by Vivian Lux
"If I did break it right now," I mused. "Would you spend the rest of the day with tissues shoved up your nostrils while we got drunk together?"
"Nah, that was a one-time only deal," he laughed, sighing. "What the fuck are we doing, dude?"
I shrugged. "Helping Bee?"
His eyes softened a bit. "Yeah. Okay."
"She can't lose that contract."
"Sounds like business isn't great. You know what we should do?" Finn burst out, and I saw it. That manic idea factory of a mind of his already rocketing forward five or six steps from the present. "Get her some more contracts."
I was about to scoff when I remembered who I was talking to. "You have something in mind?" I said instead. Because if anyone in the world had something like that up his sleeve, it was Finn Walker.
He nodded slowly. "I think I do." He raised an eyebrow.
I was nodding too, until it hit me what he was saying. "Wait. Us?"
"Think about it." His eyes shone in manic glee. I swear to god the guy was a junkie for control. Give him something he could take over and micromanage and he was happier than a pig in shit. "You hate desserts. We were gonna hire a pastry chef anyway. Why not?"
I shook my head. "She seems like she wants to do this on her own terms," I said carefully.
"Huh." Finn stared off into the distance for a sec. That was one good thing about him. As quickly as his ideas came on, he just as quickly let them go when they turned out to be unworkable. "Okay then." He gestured to the display case. "Let's sell this then."
I licked my lips. A crumb of honey bun still hung in the corner of my mouth and once again I was blinded by the sheer genius of her simple recipe. I reached into my back pocket and dug out my wallet. "Here, grab me another one, of those" I told him as I went to the cash register. "I'll be her first customer."
Finn grabbed a sheet of waxed paper and one of the flakey, glazed pastries from the display case, then handed it to me. "All double meaning aside, her buns really are fucking delicious," he observed.
I rang in the sale and then looked at it. "I know. So simple too. But the execution is where it shines." I took a bite and stared off into the distance as I chewed thoughtfully. "I think... wait do you have a piece of paper?"
"Bee does," he said, reaching over to grab the jot pad by her register. "What are you...?"
I held up my finger as I started taking notes, my heavy scrawl filling up the paper as I chewed. Finn fell silent, watching me.
When I was done, I sat down at the chair and cradled my head for a moment. Finn came up behind me and peered over. "Oyster in sesame marinade," he read. "Dry shot. Tempura shrimp with Meyer lemon and cranberry. Crispy nest of… Cereal? No hands...? Snow?" He looked at me. "What does it mean?"
I shook my head, eyes widening as I reread what I'd just written. "I don't really know," I said slowly. "But I'm going to be heading into the kitchen really soon so I can find out.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Bee
"Hey, you need help with that?"
I looked up from yanking my dolly out of the back of my beat-up truck to see who was calling me from the loading dock. "Oh! Hey there!" I called, startled.
Charlie did a double take, the coiled knot of curly blonde hair on the top of her head bobbing wildly from side to side. "Hey, you live on my block, right?" she asked, squinting at me. Her sharp blue eyes had deep, dark circles underneath them.
I set the dolly down, grateful for the break. "I do!" I said, feeling winded. "You're Charlie, right?"
She squinted. "Um, I'm terrible with names and my kid has sucked my brain out of my body."
I giggled. "He looks too cute to be a brainsucker."
She rolled her eyes. "Being cute is what saves him," she sighed. "Quick, tell me your name before I forget to ask and we have to get introduced all over again."
"Bee," I said, yanking off my work glove and extending my hand. "Short for Beatrix. My mother had a Peter Rabbit fascination."
She started laughing. "Ha! Charlie," she said, taking my hand. "Short for Charlotte. Guess what book my mom was obsessed with?"
Her bright laugh lit up her whole face, and I started laughing right along with her. "Here's to our literary moms," I snorted against my hand.
"Either they're literary or really uncreative, I'm not sure," Charlie mused. "But what are you doing here, Bee? Where's Nick?"
