Chapter 10
“I want to hear everything. Do not leave anything out.” Michael lifted an imperious hand that had the waiter approaching swiftly. “The Shrimp Alfredo is divine.” He scanned the menu without consulting her. “And the fruit basket.” He handed the menu back to the waiter dismissively before turning his attention to her.
“I really don’t have time for lunch.”
“You have to eat, and I wanted you away from your place of business. It is the only way to get your complete attention.” He studied her curiously. “You look relaxed, and your complexion is glowing. Which can only mean one thing…?” His smile widened. “You had sex.”
She thought about denying it but decided that it was too good to be kept to herself.
Last night had been hectic and rough at the same time. They had spent almost the entire night making up. Instead of feeling exhausted, she felt completely revved.
“We did.” Her smile was wide. “And I have to say, what they write in the books can in no way compared to the real thing.”
“Bitch.” He grumbled. “I am going to need details. Like how big his instrument is…”
“Nope.” Picking up her glass, she took a sip of water.
“And how good is his technique…”
“He has a lot of them, and it would take more than a day to get into it. Besides, we are not in high school.”
“I have to live vicariously through your love life.” He shook his head. “Imagine me saying that. You have a love life.” He gave her a contemplated look. “And knowing you, it’s going to be screwed up.”
“He wants to marry me.”
“Ah. And you said?”
“No.”
“Of course you did.” He sighed dramatically. “You are the only woman I know, who would turn down a proposal from one of the hottest and richest guy in this part of the world. What did he say to that?”
“He was mad. Did not talk to me for several hours. I basically had to grovel and hence the make up sex which went on for almost the entire night.” She grinned at the pained look on his face.
“It seems as if things have progressed.”
She toyed with the mixture of fruits and nuts on the table. “It has. I am into him, big time. But I am deadly scared.”
“Because of what that bastard did to you.”
“I keep expecting Leo to tell me he has changed his mind and wants out.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I do not want to make a commitment and then he tells me he has changed his mind. Look at me.” She dug a finger into her chest. “I am not sophisticated and am never going to fit into his world.”
“You’ll do fine.” He waved a dismissive hand. “You are beautiful and witty. The man has good taste. He is also old enough to know his own mind.”
“I told him I need time.”
“To do what?”
She rolled her eyes at his impatient expression.
“To make certain we are not making a gigantic mistake. He has been with so many sophisticated and well educate women…”
“You are a goddamned magician in the kitchen!”
“In the kitchen. I am not a judge or a clever lawyer or even an actress. I read somewhere that he was involved with a European princess at one time.”
“And none of them had the distinction of being proposed to.” He pointed out and waited until their meals were set before them.
“He bought me clothes.”
“I knew there was something unusual about the sweater.” He leaned forward and fingered the soft wool. “It is exquisite. Paris?”
She nodded. “I feel stupid wearing it to the shop, but I wanted to make up for the fact that I was a bitch about everything. You know I am not used to anything fancy, and I do not give a damn about couture.”
Michael winced as he dug into his meal.
“I wonder constantly why we are such good friends. I am a clothes horse.”
“So is he.” She admitted wryly. “His closet would swallow up my bedroom three times over.” She drank some more water absently. They had been back for the past two weeks, and the pace have been hectic. He had sat down with her to go over the renovations that she wanted done and so far everything was going okay.
The pastry shop had been signed over to her and a contract drawn up by his lawyer in her name. She had employed two extra hands because of the upcoming winter season. And she wanted to free herself up to work mostly in the kitchen.
“Are you okay?”
“I think I am coming down with something. My throat is itchy and dry, and my stomach is acting crazy. One of the girls at the shop went home yesterday with a fever. She is still out, which means we are short-staffed.
“So how does it feel to own your own pastry shop?”
“Liberating!” She said with a quick laugh, pressing her hand against her stomach. “It also feels strange, not to be consulting Ingrid about everything. The decision is now on me. All on me and it is scary.”
“I take it that Leo has been giving you some business advice?”
She nodded and tried the water again. Her stomach was really acting up. “He’s really good at what he does.”
