After a moment, Tate continued as he stared down at his hands. “My dad’s a great man. Not sure how well you know him, but he used to be able to do so much more. Really he could do anything.” The words came out like a ten-year-old boy who had just seen his father hit a home run.
Lexy didn’t need to see his eyes to recognize the feeling. “He was your hero,” she stated, not asking.
His head turned to her again. “Still is.” A moment passed between them, then, an understanding, before he continued. “So, what did you do before becoming a future entrepreneur?”
“Still do…part-time now. I’m an underwriter.”
“Well that’s only like the complete opposite of baking.”
“I know, right.”
“Do you like that kind of work?”
That was the first time anyone had ever asked her that, so she paused before answering. “Compared to baking? No. But it’s all right. It’s how I met Julian.” She flinched inwardly. Damn, why do I tell him these things?
“Was he your boss?” Tate arched his brows.
“It wasn’t like that.” But, how was it then?
“Whatever you say.”
“Stop that. You don’t even know him.”
“I have an idea. I’ve seen him here before, and that told me a lot.”
Surprised, Lexy drew in a breath. “You have?”
“Let’s see. Average height, slicked, Richard Gere type hair, gluttonously dressed, uptight…most likely controlling. How am I doing?”
Her mouth hung open before she realized it. Her mind raced to decide if she should defend her fiancé against Tate’s dead-on depiction. She might have laughed if she didn’t feel so awkward and obligated to remain loyal.
When she didn’t speak, he continued. “And, a little too white bread looking for a spicy Latino type girl such as yourself. Plus two control freaks together…I don’t know about that.”
Two sets of eyes challenged each other for what seemed like a full minute. Her pulse increased with a mix of uncertainty and irritation. Should she allow him to speak to her like that? To be fair, it wasn’t like she was offended. In fact, it was the complete opposite. A moment later she simply said, “Half.”
Confusion drew upon Tate’s face, and he tilted his head.
“I’m half Hispanic,” she said. “My mother’s from Mexico and my dad was white.”
He threw his head back to cough out some mock laughter. “That’s what you pull out of everything I said? Nothing about my evaluation of your fiancé?”
Lexy stared him down, contemplating her next response. Before she could say anything, A whoosh of air came across them. A female voice boomed from the entry of the doorway, drawing their heads that way. “Hey, why are you wearin’ my Janet Jackson shirt?” Mrs. Granger said from the open door.
Chapter 6
Lexy gaped across the kitchen counter at Mimi licking the last of the frosting off of the cupcake she was holding. “If you were going to do that, why didn’t you just lick the bowl?”
“It’s more fun this way,” Mimi said, tongue sticking halfway out, covered in creamy white fluff.
“Well, are you going to eat the rest of it?”
“No way. Can’t afford the calories.” She smirked and set the treat on the counter.
The heat from the oven permeated the already roasting apartment even though temperatures had dropped some as of late. An oscillating fan stood propped on the counter, blowing across the girls and providing momentary relief. Two large bowls filled with batter sat near the sink.
“You’re skinnier than I am…and you’re supposed to be my tester,” Lexy said.
“You’re skinny. You just can’t tell with that huge rack of yours.”
Lexy’s response was to toss a potholder at Mimi’s head.
“Hey,” she said, blocking the flying object. “Okay, one bite to make up for the comment about your tits.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Mimi pulled at the cupcake wrapper and nibbled the cakey brown edge. “Mmm. That’s good. Oh yeah, baby. So sweet.”
Lexy laughed but put a fist on her hip. “C’mon, seriously? I need to know. Take a bigger bite.”
“God, it’s so damn good I don’t know if I can handle bigger.”
Lexy reached a hand toward Mimi. “How about if I shove the whole thing down your throat?”
“Okay, okay.” A bigger bite had Mimi chewing slowly with a thoughtful expression on her face. “Yep…yep. I think you should call it Chocolate Climax. It’s that freaking good.”
“You’re not just saying that?”
“Do I ever bullshit you?”
“No, but you also love everything I make.”