"MIA," I grunted. I wiggled the dolly underneath the carefully packed box and when it finally slid in at the right angle I pumped my fist in silent triumph.
"A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, huh?" Charlie observed. "Here, hand that to me, I've got it."
"Thanks," I gasped as she caught the box that was teetering at the top of my stack. "I don't want the rolls getting bruised." I lowered my voice conspiratorially. "I'm kind of terrified of Spiro, if I'm being honest."
"He doesn't pay me enough to be terrified of him," Charlie snapped. "Cheap ass docked my pay because the register was short yesterday."
"That's terrible!" I sympathized as I wrestled the dolly up the ramp.
"Mm hmm. And it's not the first time either." She took another box from the top of my dolly, making it even easier to push into the storeroom. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I need a new job," she complained.
"I'd say you do," I whispered back. "Are you looking?"
"No one is hiring," she sighed, effortlessly opening the boxes and tossing the rolls into pre-laid-out baskets, six apiece. Her movements were quick and precise and she didn't drop a single one. I was mesmerized. "Besides," she went on, folding the napkins over the baskets. "I've been working in this restaurant since I was in high school. Since before I had Malcolm. It's the only job I've ever had... only thing I'm good at, honestly."
There was a bruised sort of sadness in her words, heavy with regret, that I recognized. Without realizing, I felt myself stepping forward, stretching my hands out to hug her, but I caught myself beforehand and settled for brushing my hand on her upper arm. "You seem like you're really good at it though," I said.
She shrugged. "Yeah, well. Doesn't matter much anyway. Spiro still finds reasons to yell at me all the time. I give shit right back to him though," she declared, perking back up again. "In a way, we're almost friendly like that."
I felt myself smiling at the way her face lit back up again. If there was ever someone who deserved to be described as sunny, it was Charlie. "Hey," I told her. "If ever you want to bring Malcolm by my shop, I'll hook you up with a free cupcake. Does he like chocolate?"
She grinned. "Actually, no, weirdly enough." She licked her lips. "But I sure do."
I laughed. "Okay well I'll hook you up too."
"I'm gonna hold you to that."
"Please do."
"Charlie?" A breathless bus boy rushed back to the storeroom. "There you are. Spiro's on the warpath."
Charlie heaved a big sigh and rolled her eyes at me. "Again?" she asked, and I snorted.
"I'll see myself out," I told her. "It was nice meeting you for real."
"You too, Beatrix."
"Bee," I corrected. "Only my mom calls me Beatrix."
She grinned. "Your literary, uncreative mom."
"That's right." I wavered in the doorway. It had been ages since I'd talked to another girl like this. All my girlfriends were Zach's friends too, and when it came down to it, I lost more than my marriage and my family when I finally stood up to him. I lost my friends too. "See you soon!" I called, feeling wistful.
She lifted her fingers in farewell, but her attention was already directed to the front of the diner. I heard her shout something, and then she disappeared around the corner.
I hauled myself up into the driver's seat of the delivery truck and crossed my fingers, but it started up right away.
As I pulled out and drove across town, my heartbeat started to quicken as I remembered what I was driving back to.
Finn and Jackson.
They'd said they'd take care of my store. They offered to h
elp, and from what I could tell, they weren’t after anything in return.
But what did I want? My breath quickened every time I was near them, my heart threatening to bang out of my chest. Every sensation seemed to be amplified by them.
Them.
Both of them?
I ducked my head as tourists crossed in the crosswalk. Just on the off chance they could see into the truck and see how badly I was blushing at the thought. Me. Beatrix Henry. Married at eighteen to the only guy who'd ever touched me, the only one who'd ever even shown an interest. I'd been with Zach, and only Zach, since I was fourteen years old. I'd married him and never planned on wanting anyone else.
Now I wanted...two?
Just the thought made me blush so hard I felt like I'd been set on fire. Heat that had no business burning through me seemed to settle in my thighs, in my core. A heavy wanting pressed against my chest and I imagined it was from being pressed by them... between them... crushed in their embrace as they kissed me, one after another, touching me all over with their lips, their fingers, their hands, their...
