by Kelsie Rae
I laugh while shaking my head at how easily she forgave me.
Me: Meh. I already called your boyfriend and asked him if he wanted to get drinks so we can get to know each other. Pretty sure that’s better than fries.
Sophie: Debatable. But thank you. He already told me. If you hadn’t, it would’ve taken more than a bouquet of flowers and a bag of fresh fries. Just sayin’.
Me: I’m glad you got the flowers.
Sophie: I did. Thank you.
Sophie: See? I can play nice.
I laugh at her banter before Natalie comes to the forefront of my mind. Tapping my thumbs lightly against the screen, I debate if I should lead the conversation where I want it to continue, or if I should let it go. Natalie’s whereabouts are none of my business.
My jaw clenches for about two seconds before my fingers move on their own.
Me: So…does Natalie usually stay out late during the week?
Sophie: She’s not home?
I slowly breathe in through my nose, making sure to count to ten before I lose my shit on a girl who doesn’t deserve it.
My phone rings seconds later as I release the pent-up oxygen in my lungs.
“Hey,” I grunt.
“Hi,” Sophie replies. “She got off work at least two hours ago. I just texted her, but she hasn’t responded yet.” A rush of adrenaline pulses through me. “Look, I’m sure she’s fine,” she continues, sensing my frustration. “Seriously. This is Natalie we’re talking about. She’s Mrs. Responsible and never does anything unpredictable. Hell, she probably mentioned where she was going today at the bakery, and I was just distracted, so I didn’t hear her. I’m sure she’s fine. It’s just….”
“Just what, Soph?” I grit out.
“I dunno…. She’s been kind of distant lately, but I think that’s partly my fault. I’ve been so consumed by the pregnancy and Nathan and moving that…I’ve kind of been a crappy friend.” She releases the last bit on a sigh. The sound acts like a vise around my chest and calls out to the big brother in me.
“You’re not a crappy friend.”
A soft sniffle echoes through the speakers. “I kind of have been,” she admits sadly. “I’m going to set up some girl time. I think we both need it. But…if you could try to talk to her? I dunno. Maybe that’s a bad idea. It’s just…something’s up with her, and if she isn’t coming home in the evenings? Where could she be?”
I don’t know how I got to this position, but I find myself pacing in my bedroom like a caged beast by the time she’s finished talking, practically wearing a hole in the already worn carpet.
Before I have a chance to answer her, the front door squeaks open. My back is ramrod straight as I mumble, “She just got home.”
“K. Don’t get mad at her. It’ll only piss her off.”
I laugh dryly. “No promises.”
Hitting the end button, I make my way down the short hallway and to the kitchen.
Natalie jumps a mile into the air before covering her chest with her hand. “Crap! You scared me!”
My eyes narrow. “Did you forget you don’t live here alone anymore?”
She shrugs before laughing awkwardly. “Yeah, actually. I kind of did. Sorry.”
I’m not sure why, but the thought stings. She’s always on my mind, whether I want her there or not, yet she somehow forgot I was sleeping across the hall?
“It’s nothing personal,” she adds. “There’s just been a lot on my mind. That’s all.” Natalie peeks over at me before tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.
“It’s fine,” I growl. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
She smiles softly and nods, silently accepting my apology.
“So, where have you been?” I begin the interrogation like a bull, charging ahead without considering the consequences. If Sophie doesn’t know where she disappeared to then…she’s right. Something’s up.
Her brows raise at my bluntness. “Excuse me?”
“Well…do you always come home this late?”
“Not always…” she hedges.
“Where were you?” My voice is sharp, and she flinches at the thinly veiled accusation in my tone before bristling right before my eyes.
“I’m sorry...what the hell makes you think that’s any of your business?” She folds her arms across her chest before quirking her brow in a silent challenge.
