by Kaylee, Katy
“Your husband gave me the financial specs, but I’ll need to know what you’re looking for. Location? Size? Are you open to places in which you’d need to install the kitchen or do you want me to look at former restaurants and other food establishments? I’m told you’ll be renting, but do you want me to look at potential lease purchase options too?”
My mind was buzzing with all these decisions. It wasn’t that I hadn’t ever considered them, but since the idea of having a bakery was so far off in the distance, I hadn’t come up with any answers.
“I…uh… There’s so much to consider. All I’ve really determined is that I’d like to have a part where people can eat in, so I’d like to include something like a coffee café.”
“Having a kitchen already there will allow you to get set up faster,” Jake walked in. His hair was wet, but he was back in his jeans and t-shirt. I guessed he’d taken a shower to cool down. “Ms. Lawrence.” He extended his hand.
“Mr. Dunne. You’ll be partners on this?”
Jake shook his head. “I’m going to help my wife with the financing and getting set up, but it will be one-hundred percent hers.”
My stomach did a little looptylou. My own bakery.
“How about location?” Jane asked.
“I had been thinking of Greenwich Village or East Village. Or maybe midtown near the park,” I said. I looked up at Jake. “What do you think?”
“It’s your dream. Your bakery.” He smiled but I could see it was an act for the realtor. The light of it didn’t reach his eyes.
We talked with Jane a little more until she said she had enough information to start looking. “I can stop by tomorrow evening with some options to consider.”
I nodded.
“Sofie’s off in the afternoon,” Jake said.
“Don’t you want to look too?” Jane asked.
He shook his head. “This is Sofie’s business. She doesn’t need my input.”
I felt both angry and guilty at his attitude. He didn’t need to be a jerk, even if I’d been the reason he was feeling surly.
“I’d like your input,” I said, hoping my annoyance at him wasn’t in my voice.
He stared at me for a long minute. “How about I meet you after your shift at the Worcester Hotel? We can meet at the coffee place around the corner. Around two?”
Jane poked at her phone, presumably adding the appointment. “I’ll be there.”
I walked Jane out and when I returned, Jake was having a strong drink while looking out over the park.
“Thank you for initiating that,” I said.
“Just doing my part of the deal.” He downed his drink and started to the kitchen. “I’ll do the dishes.”
I watched him go, wanting to say something to bring peace between us again. My initial thought though would likely provoke him because I wanted to tell him to stop acting like a martyr. But of course, I knew I was part of the problem. He was right that I’d wanted him, not just the other night, but five years ago, and I’d done what I had to do to make it happen. He didn’t fight me on it, and yet, I was sure if I hadn’t taken my clothes off and made my intentions clear, he wouldn’t have fucked me. Still, he could have handled things better too.
Not trusting myself to say something that would make it worse, I silently went to the kitchen and helped him with the dishes.
When we were done, he said, “I’m heading to bed.” He gave my arm a small squeeze before turning away. I supposed for us that was progress.
* * *
The next day, I met with Jane and Jake and she showed us some options on her tablet that already had kitchens and eat-in space, none of which seemed perfect. Even so, I made arrangements to see a few. Jake okayed whatever I wanted, but asked that I look at them first, and then he’d tour whatever I felt had potential.
As the days went on, I settled into a routine of going to work, baking for my online business and touring potential bakery sites. Jake and I lived like roommates, although some of the fun and banter we used to share was gone. I realized that the problem between us was sex. If we didn’t have sex and just engaged in friendly flirting, we were okay. In an effort to get that back, I made a big batch of yum yums under the guise of having him and his office help me pick my signature creations for my new bakery. Most were sweet, such as chocolate chip cookies, macarons, as well as Italian treats such as tiramisu, cannoli and biscotti, plus some savory items such as casatiello and Italian palmiers. It took me two days to make them all, but by Friday, I was ready to share.
I called Gina to set up the best time to visit the company where I wouldn’t be in the way, and people would be there to enjoy my treats. At three pm, after running home from work and gathering all my boxes of goodies, I entered Jake’s floor of his firm.
He was standing at a woman’s desk talking to her when he saw me. He frowned, but then I guess he realized I was supposed to be his loving wife and he smiled.
“Sofia. What are you doing here?”
“I brought some treats for your office. I thought they might enjoy them and perhaps help me pick which ones should be my signature offerings at my new bakery.” I lifted my face to him, and was annoyed that it took him a minute to realize he needed to kiss me. He did, but on the side of my lips.
“Oh, yum,” Gina said as she rushed up to us. “What do you have for us?”
“Why don’t we take these to the staff room?” Jake suggested, taking two of the four boxes I carried.
I followed him to the room and set up the treats. I’d barely had the fourth box opened before the room was filled with people, oohing and aahing over the goodies.
“Out of my way,” Val said as she muscled her way through. “If any are gone, I’ll fire you.”
I laughed. I stood to the side and watched as people enjoyed my food. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen people eat my treats. But they were mostly family and friends, or people from home. This time they were mostly strangers to me. They didn’t need to be nice or say good things about my food. This was the test about whether or not I had the quality and taste to have my own bakery.