“That’s ‘cause you’re an amazing baker. Someday that’ll pay off. So how’s everything going with that, anyway? Mr. Moneybags give you the dough yet?”
“I told you, he’s not giving me money.” With a swift hand, Lexy wiped crumbs into a pile and then dragged them over the edge into a waiting trash can. “He’s helping me with the loan.”
“Why not wait until you’re married, and then you can just write out a check as Mrs. Julian Dunham?”
“Because, I want to do this on my own.”
Mimi bent her head down for emphasis as she stared at Lexy, expressionless.
“Okay, so it’s not totally on my own. So I’ve got shitty credit. What? Why are you still staring at me like that?”
“I’m just…worried. You’ve got a lot of hopes and dreams wrapped up in this thing with Julian.”
“This thing is called getting married.”
“I know. I just want you to be sure that you’re doing it because you know he’s the one.” She paused, licking a fingertip. “And that’s the only reason.”
“So you think I’m marrying him for his money?”
“No…but I worry that maybe it has something to do with…your mom.”
Lexy shook her head, grabbed a paper towel to wipe her hands. “Julian’s trying to get my mother back here because he loves me. Don’t you think that’s an amazing thing to do?”
“Yeah…it’s amazing.” That sounded more like a question than a statement.
“There’s no motive here, Mimi.”
“I’m just thinking about…”
“That’s ancient history,” Lexy shot out, hoping to quell the bitter memory of their last breakup. “Julian can be controlling, yes. But he doesn’t control me. He understands that now.” As the next words came out of her mouth, her voice cracked. “He’s not going to do anything like that again.”
“I hope you’re right.” Her reply was bathed in doubt.
A knock at the door sounded right before she replied, “I am.” She gave Mimi an encouraging smile before heading to answer it.
“Tate!” she said, opening the door. Her voice sounded too much like Sandy in Grease. Her smile faded at the realization.
After the laundry room incident, Tate had shown up at her apartment three times in two weeks. The first time was to tell her the washer had been fixed. They’d shared a laugh about the clothes they ended up in that day, but Lexy couldn’t help her mind from going back to the moment when her body had lain upon his solid frame. Another time she’d passed him in the hall and asked him to help her hang a set of sconces. He’d stayed to talk for almost an hour, but seemed to be sticking to his deal to remain friends. He’d even taken to calling her Lexy instead of Kitten, causing her chest to unexpectedly tighten in disappointment. The final time was last week when he’d stopped by to thank her for bringing Ray some specially prepared diabetes-friendly cupcakes.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she’d said when he gave her a potted lavender flower plant.
“It’s not a big deal.” A shy smile had shown for a second before disappearing just as quickly. “Besides, there’s a chip on the rim of the pot. I’d just end up marking it down.”
Lexy hadn’t fought a persistent grin. She also hadn’t kept her eyes from noticing him in workou
t gear, obviously on the way to the gym. “All right. Thank you.”
She hadn’t told Julian about her new friendship, either, knowing without a doubt what his response would be. Now she noted that the visits were coming closer together and Tate always found a plausible excuse to drop by. This time, a book held firmly in his grasp caught Lexy’s eye.
“What’s that?” she said, attempting to keep her tone casual.
“Oh.” He stepped into the apartment uninvited. “It’s just a cookbook I came across.”
“Hey, Tate.” Mimi rose from her chair and stepped toward the entryway. She didn’t wait for his reply. “I’ll call you later, Lex. Craig’s taking me to dinner tonight.”
“Hi, Mimi,” Tate said. “Craig, huh?”
Mimi stopped short of the door, turning in surprise. “What?”
“Nothing, just…two dates in a row, same guy,” Tate said.
Mimi shot a pair of scolding eyes Lexy’s way, causing her to wince. “Well, he’s a fireman. What can I say, I couldn’t resist.”
After the door closed behind Mimi, Lexy said, “Thanks a lot.”
“What? She’s cool, I like her. I was just playing around.”
“Lucky for you she really doesn’t give a crap that we talk behind her back.”
