’s losing money hand over foot,” he said in a condescending tone.

  Little bakery? Up until to that point, I’d purposely kept A Taste of Magic out of our conversation, but no way was I going to let that comment slide. “My little bakery is doing just fine. Business hasn’t been as brisk this year as we’d like, but we’re not losing money. And if you think I’m going to let you come in and make all sorts of changes, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  “You don’t have any choice. Until you pay the loan off, I do have a say in how it’s run. Whether you like it or not.”

  “Just because you’re a financial planner doesn’t mean you know how to run a business. It’s much more than dollars and cents.”

  He looked at me as if I were an idiot. “It’s all about the bottom line, Betty. How much you spend versus what you profit. And your profits are less this year than they were at the same time last year.”

  I forced myself not to argue with him. He was talking to me as if I knew nothing about the basics of business, which pissed me off. Besides, A Taste of Magic was about far more than the bottom line. It was about celebration, making dreams come true, and finding a way to balance that with the logistics of a profitable business.

  I reminded myself what the goal of this meeting was. Sitting up straight, and with a calm voice, I said, “I didn’t come here to fight with you. I want to apologize for running off the other night. So why don’t we get back to that?”

  “You’re sorry? That’s nice to hear.”

  “Here.�
� I set the bakery box on his desk. “I know how much you like white chocolate and coconut. Consider it a peace offering.”

  His shoulders relaxed slightly as he picked up the box. Flipping the lid off, he peeked inside. “I miss your baking. It was nice of you to do this.”

  “It’s not much, but I know you always loved my cakes. Besides, I really do feel bad about my reaction to you the other night.” I squirmed in my chair at the lie. Well, I guess it wasn’t really a lie because I did feel really bad. Just not the way I’d let on.

  Yeah, I know I was rationalizing.

  “It looks great.”

  “Taste it. I made it especially for you,” I said in the sweetest tone possible.

  Marc lifted the cake from the box and bit into it. Another bite, and then he replaced it. “I’ll save the rest for later this afternoon.” He brushed crumbs off his jacket. “It’s great,” he repeated.

  Pleased I got to watch him eat the cursed thing, I said, “I need to get back to A Taste of Magic. My lunch break is about over.” Besides, I didn’t think I could sit there another minute. Not without taking the cake and smearing it into Marc’s perfect face. While fun, and possibly empowering, it would also be counterproductive.

  “I’m quite happy you came by, Betty. It’s the first sign you’re willing to be honest with yourself. I’ll call you soon. Maybe we can do lunch.”

  I’m sure my jaw dropped open, because I distinctly remember snapping it back shut. I couldn’t figure out what game he was playing. And, honestly, being in the same room with him raised all sorts of questions and emotions I didn’t want to confront. “I need to go.”

  Escorting me to the door, his arms reached out as if he was going to hug me. Not in this lifetime, so I stepped out of his reach. Marc touching me was not a smart idea. I didn’t trust how my body would react, and I wasn’t prepared to find out.

  Cocking his head, his mouth pinched tight, he said, “I’ll talk to you soon, Betty.”

  “Seriously, Marc, stop with the ‘Betty.’ It’s as if you say it on purpose, just to annoy me.”

  “You’re being childish. It’s what I’ve always called you. Anyway, we’ll get together in a week or two. We have business we need to discuss. When you’re a little less emotional.”

  I ignored the jab and made my way out of his office. The thought of him issuing commands about my business muddled together with everything else I was feeling. At the moment, though, anger took center stage. I hoped he was right—that we would be getting together soon. Because I kind of figured an apology would go a long way to setting me free. Even a magic-induced apology was better than nothing.

  As I started my car, I wasn’t sure what would make me happier: an apology or the realization that he’d suffered.

  Who was I kidding? The suffering would win—hands down.

  Dashing into my apartment, I ran to the phone. For some reason (call me crazy) I really thought a conversation with my grandmother was in order. Of course, she seemed to have a far more active social life than I did, so she probably wasn’t home.

  “Hello? Who’s there?” Grandma Verda screeched.Wincing, I said, “Hey, Grandma. It’s Elizabeth. Are you busy?”

  “Busy? I’m eighty-five years old. How busy can I be?” She cackled at her joke, as if it was the funniest one ever told in the world.

  I played along and laughed. “You’re busier than I am most of the time.”

  “I’m watching Judge Judy, make it quick. She’s laying into a scammer and I don’t want to miss anything when the commercial is over.”

  “Is anyone there with you?”

  “Just Shirley. Why? You have a thing against cats?”

  “No, Shirley is fine. I didn’t want to interrupt you if Vinny was over.”

  “Nope. Not now. Dinner later. You want to talk to Vinny?”

  “Grandma, no, I just need to ask you something.”

  “Well, quit wasting time then. Hurry it along. At my age, you have to talk fast and loud.”

  “Well, I was wondering. Have you ever spoken with Miranda?”

  “Miranda? She died long before I was born. What are you talking about? Something happen?”

  “I mean, since whenever you got, you know, the magic?”

  “What’s going on, Elizabeth? How in blazes could I talk with a dead woman?”

  Yeah, that’s what I wanted to know.

  “Never mind, Grandma. How are you doing?”

