Chapter 9
Emma
“It’s going to be okay, Em,” Rhonda says as she’s looking at me.
Sitting in Rhonda’s elaborate kitchen, I feel like I’ve been crying, although I haven’t. But my heart’s beating abnormally fast, and every time I think about Alex, anger explodes through me. I feel like he betrayed me. I’m not sure why I feel this way. I mean, it’s not like we’re friends. I don’t even like him. But a part of me feels that maybe there could have been something between us. In another time, another place. I’m not blind. I could see him staring at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. It happens all the time. But usually, I ignore it. Or maybe I liked it. I don’t know. All I know right now is, I feel betrayed and worried. Is that ridiculous? Probably.
Philip walks over, handing me a cup of water, looking at Rhonda, his eyes narrowed with curiosity. “Is that the guy we ran into at the bakery earlier?”
“Yup.” Rhonda sighs, popping her “p”. “Alex Carter, cynical food critic from The Traveling Taste.” She rolls her eyes. “He wouldn’t know good food if it slapped him in the face.”
My mouth twitches upward. I’m thankful to have her support.
“I agree with Rhonda,” Philip says, putting a hand on the back of a kitchen chair. He’s mindlessly moving it up and down. “I love your pastries. And lately, you’ve been the talk of the town. You’ve got everyone’s support. I’m sure you do.”
Rhonda nods her agreement, but I can tell that there’s something else she’s wanting to say. She’s weighing her thoughts, trying to decide.
“What is it?” I urge her. “Go on, tell me. I’m being silly aren’t I?”
“When you’re feeling a certain way,” she says, “it’s never silly. It’s simply how you feel.”
“But?”
“But,” she emphasizes, “I know you don’t want to think about this now, honey, but put yourself in Alex’s shoes. I think, despite everything, he really likes you. I mean, he’s been to the bakery every day. Why would he if he didn’t like you? And you said that he said he didn’t even want to judge the competition, anyway. Why would he lie about that?”
I sigh, remembering my interaction with Alex. He did seem genuine. I look from Rhonda, to Philip, to Rhonda again. “It’s just that if he judges, I don’t stand a chance. You know what he thinks of what he’s already tried of my pastries. They’re good, but not spectacular.”
“You’re wrong,” Philip says. “The competition has five other judges. One man’s opinion is not going to cause you to lose. All you have to do is persuade the others. And you will. Come on, Em. I’ve known you for an incredibly long time. I’ve never seen you let a setback keep you from doing what you want to do. You’ve always been determined to succeed in what you put your mind on.”
“You just have to give yourself more credit,” Rhonda adds. “Forget Alex Carter. Just forget about him. It’s all about you, Emma.”
I’m silent for several minutes before nodding. Rhonda and Philip are right. And maybe it really wasn’t Alex’s choice to judge. I’d just have to work harder than ever to appeal to all the judges. Not just Alex.
“Thanks, guys,” I say. “I will forget about him. That’s all I can do, right?”
“Yes,” Rhonda says. “Well, that and win.” She laughs.
I laugh with her, thankful that I’ve got such a good friend who helps me through the unsure times. And Rhonda’s definitely one of the best.
“Hey, you want to tell her the good news?” Philip looks at Rhonda with a smile.
“There’s good news?” I echo. “What is it? I certainly could use some.”
“Well,” Rhonda says, drawing out the word. “Earlier today I sent in my application to an art school in Paris.”
I gasp. “What? That’s great! When will you hear something?”
“A couple of months,” Rhonda says. She covers her face with her hand and squeals. “I’m so nervous.”
“This is amazing,” I tell her. “I’m so happy for you. I know you’ll get it. You deserve it, Rhonda.”
“Thanks.”
I really am happy for Rhonda. I’m glad one of us is following our dreams. But I do have to admit I feel a twinge of jealousy. It’s always been much easier for her to get what she wanted. A part of me is nervous about the competition. I have a lot riding on it. And with Alex being a part of it, well, I don’t know how it’ll work out. But as I talk to my friends about the opportunity in Paris, another pearl of wisdom from my grandmother enters my mind. She once told me that the things worth fighting for are the hardest to achieve. I truly believe that. Now, more than ever.
