The Last Autograph (A Reluctant Kiss #3)

Chapter 7

7

Showered and exhausted after a five-a.m. start, Jake was all set for an early night when his doorbell chimed. He picked up his wineglass and drained its contents before checking through the peephole.

As if the universe was conspiring against him, Alexia, a family friend from his school days and onetime teenage crush, stood on his front porch, both hands clamped around the straps of an oversized designer tote. He muttered a curse under his breath before opening the door.

“Jake. How are you?” She swept past as if he’d rolled out the red carpet at her feet.

“Lex.” He closed the door and gave himself a mental pep talk. Sometimes, he struggled with his manners, especially when it came to Alexia. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She sat without invitation, her bag dumped at her feet. “I’ve heard on the grapevine that Jesse’s tramp has finally appeared to dance on his grave before collecting her spoils.”

Anger twisted in his gut. He had no idea who belonged to Alexia’s grapevine, but they certainly knew what went on around town, even if most of their interactions were bullshit gossip. And while Jake had no idea what to make of Molly Parker’s sudden arrival in Clifton Falls, he also loathed how Alexia was talking.

Jesse had always kept his relationships private, and although he’d been light on the details of his tryst with Molly, according to their father, he was definitely of sound mind when he changed his will to include her.

“Right. Let’s get one thing straight. Jesse’s estate is not up for discussion, okay? There’s enough crap surrounding it without me stepping in anymore.”

Alexia didn’t miss a beat. “So you’re just gonna let some groupie skank sweep in from… well”—she raised one perfect brow—“New York, if you believe the rumors, and get her greedy little hands on Jesse’s life insurance? You’re better than that, Jake. I bet she’s had this planned right from the start.”

Once again, his own doubts about Molly surfaced before he could silence them. He took a few seconds to steady himself before continuing. “Come on. You haven’t even met the woman, and you’re all over her with this judgment crap?”

“So what are you saying? That you just want to bake your fancy cakes, surf, and pretend you’re all hip and chill in your own little world? Well, I know you, Jake, and you’ll be every bit as pissed as I am that he left this Parker catfish a wad of cash.” She looked away, her annoyance firmly on display. “And I could really use a drink right now. So how about you do a girl a favor and pour me a red from that bottle on the counter?”

Jake crossed to the kitchen and did as he was told, the distraction giving him a chance to measure his words. Although dealing with Alexia had always been arduous, he’d learned how to read her better these past few months, and normally, he tolerated her in small doses.

He offered her the glass and sat in the chair opposite.

“Thanks.” She took a sip. “What was Jesse thinking, changing his will like that?”

“We’ll never know, but one thing I do know, he would have hated this?—”

“Hated what? That I feel betrayed because he didn’t include me in his will?” She huffed and shook her head. “You are unbelievable.”

“Come on, Lex,” Jake said softly. “You never even liked Jesse.”

Alexia sat forward and pointed a finger his way. “That’s not true. He was like a brother to me. And as long as I live, I’ll take his significant oversight and tuck it into the back of my mind where it belongs, because I deserve to be part of this. You know I do.” She pulled a tissue from her tote and dabbed her dry eyes. “And it hurts… being snubbed like that after everything I did for him.”

Desperate to go to bed, Jake combed his fingers through his hair and sighed. Ever since the funeral, it seemed he’d been holding on to his temper by a thread, and this back-and-forth with Alexia, when all he wanted was sleep, was causing that thread to unravel. “Yeah, well, let’s just agree to disagree, shall we? And I don’t mean to be rude, but I have an early start in the morning.”

Her expression softened as she studied him. She lifted her wineglass, licked her bottom lip, and took a steady sip. “You know… I don’t have to leave.”

WTF? He forced a breath through pursed lips. “Yeah. You do.”

“So, you’re still pining after that Ava bitch? Once a cheater?—”

“For shit’s sake, Lex, you have no idea what you’re talking about, and frankly, I can’t handle this bullshit right now.”

She rolled her eyes, then stood, picked up her tote, and set her wineglass on the coffee table. “You never were any fun, even when you pretended to love me.”

Jake stood but remained silent. He’d met a few die-hard narcissists in his time, but Alexia could hold her own with the best of them, and he was too tired to defend himself. What would be the point?