“Sounds to me like you’re smitten.” He said it casually, watching her reaction.
“I am definitely attracted to him, of course.”
“But?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head firmly and glanced at her watch. “I am not going to think about it anymore. We are doing fine and I am going to leave it at that.” Pushing away from the table, she waited for him to stand before wrapping her hands around his neck. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Ditto. Sorry I had to rush away before you returned. We should get together soon.”
“You should come by and see what’s being done to the place.”
“I will, I promise.”
He watched her stride away and sat down to finish his meal. She looked so much better and whether she wanted to admit it or not, Leo Coleman was obviously doing wonders for her.
Lifting his hand, he ordered a glass of Chantilly Merlot to go with his meal.
*****
She was exhausted and ready to drop. The contractor assigned to do the renovations had been recommended by Leo and was fastidious and somewhat of a perfectionist. The man was surly and uncommunicative.
He had a certain way of doing things and both of them had several personality clashes along the way, until she was tempted to tell him to go to hell. But he was the best and she wanted the best.
She wanted privacy booths, a larger waiting area, a place where baking competitions would be held. Another area where tea parties and discussions, whether it be about the latest movie or a bestselling novel, would be discussed over warm beverages or cold drinks combined with a savory and delicious pastry.
She had specific ideas and had made several notations in her book. Daniel Cosgrove, the pain in the ass contractor had brought in an architect, which was going to cost an arm and a leg. When she had complained to Leo, he had sagely told her that if she wanted elegance, she was going to have to pay for it.
“If you want it done properly, it is going to cost. And I am making sure there is no cost overrun. I have your back. I am dealing with the financial side of it. You concentrate on the creative side.”
And she knew she was in good hands. Her aunt was back, and she had taken an afternoon off work, to go and visit her.
“I was hoping that husband of yours would make the trip as well.” She had sounded very disappointed that Leo was not with her.
“He has had some schedules overrun and had to take a quick trip to New York to sort out some details.”
“You look happy.”
“I am. The money…”
“I am not taking about the money. I would hope that is not what has the glow in your eyes and the soft look about you. Money is not the be all and end all of things.
You have a good man with you now and I hope you are at least making the effort to compromise and make the marriage work. I have seen the way he looks at you and have to say that it is far different from the way that shifty eyed fiancé had about him.”
She shook her head in disgust. “I never approved of him, but of course, you were not prepared to listen to anything negative about him. Take care of what you have now, my dear and do not take it for granted.
*****
As she went back to the construction site, her mind wandered to the evening ahead. She was looking forward to winding down and perhaps having a quiet dinner with Leo when he returned from his trip. The thought of him brought a small smile to her lips. She could not deny the way he made her feel - safe, cherished, and truly seen.
The noise of the renovation filled the air as she approached. Daniel was there, overseeing the workers with his usual stern expression.
She took a deep breath, reminding herself that all this chaos would soon transform into her dream space. The vision that she had nurtured was slowly taking shape, and despite the bumps along the way, she was confident it would be worth the effort.
Daniel looked up and gave her a curt nod as she entered. "Everything is on schedule," he said, without waiting for her to ask. She nodded in acknowledgment, appreciating his dedication even if his demeanor was less than friendly.
She walked through the emerging rooms, imagining the laughter and conversations that would soon fill them.
The contractor's precision was evident in every detail, and she was grateful for Leo's insistence on hiring the best. It was a partnership, not just in business but in life, and she felt fortunate to have someone who believed in her vision as much as she did.
As the day drew to a close, she made her way back home, eager to unwind and recharge. The renovation project was a monumental task, but she was starting to see the vision already unfolding.
The renovation was done during the time when the shop was not that crowded and even so, it was relegated to the back area to keep out of the way of the customers. She wanted everything finished before Christmas, but the safety and comfort of the people who supported her business came first.
As soon as she stepped into the kitchen, she donned her apron and started on the dough. Having lunch with Michael had taken up some of her precious time and she was running behind.
She was about to prove the dough when she looked up and saw Ingrid coming towards her.
Ingrid had always been a source of wisdom and strength, her presence both comforting and grounding. As she approached, there was a familiar warmth in her eyes, a silent support that spoke volumes.