  “I’m good, dear. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Well . . . you know, the 911 stuff and leaving the stove on when you fell asleep.”

  “Not you too! Your mother calls me every blasted night to make sure I haven’t burned the place down. I’m thinking of screaming ‘FIRE’ into the phone next time she calls. I’m fine, Lizzie. My show is on. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Bye, Grandma. Enjoy Judge Judy.”

  I hung up the phone and grinned. Grandma Verda was crazy, but I loved her. I changed out of my work clothes into a pair of sweats and sneakers. After seeing Marc that afternoon, I’d stopped by Alice’s with her cake before returning to A Taste of Magic. Jon’s remained on my counter. I’d give it to him tonight when we went to see the Willis flick.

  Which meant the only delivery I had left to make was Maddie’s. No time like the present, right?

  I grabbed my keys and the cake and headed to the hallway. My eyes automatically went to Nate’s door, and without fully realizing it I went there instead. Mentally shaking myself, I backed up to go to Maddie’s as originally planned.

  The door from the outside opened, cold wind pouring into the hallway before it slammed back shut. “Hi, Elizabeth, looking for me?” Nate asked, brushing the snow off his jacket as he walked. Sam trailed behind, his small frame covered in white.

  I grinned. “Making snowmen?”

  “How’d ya guess? We actually made three. You should go check them out.”

  “I will.” Sam’s cheeks were pink from the cold. “You look like a snowman, Sam,” I said to him. “Go inside and have your uncle make you some hot chocolate.”

  “We’re going to see a movie and then I have to go to my grandparents’,” Sam said. “But Grandma has PlayStation, so it’ll be fun.”

  Nate lifted a brow. “When did she buy that?”

  “Last time I stayed with her.”

  With a chuckle, Nate pulled his key out of his pocket. “Does she play it?”

  Sam nodded. “But she’s not very good. She keeps forgetting what button does what.”

  “Wanna come in, Liz? We’re going to get Sam’s stuff together and head out, but I have a few minutes.”

  Gee, did I want to? Rhetorical question. “Sure, sounds good.”

  Once in the apartment, Nate helped Sam out of his winter gear. “Go change, kiddo, and get your stuff together.”

  Sam took off down the hallway.

  “I have to work in the morning, and my sister isn’t back from Ohio until tomorrow afternoon, so the folks are watching him.”

  “Your family must be close. Where . . . um, where is Sam’s dad?”

  “He lives in Colorado. Sam only sees him a couple of times a year.”

  “That’s rough. It’s cool he has you as a father figure.” Ouch, should I have said that?

  “Well, a male figure, anyway.” His eyes dropped to Maddie’s cake. “Hey! You didn’t forget. What did you bake?” He removed his coat and reached for the box. Being completely lost in the green of his eyes, I handed it over without thought.

  “It’s a cake. Just a small one.” His shirt was plastered to his chest from the outside exertion, and his hair was damp around the edges. I wanted to pull him down to the ground, rip his shirt off, and proceed with some serious indoor exertion.

  “What kind?”

  Dear God, what kind? Any kind. I could think of several types of indoor fun to be had. It wasn’t until he set the cake down on the table and lifted the lid that my brain clicked in. Damn, he meant the cake. More’s the pity.

/>   “This looks great. Thanks!”

  “No problem,” I murmured, watching his hands. Strong, capable hands, able to bring a woman to immense pleasure... as they removed the cake from the box.

  Shit! He was going to eat it. Maddie’s cake! “Wait!” I said, just as his mouth closed around it in a bite.

  Now, I was going to have to start over and bake her something new. At least the magic wouldn’t do anything to Nate. I was very specific that it was meant for Maddie.

  “Hmm?” Replacing the cake, Nate said, “You don’t want me to eat it?”

  “Oh, no. Not that. You should have it with coffee—or milk—that’s all,” I stumbled over the words. It’s not like I could blast him for eating Maddie’s magical cake. “Is it good?”

  “Terrific. Thanks again.” He closed the distance between us in a breath. “Come here.”

  He didn’t have to say it twice. I stepped to him, his arms closed around me, and his lips touched mine. An entirely different type of magic eased into me.

  Prodding my mouth open with his tongue, it slipped inside, and I tasted the sweetness of the cake and the hotness of Nate all at once. My body reacted immediately, and I leaned into the embrace, into the kiss.

  “Eww. That is SO gross!” Sam’s voice cut into the moment. Nate pulled back and tossed me a grin. You know the type: the “Oops, we’ve been caught,” sort of grin. Completely endearing, that grin. I smiled back and wrapped my arms around myself. When I was with Nate, all thought of Marc evaporated. Instantly.

  “You ready to go?” Nate asked Sam.

  “Yeah. Can’t we see the new Bruce Willis movie instead of Disney? Please?”

  “It’s rated R, so no. Grab your coat, Sam. I want to feed you before the movie.” Turning to me, he said, “Hey, do you want to go? We’re probably just going to hit McDonald’s for fast food, but I’d love it if you joined us.”

  I so wanted to say yes. “Thanks for asking. I’d love to, but I can’t. I have plans tonight with a friend.”

  He nodded as disappointment flashed over his expression. “I really would love to, Nate, but I promised.”

 

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