“They really like your food,” Jake said.
“I’m glad.” I was probably grinning like a loon but I didn’t care. This was important.
“Jesus, better than my grandmother makes,” a man I didn’t know said as he stuffed his face with a cannoli. “Jake, you’re going to lose that svelte build if you eat like this at home.”
“Nah, they’re newlyweds. I bet they work it off every night,” another man said.
“The guy with the cannoli is Frank Rigiletto,” Jake murmured.
The Italian name suggested he knew good Italian treats, so I was pleased I’d outdone his grandmother.
“The one with no tact is Sy Conner,” he finished, draping an arm around me. I looked up, wondering if he just remembered he was supposed to be a proud husband. He leaned toward me. “If this is any indication, you’ll have a very successful bakery, Sof.” Then he kissed my temple. It made me feel warm inside that he was proud of me, until I remembered that it was fake.
Val approached us. “Are these all things you’ll have in your bakery?”
“I want to identify a few signature items; you know, things my bakery will be known for.”
“How about all of them? They’re delicious, Sof, really,” Val said, taking a bite of the palmier. “Wow. You must eat like a king every night, Jake.”
“Life is sweet.”
The reality was, we had takeout more than home-cooked, mostly because my side business took up a lot of the kitchen space and my time. He didn’t complain, although I’d told him I wouldn’t be a traditional wife, so he shouldn’t expect dinner on the table when he got home. Besides, he could cook too. Just because I was off earlier, didn’t mean I more time. I left for work earlier than he did.
“Oh, Mr. Wallace,” Val said as an older, rail thin gentleman with sharp piercing dark eyes walked in.
“Is there a party and I missed it?”
His voice was rough and annoyed.
“Come meet Jake Dunne’s wife who so graciously brought the firm some of her delicious treats,” Val apparently didn’t catch or didn’t care that Mr. Wallace wasn’t happy that I’d interrupted billable hours.
But the man stepped to where I stood with Jake and Val.
“Sofia, this is John Wallace, a senior partner at the firm. He started it with Jake’s uncle. This is Sofia Dunne, Jake’s new wife.”
Jake’s arm held me tighter and I found myself a little annoyed at the fake show of affection, even though that was what I’d signed up for.
“Mr. Wallace, I’m so sorry to have disrupted your work. I’m just so grateful for all the firm did to help with our wedding and the gifts. I especially appreciated yours. The Baccarat champagne flutes are so beautifully elegant and the Héloïse Lloris champagne, oh my, that had to cost a fortune. Jake and I are saving it for a special occasion, like when he makes partner, aren’t we honey?”
Jake stared at me in surprise, and then the light bulb went off. “Yes. That was very kind of you, sir,” Jake said, extending his hand to Mr. Wallace. “Thank you.”
Mr. Wallace’s expression suggested he had no idea he’d bought us a gift at all, which suggested his secretary or wife had. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying it.”
I looked over the room and figured I’d done my good deed. “I know you all have work to do, and I need to get home and start dinner.”
Jake’s head whipped around to me again with that same surprised expression.
“Honey, maybe sometime we can invite Mr. Wallace, and of course you too Val, for dinner,” I said to Jake.
Jake nodded. “Yes, we’d love to have you sometime.”
“Please Mr. Wallace, try some of the baked items I brought. Would you like me to pack some up to take home to your wife?” I moved to the table and began moving the remaining few baked goods around so I could get an empty box, which I then put an assortment of the treats in. I closed it up and handed it to Mr. Wallace. “Thank you again so much, Mr. Wallace.”
His expression was a little stunned as he took the box. “Ah, thank you Mrs. Dunne.”
“Oh please, call me Sofia.”
He nodded and started to the door. “Party is over in ten minutes.”
“Yes sir,” Val said and then laughed once he was out of the room. “You’re good,” she said to me.
I grinned. “I aim to please.”
Jake’s expression was unreadable as he leaned over to me. “Can I talk to you alone…dear?”
“Yes, of course.” I was smiling as I let him lead me out of the staff room, but inside I was uneasy. Had I done something wrong?
He went to his office and closed the door behind me. Then he just stood and stared at me.
I began to feel self-conscious. “Did I mess up?”
He shook his head.
“Are you sure, because your expression says I did.”
“I’m trying not to kiss you.”
That took me by surprise. Not just that he wanted to kiss me, but that I wished he would.
“So, I did okay?”
He nodded. “How did you remember what he bought us?”
“Because I opened the wedding gifts and did the thank you notes.” Since the wedding was fake, we’d considered donating all the items given to us. But I argued that we at least had to open them and send thank you notes, which I did over the course of the week that I was mad at him about the annulment issue. We donated most, but kept the champagne. “Did I lay it on too thick about the partner thing? I mean, that’s what my job is, to help you get your partnership.”
“I think it was just right. It showed pride and belief in your husband.”
I studied him for a minute. Jake Dunne was one of those men whose good looks and cocky attitude could make one believe he lacked any substance. While he could drive me nuts, he was a good man. He worked hard. He was loyal and stuck to his commitments.
“I believe in you, Jake. And I’m proud of you,” I said.