They both let out a burst of quick laughter and then stood in stroppy silence, their eyes lingering on each other. “Um…the book?” Lexy said.
“Right. Here.” He thrust it at her in a quick, awkward motion.
Lexy accepted the book and walked it over to the couch. Tate followed and sat next to her so his thigh touched hers. He watched as she silently flipped through the pages. She turned her head to give him a smile. “Thank you. This was really sweet of you.”
“What are friends for?” The words contradicted his longing expression. His gaze fell down to her mouth. His breathing shallowed, seeming to come in time with her own thin breaths.
Lexy struggled for an answer, her tongue touching her lips at the thought of his eyes watching them. Friends, yeah. That’s what they were, right? She swallowed. “Yeah.” She said it so quietly she wasn’t sure it had come out.
His eyes snapped from her mouth back up to meet her gaze. Then, he blinked out of his trance and said, “So…Kit, I mean Lex…Lexy…” A bright set of teeth flashed at her when he gave up on using words.
She put her hand on his arm. “It’s okay. Call me whatever you want.”
Tate encircled her wrist with his other hand and pulled it off his arm. He offered her a confident expression before turning her hand toward him. “Who’s Andrea?” he said, reading what she’d scribbled on her palm.
“It’s pronounced On-dray-ah. She’s my aunt. It’s to remind me about her birthday.” Saying her name made her heart ache; sadness took over her expression.
“What’s wrong?”
“She’s like a second mom to me. My aunt…and my mom…are both in Mexico. I probably won’t be celebrating with them this year.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, looking at the fact that he was still holding her wrist. Gently, he slipped her hand into his. Rough and strong, so completely opposite of Julian’s hands, Tate’s skin was surprisingly comforting to the touch. “Is there something else? You seem more upset than just about a missed birthday.”
She paused, wondering if it was smart to start sharing their lives. But she wanted Tate to know some things about her. “About ten years ago, when I was fifteen, my mother and aunt got deported back to Mexico. They had overstayed their visas. It hit me hard, but instead of being sad I just started rebelling and acting like a little shit. It brought my father and me closer once I came around, but now since my dad’s gone I’ve sort of felt lost and missing them more than ever.”
Lexy hadn’t noticed Tate rubbing her hand until she stopped talking, but she didn’t pull away. What she really wanted was to have him wrap his capable arms around her and to sink into his embrace. Julian had never been the comforting type. His solution was always to throw money at any problem. Could she really fault him for that, though, since that’s exactly what he was doing for her now? Maybe not, but was it so wrong to want someone to help make her feel better? Friends should be allowed to comfort each other.
“Wow, I had no idea. I’m sorry, Kitten.” His words rang soft in her ear as Tate, reading her mind, slipped a hand behind her, landing smoothly on her back.
For about five seconds, Lexy melted into his consoling touch before guilt yanked her ass back to reality. Don’t be so weak. She sat up straight, dislodged her hand from his before turning her attention toward the kitchen and smelling smoke. “Shit! My cupcakes.” She bolted from the couch, ran to the oven, and yanked the door open. “I’ve never done this! Jeez, Tate!”
“What the hell?” he said, getting up to follow her. “What did I do?”
Black crusty mounds smoked in the pan she now held. “I’m sorry, it’s not your fault.” She dumped the burnt cakes in the trash, then dropped the pan in the sink. “Can you open that window? It’s starting to stink in here.”
“This thing is jammed,” he said, yanking on the metal edge.
Lexy collapsed in a chair. “That sucks,” she said, staring at the still open oven, which hadn’t cleared of smoke yet. “You’ve got to bang that window to loosen it. Then, it’ll open.”
Once he pulled the window open, he said, “What the hell is with your place?”
“It’s an old building, Tate.”
“Yeah, well according to my Dad’s maintenance records, your place gets most of the repair requests.”
His look lit her defensive fires. “Hey, I’m the one fixing the stuff, not breaking it. But I don’t remember it being this bad when my dad lived here, so I guess it’s gotten worse over time.”