“And you can’t carry around that grief forever, Jake.” She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a key fob. “It’s not healthy.”

Suppressing his anger with a clenched jaw, Jake decided, for the sake of his own dignity, not to respond. He followed her into the entry and opened the front door. “I haven’t mentioned Molly to mum and dad yet, so for once in your life, can you back off and let me tell them?”

She turned to look at him. “Fine. But one day, you’ll realize that I have your back. Just remember that.”

The patisserie was quiet when Todd, a lecturer in food science at the local culinary institute, stuck his head around the kitchen door the following day. The two men had known each other for years, and despite the miles that often separated them, their friendship had endured.

“Hey. You busy, man?”

“A bit,” Jake replied. “How’s your day been?”

“Good. But I have a slight problem. What are you doing the weekend after next?”

“Surfing Petrie Bay.” Jake moved around the kitchen and wiped down the counter where he’d been frosting red velvet cupcakes moments before, then picked up a piping bag to fill with choux pastry. “Why’s that?”

“I have a gig for you at the wine and food fest.”

“What kind of gig?”

“One of the bake-off judges is out with a virus. We need a replacement.”

Mildly amused, Jake glanced up from his task. “And you thought of me? Are you serious right now, dude?”

“It’s good PR for the business. Plus, the ladies will love you.”

Not taking Todd’s last sexist statement as a compliment, Jake let it slide. “You do realize I’d rather deep-fry my nuts in oil, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but it’s for charity. Who can say no to that?”

Jake felt the full weight of the guilt trip that was Todd’s specialty whenever he needed volunteers for his various do-good projects around town. The guy was always ready to help a worthy cause and, rightly so, expected his friends and family to do the same. “Are you judging as well?”

“Of course.”

He slid the tray of piped choux pastry into the oven and set the timer. He’d never judged anything before, but he’d watched a few bake-off shows on TV when he had the flu once, so he knew the deal. And while he hadn’t paid much attention to the details, he was also aware of the wine and food festival. There’d been flyers about it all over town for weeks. “Nope.”

“Come on, man. What do you want me to do, beg?”

“You could try, but it wouldn’t do you any good.”

“Time’s tight. And you, my friend, are the perfect candidate for the job.”

While wiping his hands down his apron, Jake checked on the counter through the one-way glass and was surprised to see Molly Parker perusing the pastries in the display cabinet. Almost as if sensing his gaze, she glanced his way, concern in her expression. He paused for a moment and studied her. Jesse had good taste; he’d give him that. Her face held an elegant smile, and elegance was a quality he’d long admired in a woman.

“Jake?”

With his thoughts still elsewhere, Jake returned his attention to Todd. “Sorry, what?”

“You keen?”

He shot his friend an irritated look. “No, but you’re right. Maybe it is time I did something for the community. But I’m not happy about it.”

“Noted.” Todd slapped him on the back. “Good man.”

“Now get out of here. I have work to do.”

As Todd left the kitchen, Ari entered. “A customer’s asking for two éclairs filled with whipped cream and topped with standard chocolate icing instead of the usual glaze.”

Jake peered through the one-way mirror straight at Molly, who stood staring down at her phone. “Let me guess. Blonde hair, blue shirt?”

“Yep. Said that’s how her mother used to make them when she was a kid.”

His mum had too; it was a Kiwi thing back in the day. He returned to his task. “Tell her we’re all out of chocolate icing.”

“Um, no, we’re not.” Ari grinned. “There’s some left over from the caramel shortcake, and while it’s not traditionally correct to glaze an éclair with the basic stuff, when we’re at the money end, the customer should always be seen to be right. Authenticity’s all well and good, but culinary norms are challenged every day and have been for centuries.”

For shit’s sake! “Is that right?”

“Plus, she’s freakin’ hot if you ask me.”

Working hard to suppress both a grin and his mild annoyance, Jake picked up an éclair shell, placed it on a tray, and piped it with cream. He slid it across the counter. “Knock yourself out, dude.”

Ari waited. “She wants two, remember?”

“Of course she does.” Jake reached for another, filled it as before, and left it for Ari to ice. “Tell her they’re on the house.”