Philip’s cell phone rings, and he excuses himself to answer.
I gesture toward him. “How’s it going?”
“We’re talking things out. I really love him, Em,” Rhonda says. “I want this to work out. But he agrees that if it doesn’t take this time, then we’ll just have to call it quits for good. He’s trying. It was his idea for me to apply to the art school.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“We’re both going to get what we deserve,” Rhonda says with a smile. “I know it.”
“I just wish I didn’t want it so much.” I let out a sigh. I really need to stop these self-doubts.
“Do you think that maybe it’s not necessarily that you want to win so badly as much as you’d want Alex’s approval?” Rhonda bites her bottom lip as if bracing herself for my reaction.
I widen my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugs. “Ever since he came to town, it’s been Alex this, Alex that.”
With a scoff, I stand to refill my water. “Yeah, and it’s been to talk about what a creep he is.”
“Do you really believe that?”
I turn to face her, and Rhonda raises a brow quizzically.
“He’s a creep and snobbish.”
“He’s nice,” Rhonda says.
I set my glass on the counter, folding my arms. “Is it criminal to dislike him?”
Rather than answering, she lifts the corner of her lips in a smile, but before I can press her, Philip comes back to the kitchen.
Rhonda switches the conversation. I make a mental note to scold her later for insisting that there’s something more to it. Alex Carter is not a nice guy. He may be good looking and act friendly at times, but he’s not nice. He’s irritating. That’s what he is.
After leaving Rhonda’s house, I go to my apartment to get Frankie and take him for a walk. I’m not going to practice my baking tonight. I deserve a break. And I know that Rhonda wants to be a part of the whole thing, too. But she and Philip have a date planned. So, I guess you can say I have a date planned with Frankie.
We decide to stroll through the park. We’re walking the trails as Frankie sniffs for a good spot to do his business.
I’m looking at my phone, when suddenly Frankie starts barking. I look up to see Alex heading our way. I’m pretty sure that my face is flushing. My heart leaps to my throat, and I’m finding myself mesmerized at the sight of him. When his eyes meet mine, he stops walking, and for a second, we stare. A part of me wants to turn and walk in the opposite direction. But another part is hoping that he’ll come to me and tell me he’s changed his mind and won’t judge the competition.
I swallow hard. Frankie barks again and jerks at the leash, forcing me to stumble to Alex. Frankie jumps on Alex’s pant legs, panting in between barks.
“Hey, buddy,” Alex says. He looks up at me. “What’s his name again?”
“Frankie.” My throat’s raw as I speak. I clear it.
“Hey, Frankie,” Alex says to the dachshund. He chuckles when Frankie begins lapping up Alex’s hand with his tongue. “Good boy.” After one more pat on the head, Alex stands, his eyes finding mine again.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” I’m trying to think of what to say, but words aren’t coming out.
“You okay?” Alex narrows his eyes as he studies me.
“I’m fine.” I can feel the tension growing with each passing second. Leave. Just leave. I try to give myself instructions, but my feet are planted on the ground. Why does Alex have this effect on me? It’s driving me crazy. I’m supposed to dislike him, not…whatever this is.
“I want you to know how sorry I am,” Alex says. “I really am. It was never my intention to deceive you. I’m only doing my job.”
I believe him. Really, I do. But the idea of losing the competition because of Alex is too hard to stomach. But I have to remember that Philip was right. There will be more than just him judging. Why do I keep forgetting that?
“I know,” I say. Then I smile, surprising even myself. “I guess this is an opportunity for me to prove to you my pastries are more than just…ordinary.”