“This was his apartment?”
“Yeah, I took over his lease when he died.”
Tate closed the distance between them. “I guess it makes you feel close to him.”
“It does. Julian hates that I keep living here, but I’m doing my best to make it work until the lease is up.”
“Your dad would be proud of you. But, I think he’d understand if you left.” Tate leaned over, took hold of the oven door, and pulled it closed. A metal creak rang out as the handle came loose then fell to the floor with a clank. “Shit!”
Chapter 7
Cool air slammed Lexy in the face as she let herself in to Julian’s condo. She didn’t dare adjust the system, so she went right to his closet and slipped on one of his sweatshirts. A sweatshirt. During a heat wave! Compromise, Lexy. She reminded herself that was part of any good marriage. He was due to arrive late that night from another business trip and wanted Lexy waiting in his bed.
For the most part, he kept his place neat and organized, but Lexy put her own touch on the kitchen. That was her domain, and she often baked there when she had the chance. Julian had purchased a boatload of supplies to entice her to consider living at the condo.
Back at her own place, she’d told Tate to let himself in to see if he could fix the handle on the oven door. Mimi had given her crap about her sudden change over trying to fix things herself. Lexy didn’t agree that it was prompted by Tate’s arrival. She argued that it only helped her now that she was so busy. Looking back, she had been defensive about the whole thing, only fueling Mimi’s accusations.
Her phone alerted her to a text while she walked to the kitchen. She smiled, seeing it was from Tate. Had a floral emergency, but Dad said he’d take care of the handle for you while you’re gone. And, he said to tell you thanks for helping Mrs. Granger with that loose cupboard. You did a nice job, Kitten.
Even reading the name Kitten had an effect on her, but she shook it away. She considered not replying, just to prove a point, but felt that would be rude. So, she quickly typed out, Thank you, and then set her phone on the counter. “See, I still fix things,” she said to no one. And that cupboard hadn’t been easy to fix while listening to plot summaries from Mrs. Granger.
/> The refrigerator portrayed an odd scene. More than half empty, the immediate visual was that of someone who couldn’t afford much. At further inspection, some of the contents showed otherwise. Along with a few dairy essentials were a six-pack of some dark specialty beer, two packages of Iberico Samplers, an unopened box of gourmet chocolate, and a half-full bottle of Krug Grand Cuvee. Julian would most likely let that go to waste, so she giddily poured herself a glass before retiring to the couch to watch TV.
Nothing kept her attention so she gave up flipping through channels and zoned out to a re-run of Will and Grace. Oh, how she’d love to have a “Will” of her own. Why couldn’t Tate be gay, dammit? Things would be less complicated, and she’d have a man who met all her needs…well, most of them. Lexy laughed at herself and the ridiculous things she mused about, coming to the conclusion that she was probably just missing her dad or feeling lonely with her fiancé gone. Gay or not, Julian wouldn’t allow Tate to become a part of Lexy’s life, so she wondered what the hell she was doing even trying to be friends. Yet, somehow, her mind seemed to slide in his direction, working free of her will to avoid it.
When she finally gave up on television, she showered and got ready for bed. Knowing Julian would be slipping into bed at some point, she planned to go topless with a pair of light-blue silk panties. She sat on the edge of the bed, setting her phone alarm for the morning when she noticed something sticking out from under the nightstand. It looked like a business card. She slid it out with her toe, then bent over to retrieve it. Her stomach sank when she flipped the card over and saw the name of the business: Bowers’ Flowers.
Her mind shot back to when she’d received the card from Tate. What had she done with it? It was possible it was in her pocket or purse and slipped out when she was there. Her heart beat faster as various reasons for the card’s presence ran through her mind, none of which would end well. No, this wasn’t happening again. Panic shot through her system, almost causing her to get dressed and go home to see if she still had the card. Instead, she took it to her purse and shoved it into a slot in the back. No matter what the reason, she needed to have faith in Julian. Otherwise, how could she ever consider marrying him?
High Maintenance (A Novella) Page 4