"Jesus!" I yelped as a sudden blast of a car horn woke me from my stupor. "Sorry!" I yelled out the window. "I'm going! I'm going."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Finn
The second we locked Bee's shop behind us, Jackson made a beeline for the kitchen. All afternoon I'd sat in my office and listened to the banging of pots and pans, his muttering and his occasional shouting, as aromas both seductive and strange wafted into the front.
It was midafternoon, almost close to dinner time, when he emerged from the kitchen with a tired but triumphant smile on his face. "I've got something," he announced.
"No shit?" I asked, rising from my chair. The excitement on his face made my heart beat wildly. "A menu? For real? You decided on something?"
He nodded slowly, lost in thought. "It needs tweaking," he hedged. "But it's something. You'll see." He gestured for me to follow him back to the kitchen.
The instant I stepped back there, into his world, I knew it. He did it. Whatever mental block he'd built up in his head had crumbled away. I looked at the beautifully plated food arrayed out in front of me. Kyle appeared from somewhere in the back, craning his neck excitedly, but I barely took note of him as I looked down the line.
"Holy crap," I exhaled. "They're beautiful."
Jackson grinned.
"Great job, chef!" Kyle interjected. "I'm going to go down and start working on the wine pairings."
"Yeah, sure," Jackson said, both of us too wound up to really give a shit what Kyle was up to.
Already I was mentally taking pictures for the website. Each plate looked like a little piece of artwork. One plate I'm pretty sure was artwork, with a strange skewer embedded in the center. This was nothing like the rustic cooking he'd been putting in front of us at family meal.
"This is it," I told him, breathless. "I don't even need to taste it to tell you that. This is the shit I knew you were capable of way back when I first met you." I was so excited I whirled around and grabbed him by the upper arms and shook him. "This is the shit you can do that's going to make us fucking rich," I crowed.
He grinned proudly even as his molars clacked together with the force of my embrace. "Sounds good," he declared, extricating himself and extending his hand. "Something we need to talk about though."
I looked down at his hand and back up again. He tilted his head slightly to the right.
In the direction of Bee's shop.
Fucker. He knew how to play me so well. I was proud of him, ready for us to be a team again and stop this petty sniping. And he was capitalizing on it.
"We good?" he pressed.
I hesitated.
Then, with a deep breath, I closed my hand in his.
When I shook it, something passed between us, a conversation that went by entirely unspoken. I'm not sure how I knew we were okay all of a sudden, other than I just knew.
"It's on now, isn't it?" I asked.
He nodded slowly. "Think so."
Understanding swept through me. Not competing for women? That was the old agreement. Those were the old rules and they applied to the old women, the ones we used to meet up with in bars and take home without ever getting their names.
The old rules didn't apply to a woman like Bee. Fuck, she was like no one else. A jumble of the wildest and most maddening contradictions. Feisty and sweet, smart and stubborn. She was innocent, I could see it in her eyes, but saucy as hell and that temper of hers... She had had no idea how sexy she was. She had no idea I was already imagining how her moans sounded when I jerked myself alone at night. Best friend code or not, there was no way I was going to back down from pursuing her until she told me to.
This handshake? This was like tapping gloves before a boxing match began.
"Thought we were gonna see what happens," I teased.
"Yeah, I'm done with that," he declared. "You holding back for my sake? Me holding back for yours?"
"Not working," I nodded.
"Right."
"You're going for it?" I clarified.
"Yup."
"I am too."
His eyes flashed. "Good."
"Good," I nodded, holding his gaze. "Game on then."
"Game on."
Whoever won, the loser would still be a good sport. Jackson and I were teammates, not rivals. If I managed to convince Bee to be with me, I wasn't going to drop him in the process. He'd still be Jackson Nye, my business partner and best friend.
And if he got her instead? Well fine, they'd have to deal with me sticking around too. I'd be a thorn in their side in the best possible way.