"Ingrid," she greeted, her voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and relief, "what brings you here?"
"I thought you might need an extra pair of hands," Ingrid replied with a knowing smile. "And perhaps a bit of company."
They worked side by side in companionable silence, the rhythmic motions of kneading dough and the soothing scent of yeast filling the room. It was moments like these that reminded her of the simple pleasures in life, the ones that money could never buy.
“You should not be working. You are officially retired and just back from your cruise. I do not want Ben calling and biting my head off.”
Ingrid laughed softly, the sound like a gentle melody. "Oh, Ben knows better than to try and keep me away from this kitchen. Besides, I missed our little routines," she said, her hands deftly shaping the dough into perfect orbs.
Her heart swelled with gratitude. Moments like these, shared with friends who were like family, added depth to her life's tapestry.
As they worked, the kitchen was filled with stories of Ingrid's recent cruise, tales of exotic places and new acquaintances. The laughter that punctuated their conversation was as warm as the bread rising in the oven.
"You know," she said, pausing to wipe a flour-dusted hand across her brow, "sometimes I think we underestimate the power of simple, shared moments. They remind us of who we are and what really matters."
Ingrid nodded, her eyes twinkling with agreement. "Indeed, my dear. It is these moments that keep our spirits alive and our hearts full."
The evening continued in a symphony of shared labor and heartfelt conversation, each moment a testament to the bonds that held them together through the years.
“Let’s talk about you.” The scent of bread baking permeated the air and wrapped around them like a cloak. “I still cannot believe you’re married, much more to a man like that.”
“I made hot chocolate earlier.”
“I would never say no to hot chocolate.” Ingrid jumped into the familiar rhythm of things and started to box up the tarts and strawberry shortcake. “All done.” She accepted the cup gratefully and sat around the counter. “Sit, please.” She ordered the younger woman. “You’re making me dizzy as usual.”
‘I feel like I have to keep moving.” Sherrian, sat across from her and wrapped her hands around the cup, trying to absorb the warmth. She was definitely coming down with something. Dammit!
Ingrid studied Sherrian's face with a discerning eye. "You look a bit pale, dear. “Are you feeling alright?" She asked, concern evident in her voice.
Sherrian forced a smile, hoping to convince Ingrid - and perhaps herself - that she was fine. "I'm probably just tired. It has been a hectic week."
Ingrid reached across the counter, her hand a comforting presence on Sherrian's. "Sometimes we need to take a moment for ourselves. The world can wait."
The younger woman sighed, feeling the truth of Ingrid's words settle deep within her. The warmth of the hot chocolate seeped through the ceramic mug, offering a small measure of comfort. "You always know what to say," she murmured, grateful for the older woman's unwavering support.
“Tell me about your young man,” Ingrid urged and she almost automatically denied that he was before she realized what she was about to say.
“He’s…” She sipped hot chocolate and contemplated. “He’s different.”
Ingrid tilted her head, curiosity piqued. "Different how?"
Sherrian stared into her cup, as if the swirling chocolate held the answers she sought. "He's..., he's kind and thoughtful in ways I never expected. He listens, truly listens, and he makes me feel seen, like I matter."
A gentle smile spread across Ingrid's face. "That sounds wonderful, dear. Everyone deserves to feel that way."
Sherrian nodded, her eyes lifting to meet Ingrid's. "It is. But it is also terrifying. I am not used to this kind of attention, this level of care. It is almost as if I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."
Ingrid's expression softened further, the lines of her face etched with understanding and compassion. "Love, real love, can be frightening because it asks us to be vulnerable, to trust. But it also has the power to heal, to bring out the best in us. Give it time, Sherrian. Allow yourself to be happy."
She considered that for a moment. “I spent a lot of time blaming myself for what happened with Greg.’ She flicked a glance at Ingrid. “You know how obsessed I become especially when I am creating something new.”
“Oh yes!” Ingrid laughed softly and then sobered. “He fooled you into thinking he understood and was behind you all the way.”