Tilting my head to the side, I assess her. She’s in the same clothes from earlier. A pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt that’s way too tight. I refrain from rolling my eyes. There’s a faint, chalky patch of white on her pants that I assume is flour. Its presence confirms that she wasn’t on a date, and the thought instantly calms me. Her hair that was down earlier is now in a loose ponytail with wisps falling out, suggesting she’s exhausted and didn’t have the energy to put it back up.
“You look tired,” I note. My voice softens.
With narrowed eyes, she huffs, “I hate when people say stuff like that. It’s a nice way of saying you look like shit.”
My lips tilt up in amusement. “You don’t look like shit.”
Her brows practically reach her hairline at the almost compliment that just slipped out of my mouth.
“You just look…tired.” I grin, enjoying my teasing.
She shakes her head while trying to contain a smile of her own. “That’s because I am tired. Now, if you’ll excuse me….” Natalie goes to step around me, but I stop her by gently grasping her bicep.
Tsking, I continue, “Nope. Not until you tell me where you were.”
“It’s none of your business, Marcus.”
My grip tightens for a split second. Not enough to hurt her, just enough to soak up a little more of her warmth and to show her who’s boss. Her gaze slides to mine, heating instantly.
“Sophie’s worried about you.” The partial truth tastes bitter on my tongue. At this particular moment, I don’t give a shit about Sophie’s feelings. I only care about my own, and I hate needing to hide behind my little sister to conceal them.
Natalie huffs out a sigh of indignation. “She wouldn’t be worried if you hadn’t blabbered to her that I wasn’t home yet.”
“So, you admit it’s out of the ordinary for you to get home so late?”
“What? You’re a lawyer now?” she spits.
Damn she’s feisty tonight.
“Natalie. Just answer the question. Where were you? And why do you feel like you need to hide things from Soph? She’s your best friend. You’ve always told each other everything.”
My sincerity seems to hit its mark as I see her visibly soften right before my eyes.
“It’s nothing, Marcus. Promise. I’ll talk to her about it later, okay?”
I lean forward, making sure I have her full attention. “But you won’t talk to me?”
I watch as she swallows thickly before licking her lips. Her eyes dart around the room, avoiding me completely. “Goodnight, Marcus.”
She slides out from my grasp and heads down the hallway without looking back. My gaze is glued to her hips as they sway back and forth before disappearing into her room.
“Goodnight, Natalie.”
Chapter Six
Natalie
“Where are you off to?” Sophie asks as I take off my Get Baked apron and hang it on the rack in the back of the bakery.
“Huh?” I heard her just fine it’s just that…I’ve been disappearing for weeks now, and she’s never bothered to notice before.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the negative thoughts swirling in my brain. I’m being too critical of Sophie, and that’s not fair to her. She’s the best friend a girl could ever ask for. If anything, I’ve been the shitty friend.
The realization stings.
She probably hasn’t noticed I’ve been disappearing and simply assumed I was going home after a long day at work. And I know, without a doubt, that a certain roommate who shall not be named is the one who tipped her off to my other activities.
B
astard.
“I asked where you’re going….” She smiles before following my actions and hanging up her apron.
“Oh. Umm….” I hesitate for about two seconds before looking over at my best friend and seeing her open acceptance written across her face. The familiarity calms me instantly. “I’m just heading over to Charmant. Chef Thomas has been giving me cooking lessons lately.”
Her eyes open wide in shock. “Huh?”
I laugh. “I know…it’s not that big of a deal. Chef Thomas has been giving me cooking lessons. It’s actually really fun.”
Chef Thomas is a badass French chef and the nicest guy on the planet. If he weren’t happily married and old enough to be my dad, I might even have a crush on the guy. But alas, that particular role has been given to my current roommate.
Except the jerk has no idea. And he never will, either.
Nope.
No way.
Not gonna happen.
“Oh. Well, that’s…” she searches for the right word, “fun! How long have you been doing that?”