He nods. “I have no doubt.” He pauses, then takes a tentative step forward. “Look, Emma, there’s something I…well, you know…” He trails off, searching for the right words. “I just wanted to say, despite what you may think of me, I—”
Suddenly, Frankie’s enthusiastic barking cuts him off mid-sentence. We both glance down at the little dachshund, who, in a burst of unexpected energy, lunges toward a squirrel. The leash, which I’m holding, yanks forward with surprising force. I’m caught off guard, stumbling awkwardly right into Alex’s arms.
For a split second, I’m frozen, not quite processing what just happened. Then, the reality of our close proximity hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m practically nose-to-nose with Alex, his arms instinctively around me for support. I quickly push away, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“Sorry,” I mumble, trying to regain my composure. I can feel my heart pounding, and I’m not entirely sure if it’s from the near fall or the sudden closeness to Alex.
Alex, looking just as surprised, clears his throat and steps back. “No problem,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Finally, my mind clears just enough to realize that in the chaos, I’ve let go of Frankie’s leash. I look around frantically. “Frankie!” I call out, spotting him a few feet away, triumphantly sniffing at a bush.
I start a slow jog toward him, hoping I won’t stumble and cause anymore embarrassment. My legs are feeling like jelly.
I reach Frankie, his tail wagging happily. As I hook the leash back in my hand, I can’t help but steal a glance at Alex. He had followed me in silence. It looks like he’s about to say something, but I interrupt him.
“I should, um, probably get going,” I say, still feeling a bit flustered.
Alex sighs, then nods. “Sure, I’ll see you around, Emma.”
I turn and force Frankie away, desperately wanting to find someplace safe where I can drop to the ground.
Frankie and I finally make it back to our apartment, and I unclip his leash, rewarding him with a treat for the dramatic performance he put on. I watch him happily munch away, then head to my bedroom, feeling a mix of exhaustion and lingering embarrassment.
I flop onto the bed, letting out a dramatic sigh. My heart is still doing somersaults, and the memory of Alex’s unexpected embrace lingers uncomfortably in my mind. I close my eyes, trying to shake off the sensation of his strong arms around me. And that scent—what was that?
Some kind of woodsy, manly shampoo? I can’t believe I’m even thinking about this. It’s ridiculous.
I open my eyes, staring at the ceiling. “Get a grip, Emma,” I mutter to myself. “He’s just a guy. A frustrating, annoyingly good-smelling guy.” I roll my eyes, half annoyed at myself for being so affected by a simple accidental hug.
I sit up, shaking my head to clear it. I need to focus on the bake-off, not on Alex Carter’s arms or his shampoo. But as much as I try to convince myself, there’s a tiny voice in the back of my head that keeps replaying the moment over and over.
I let out a groan and flop back down on the bed. “This is going to be a long night,” I say to the ceiling, hoping that sleep will come and erase the day’s awkwardness. But deep down, I know I’m in for a restless night, my thoughts stubbornly circling back to Alex and the unexpected encounter in the park.
Frankie uses the steps at the foot of my bed to climb next to me, along with his favorite squeaky toy. I watch him chew on it.
I consider calling Rhonda to tell her about the encounter, but I don’t because I remember she’s out with Philip. Instead, I just lay there, unmoving, Alex’s face at the forefront of his mind. I’m trying hard right now to remember why I don’t like him.
He’s critical. He’s snobbish. He smells so good.
“Ugh!” I exclaim, covering my eyes in frustration. In response to my outburst, Frankie springs up, nudging my head with a whimper. I meet his gaze and scold, “You just had to chase after that squirrel, didn’t you? It’s not like you’ve never seen a rat with a bushy tail before.” Frankie, unbothered, trots back to his toy and lies down, the incessant squeaking filling the room.
Squeak. Squeak.
I can’t go on like this.
What’s worse, I’ll probably run into him tomorrow. Maybe I should barricade myself indoors, avoid leaving the apartment altogether. It’s a tempting thought, but I know it’s not realistic. I’ll just have to pretend that our encounter is out of sight and out of mind. I can’t let Alex realize he’s gotten under my skin. I might be aware of it, but I can’t let him see it.