Sherrian nodded. “I do not want to make that mistake again. I become focused so much on work and it is going to get even more intense. I am doing all this renovations and expansions, and I have all these grandiose ideas. What if I am taking on too much?”
Ingrid reached across to squeeze her hand lightly. “I have always admired your zest and the way you have about you that makes any tasks seem possible.
From the very first day you walked through those doors, I knew you were someone special and that I would have to watch myself or you would be booting me out.” She laughed at the wry look on Sherrian’s face. “And I was right. You have visions my dear and I do not want you to ever apologize for it.”
“I just feel drained,” she admitted.
“You have just gotten back from spending a week in Europe and for the past two weeks you have been thrown into the fray.” Her eyes twinkled. “And I don’t suppose it’s easy to deal with that dour looking man I passed on the way in.”
“You mean, Daniel.” She muttered wryly. “He and I have a hate-hate relationship. If he wasn’t so fricking brilliant, I would be giving him his walking papers. But he is the best and I just have to put up with him for a few more weeks. He promised that the place would be finished before Christmas.”
“It’s already beginning to take shape.”
They both looked up when an employee came into the kitchen.
“I’m afraid the crowd is a little more than we can handle out front.”
“You stay where you are,” Ingrid ordered as Sherrian jumped to her feet, “I will go and handle the cash register.”
*****
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“What’s going on?” He approached the bed where she was curled under the covers and sat on the edge, his gaze flickering over her face.
“I feel like crap.”
“Okay.” He touched a hand to her forehead. “You’re running a slight temperature.” He glanced at the uneaten meal on the table. “Not hungry?”
“I’m not sick.” She tried to sound normal, but her voice came out sounding husky. “It is just a slight cold or a stomach virus. I do not get sick.”
“If you say so.” He tried to hide the glimmer of smile, but did not quite succeed.
“You think I am being silly.”
“Not at all.”
“I do not get sick. I do not have time to be sick. I have to work…”
“How about I get you some tea. This one has become cold.”
“Oh, dammit.”
“What?”
“I’m sick, aren’t I?”
“It would appear so.” He started to get up when she grabbed his hand.
“I feel as if I am dying.”
He just managed to tamp down the laughter.
“I thought you were not sick.”
“I am. My throat feels funny, and I am nauseous.”
“Nauseous?” Something leapt inside him, and he held his breath for a second. “You did not mention that.”
“I threw up twice at work and my tastebuds are shot. I was trying out a new dessert – a combination of strawberries and cherries and it tasted bland. I could not taste the cinnamon or the ginger. But the girls said it tasted fantastic.”
“Perhaps we should consult a physician in the morning.”
“Why? It is just a stupid bug. I am not going to make a big deal out of it. Some soup and herbal tea will do the trick.”
“What have you taken?” He looked around and saw remnants of some cold medicine.
“I hate taking pills, so I took some Nyquil.”
“How do you feel now?”
“I still feel lousy, and my appetite is non-existent.”
“What about the tea?”
“I don’t want you to leave.” She clung to his hand. “What if I have relapse while you’re gone?”
“Seriously?”
“You don’t know how I am feeling.” She laced her fingers through his and sent a warm glow in his chest. “Anything can happen.”
“Nothing will.” He tugged his hand away and bent to kiss her forehead.
“You’re really leaving?” She asked with a pout.
“Stop being such a baby.” He said mildly, brushing back tendrils of hairs that were clinging to her moist forehead. “Mrs. Elliot was on her way out when I came in. I am just going to change and go downstairs and make you some tea and plain soup to settle your stomach. How does it feel now?”
“The same.” She rubbed her hand over it. “I think I am just tired. We came back from the trip and jumped straight into work. And the renovations are kind of stressful.”
His eyes narrowed at that. “Cosgrove giving you a hard time?”
She shook her head. “He is a man of few words and those words are curt and to the point, but I can deal with him. It is just everything is kind of overwhelming.”
“You wanted it done before the holidays,” he reminded her.
“I do. Okay, get the tea and soup and hopefully, I will still be alive when you get back.”
“I had no idea you were such a drama queen.”
Her glare had him laughing as he headed out the room.