“As my wife?”
“As your friend. And while I’m here, I should probably apologize for my part in the honeymoon. You’re right. It wasn’t right for me to seduce you and then regret it.”
He blew out a breath. “And I’m sorry I didn’t clarify the annulment law with you when you first mentioned it.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Are you really going to say you’re impotent?”
He winced. “I’d rather not, but it may be the best option, especially since we probably shouldn’t have sex again.”
My girlie parts didn’t like that, although my head had already decided it was for the best.
“It never seems to go well,” he said.
“Oh?” He didn’t like having sex with me?
“The actual act is…fantastic, but afterward, I always end up hurting you somehow. The one thing I want for us when this is all said and done, Sofia, is that we stay friends.”
Something about his words made me sad, although I couldn’t figure out why. “I want that too.”
He extended his hand. I clasped mine in his and shook, this time making the deal to preserve our friendship no matter what.
12
Jake
Once Sofia and I were back on an even keel, life went pretty smoothly. I was the most popular lawyer at the firm on days I brought in Sofia’s baked goods, and I always made sure Wallace and other executive partners got a few before they were gone, to remind them of my stable married status.
The only thing that had changed was my schedule. Before Sofia, I’d work an average of twelve and often sixteen-hour days. But I found that I enjoyed spending the evenings with Sofia, so adjusted my schedule more to fit hers, which got me to work by six-thirty and allowed me to leave by six-thirty or seven. We shared dinner duties and sometimes I’d help her with her baking or packing up orders to go out.
Domestic life wasn’t that bad. We settled into a routine at home of married friends without benefits. Occasionally, the no-benefits part was frustrating because Sofia was fun and feisty, a sexy combination. But sex had messed up our friendship both times before, so it was better that I kept my hands off her.
That didn’t mean I didn’t think about her when my hand was in the service of my own pleasure. My go-to fantasy nearly every morning in the shower was her in her red apron, and only her apron, on her knees with her sexy pouty red lips on my dick. Another good one was her frosting her cupcakes, also only in her apron, and my fucking her from behind.
Only two things that eluded me at the moment were my partnership and landing George Lipman as a client. But I was hard at work dealing with the latter. I’d learned he was going to be at a children’s benefit gala and I was able to secure tickets for Sofia and me. They cost a fortune, but if they helped me get closer to getting George as a client, it was a worthwhile investment. The other investment was in a new dress for Sofia. I thought she should wear the red one she’d worn to the firm’s anniversary party, but she insisted it wasn’t good enough for a highbrow party.
The dress she chose looked elegant and sophisticated hanging on the hanger, but when I first saw her in it the night of the gala, I knew I had a new fantasy to jerk off to. She said it was a mermaid style, and while the fabric was the color of champagne, the beading was silver and black in a style that looked antique. But it was the fit; the way it hugged her breasts and hips and dipped low in the back that had my dick responding. She was elegant and sexy and I was fucking proud to call her my wife as we entered the ballroom for the event.
I kept my hand low on her back, letting my thumb gently rub the soft skin there. It was all I could do to keep my mind on my goal, George Lipman, and not on Sofia.
“There he is,” I said, nodding toward George. He wore a tux like I did. His silver hair was combed back and he wore his signature dark thick-rimmed glasses. I nudged Sofia toward him.
“I don’t think you should go up to him,” she said.
“T
hat’s the point of all this.”
She reached up and smoothed my lapel. “But you don’t want it to be obvious. You don’t want to look desperate.” She was right.
“I need to play it cool? Accidentally run into him?”
She nodded. “He’s over by the dance floor. Perhaps we could dance and he could notice you.”
“I’m not sure he’d bother to take the time to say hello on his own accord.”
She frowned. “All that work you’ve done to woo him and he’d ignore you? I don’t believe it.”
“I guess we’ll find out.” We had all evening to bump into George, and Sofia was right in that I didn’t want to appear too eager or desperate. So I took her hand and led her to the dance floor.
I hadn’t had Sofia in my arms since we’d had sex on our honeymoon. She snapped right into place, just like she had during our wedding dance.
“I should probably apologize now,” I whispered against her ear as I pulled her to me and began to sway to the sound of old standards.
“For what?” She looked up at me. Her dark brown eyes widened as she felt my semi-erect dick against her belly.
I gave her a sheepish smile. “You look great in that dress.” She smelled great. She felt great. Inwardly I groaned and wished we had the ability to manage a friends-with-benefits situation.
“You must have a very difficult time when you’re among beautiful women. How would you ever manage if this was one of those charity fashion shows?”
“He’s usually pretty docile.” As I said it, I realized that it was around Sofia that I had a hard time keeping my libido down. “He seems to like you.”
Her eyes stared into mine as if she was seeking a deeper meaning to my statement. Not wanting her to think I was trying to change the rules of our agreement, I pulled her close so her head was looking over my shoulder.
We danced a little, and in an effort to get control of my dick, I scanned the room again for George. He was on the edge of the dance floor talking to someone whose back was to me. His eyes flicked over in my direction. Recognition shone in them. I gave him a nod to acknowledge him, but then kept dancing.