“Since we got back from Indie and Rhett’s wedding. During their reception, I started talking with him about how much I love working at Get Baked and how I’d love to learn about cooking, too. He offered to teach me a few things and...yup.” I shrug, pretending it’s not that big of a deal when, in reality, I’m kind of in love with it.
“That’s awesome, Noogie! I’m so happy for you! But...why didn’t you tell me?” I can tell she’s trying to keep the hurt from seeping into her voice, but I hear it, nonetheless.
Aaand there’s the guilt again.
Cautiously, I pull her into a hug before confessing, “I’m so sorry, Tink. I guess I felt guilty, because you had so much going on that I didn’t want to bug you with my stuff too.”
She sniffles then steps away and reaches for the box of tissues on the counter. After blowing her nose, she replies, “Natalie, you should never feel that way. We’ve always told each other everything, and I don’t want that to stop just because I found someone.” She pauses for a second as her lower lip trembles. “But I’m sorry too. I’ve totally ditched you, haven’t I? I’m the worst friend ever.”
I shake my head as a sad smile appears on my face. “No, you’re not. You’ve been busy. We’ve both been busy. But that’s no excuse. We’re better than this.”
She nods in agreement. “Hell yes we are! And from now on, we’re going to get back to being awesome and not shitty, okay?”
I grin. “Agreed.”
“How about we grab dinner tonight or something? You have your,” she waves her hand, “cooking thing, and I have a doctor appointment. Maybe we can meet up after? Catch up? Just me and you?”
“Yes! I think that’s a genius idea!” I gush, pulling her into another hug.
She returns it with one of her own by wrapping her arms around me. Seeing the time on the clock that hangs on the back wall, my eyes bug out of my head.
“Crap! I’ve got to go! I’m going to be late, and Chef Thomas does not like late people! I’ll talk to you tonight, okay?”
She waves at my retreating form. “Yup! Bye, Noogie! Love you!”
“Love you too!” I call over my shoulder, feeling like a giant weight has been lifted.
I really needed that talk with my best friend, but I won’t admit to Marcus that I’m grateful he spilled the beans.
Not a chance in hell.
After swinging open the doors to Charmant, Chef Thomas’s restaurant, I race to the kitchen then grab my apron and tie it around my waist.
“Sorry I’m late!” I apologize to Chef Thomas. “Sophie and I had to have a little chat, and I lost track of time. Anyway…” I pause to catch my breath. “What’s up with you?”
Chef Thomas tsks before shaking his head. “Mon apprenti, time management is tres important in cooking, but it is tres important in life, as well. Tomorrow, you will be on time, non?”
I scrunch up my face at his reprimanding, feeling bad for my tardiness. “Je suis desole,” I offer, apologizing in French. My crappy accent is enough to bring a smile to his face.
“Tu es pardonne,” he forgives me. “Let us begin.”
And with that, we start on the miniature baguettes for the tables then finish with a roux sauce that will be needed for the chicken pot pie. I don’t remember the French words he called the dish, but that’s pretty much what it is. I roll my eyes as he explains in detail how to slice the carrots properly.
“Mon apprenti, you want the carrots to be the correct size so that they will be the parfait texture when cooked with the potatoes, peas, and carrots. Bien?”
I nod before stifling a yawn behind my hand.
“Pourquoi are you so tired?” he asks, furrowing his brows as he assesses the bags under my eyes.
“I guess I’m a little stressed, and it’s been messing with my sleep,” I admit.
“Pourquoi?”
“Honestly?” I look up at him as my hands stop their chopping.
Chef Thomas crosses his arms over his chest, silently urging me to continue.
Clearing my throat, I expound, “I don’t know…I feel like I’ve been living a double life ever since I started coming here. I’m Sophie’s friend, and the girl from Get Baked, and then I’m Chef Thomas’s apprentice, and the girl with no money.” I laugh dryly. “I guess that’s more like a quadruple life? Anyway...it’s kind of rough sometimes.”
He nods in understanding. “Have you not told them yet?”