"And may the best man win," I added.
"As I'm clearly the best man here," Jackson said as squeezed my hand a little harder. "You're gonna lose." He smirked.
I tightened my grip. "I don't know what that word means," I grinned back.
All at once the front door banged open. "Jackson!" Bee's voice rang out. She sounded furious. "Finn! Where are you?"
I looked at Jackson. "Let the games begin," I grinned. He had an eager smile on his face that I'm sure mirrored my own. "Ready, set..."
He laughed as he shoulder-checked me on his way past. "Go!"
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Bee
I'd driven the rest of the way back to my shop in a carefully dead haze. Unwilling to even think about Finn and Jackson waiting for me there. Studiously avoiding the thought of them greeting me with their smiles — Finn's arrogant, eager one, Jackson's slow, dangerous one. I didn't think about their bodies, the way they were both so large they seemed to fill up the entire space of my shop so there was no way I could escape the heat that rose from their skin, or the mingled scent of them — Jackson smelling clean and fresh and of the herbs he used in cooking, Finn with a surprisingly dark, woodsy scent that I could somehow taste as well as smell.
I was so careful not to think at all that it took me several stupefied minutes of standing in the middle of my locked, empty shop to realize what was wrong.
"What the fuck?" I gasped as I stared at the empty shelves.
All of them. All the cupcakes I'd slaved over, frosting each one by hand. All of the honey buns, painstakingly glazed when they were the precise temperature to allow it to melt into that first crisp layer of sugar. All of the scones, kneaded by hand so the dough wouldn't get overworked. All of the cookies, timed precisely so the bottoms would get that perfectly caramelized crust.
They were all gone.
Every single one.
"What the fuck?!" I shouted into the empty shop. I whirled around as if the tables would give me an explanation. I'd been raided, completely cleaned out. I'd trusted these guys and they'd completely fucked me over.
I sank against my display case, hating them, but more, hating myself. My mother was right, I wasn't cut out to be on my own. That was why I needed someone to take care of me. First my parents, then Zach, gotta take care of Beatrix, her pretty little head can't handle
the real world.
It was one thing to hear her say it, it was another thing to realize she'd been right.
"No," I said firmly. "I can do this."
I marched to the door and flung it open, then went careening towards their half-finished restaurant with my blood thudding in my ears.
I slammed their door open and pushed my way through the plastic sheeting that hung in the entryway. "Finn!" I shouted. "Jackson?"
Jackson emerged from the kitchen as if he'd been waiting for me. For a moment I was paralyzed by the sight of him in his immaculate chef's whites, his tanned, almost olive skin set off by the blazing white. He brushed his hair back from his face and treated me to that slow, dangerous smile. "Hi Bee," he said.
Fresh rage flooded my system with adrenaline. "What the hell did you do?" I yelled rushing up and stabbing him in the chest with my finger. "I should call the goddamn police."
Jackson looked down to where my finger was stabbing in the center of his chest, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Something decidedly unsettling. I snatched my hand away like I was scalded, and glared at him.
"What happened to my inventory? What did you do?" He was still grinning that slanted grin that made me feel woozy. I shook my head. "You have five seconds to start talking," I told him firmly.
He grinned and I saw him tremble a little with laughter as he held up his hand. "One," he counted, holding up his fingers one at a time. "Two, three, four..."
"Are you mocking me?" I shouted.
"I sold them," he replied, then finished counting with a grin. "Five."
I froze. "How the hell...?" I whispered.
"Or rather," he gestured to where Finn was emerging from the kitchen. "We did."
Finn grinned proudly. "Did you check your register?" he asked. "Because you really need to make a drop, and I didn't know where you banked."
I stared at them open mouthed, utterly dumbfounded. All of my stock? That was enough for the next two days with plenty extra. "How did you do that?" I gasped.
Jackson smiled again, wider. "I can be very persuasive," he told me, letting his eyes drop down to my lips before bouncing back to my eyes.