I chew on my lower lip before offering, “I told Sophie that you’ve been teaching me how to cook.”
His brows furrow before asking, “And that is all?”
I turn my attention back to the cutting board that’s holding the carrots. “Let’s just keep cooking….”
“And have you made your decision?” he presses.
Narrowing my eyes, my gaze darts over to him before returning to the knife in my hand. “Not yet.”
“I need to know soon, mon apprenti. Opportunities such as these do not come often.”
My heart starts to pound in my chest at the mere mention of it, and my throat turns into sandpaper as I try to find my voice. “I know.”
Chapter Seven
Natalie
The chicken pot pie goes off without a hitch, and I’m grateful for the praise I get when he examines my neatly cut carrots that were cooked to perfection. I do need to add a pinch more celery salt next time, though, I admonish myself as I make my way into my apartment building.
When my phone rings in my purse, and Nathan’s name flashes across the screen, I answer it with confusion.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” a gruff voice replies. “This is Nathan.”
A teasing smile touches my face. “I know, Nathan. Hi.”
“Hi. I just got off the phone with Sophie, and she’s freaking out.”
“Why? What’s wrong? Is everything okay? How’d her doctor appointment go?” The questions tumble from my mouth like rocks rolling down a hill, picking up momentum as each one slips out of my mouth. “Oh no, are the babies all right? I mean—”
“Everything’s fine,” Nathan reassures me. “She’s freaking out because my parents surprised us with tickets to a Broadway show tonight, and she’s adamant she can’t go because she has dinner with you, but she also doesn’t want to offend my parents.”
A sigh of relief escapes me before quickly being followed by resigned disappointment.
“It’s fine, Nathan. I get it.”
“It’s not fine. My parents were trying to be kind, but they sometimes forget that the rest of us still have lives, and our schedules don’t revolve around theirs. That being said, them inviting us to a play is kind of a big deal, and Sophie understands that too, which puts her in a shitty situation.”
Nathan’s parents are basically a couple of rich, selfish jerks. They created an insanely lucrative dating website and have been unhappily married ever since. They’re so obsessed with the numbers on their payche
cks that they’ll sacrifice anything to keep them coming. They’ve been ignoring good ol’ Nathan since he was a little kid until Sophie encouraged Nathan to give their relationship another push. He hesitantly agreed and has been reaching out to them ever since. The fact that they invited Sophie and Nathan anywhere is a pretty big deal, and I feel bad that Sophie’s and my impromptu get together is causing so much stress.
“It really is okay, Nathan. I get it. Sophie and I can grab dinner another time.” I try to hide my disappointment, but I don’t think I fool him.
As I pull out my keys, placing them in the lock, he continues. “Name a day, Natalie. Any day of the week. Any time. And Sophie will be there. The bill’s on me, so go crazy. And no, it’s not because of any financial trouble that a little fairy might have mentioned. It’s because you’re doing me a huge favor tonight, and I owe you. Big time.”
I can hear his sincerity, and I appreciate it. It’s just another bit of evidence that Nathan’s feelings for Sophie are genuine, which is all a best friend like me could ever really ask for.
“You don’t need to do that,” I argue.
“Yes. I really do. Talk to Sophie, figure out the details, and I’ll send my credit card with her. Hell, make a day out of it. Massages, pedicures, and shit––the works.”
I grin at his phrase, and shit, before opening the door and placing my purse on the kitchen counter. “Deal.”
“Perfect. I gotta go and tell Sophie to stop beating herself up and get ready, so I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Sounds good. See ya, Nathan.”
“See ya.”
And with that, I’m left alone in my kitchen with a grumbling stomach and no plans on how to fix it.
Looking down at my rumpled attire, I catch a whiff of onion and garlic emanating off me from Charmant. It seems the potent flavors have seeped into my clothing. Probably because I spilled some of the roux onto my shirt when I was pouring the chicken stock into it.