Chapter 11 Tallulah
Tallulah
Iplaced detox tea, herbal supplements, and two lavender sachets in the bag. "Will that be all for you?" I asked.
"Yes."
Miss Cross was one of my regular customers and had come in for her monthly supply of detox tea and vitamins. She was a real estate agent and always wore tailored suits, with her silver hair styled in a curly bob.
"How is the new landlord? Rumor has it they're planning renovations to the building, which should be good for you and the other tenants. I heard the old landlord was slow to make repairs." She handed over her credit card.
"I'd like to think our situation will improve with the new owners, but we're worried they'll increase the rent and price us out of the building."
Tyler, Leslie, and I had made progress putting together ideas since the tenants' meeting. All the owners had supplied the information we needed for the log, so we knew when all the leases would expire. I had nine months left on mine.
Tyler had learned that renovations typically started small, with minor improvements like painting and signage changes within sixty days of purchase.
During that time, the owners finalized plans for the greater capital expenditures, such as renovating the common areas and upgrading the lighting.
By the time they finished with the changes, they could rebrand the building as a luxury location to justify the rent hike.
Miss Cross pursed her lips. "I hope you're wrong, but those tactics are the way of the world nowadays. The big guys force out the little guys. Just know that wherever you land, I'll follow."
"Thanks," I said, shooting her a grateful smile as I tore the receipt off the register.
I hoped I didn't have to leave at all. I wasn't only worried about finding a new place I could afford.
I was part of a community here in the building.
We all had regular customers and received decent foot traffic because of our location.
We supported each other, recommending our products and services to customers, all of which would be lost.
When Miss Cross finished signing, I handed her the bag of products. "Say a little prayer for us."
"I will, and I'm sure you'll be fine. Take care, and I'll see you next month."
As she was the last customer of the day, the door automatically locked behind her.
I hurriedly counted down the register and put the day's deposits in the safe in the back. Blossom had agreed to let Shelley design the wedding cake, and she had roped me into attending the cake tasting with her and Manuel this evening.
So far, the wedding prep was chugging along, though there had been a few hiccups. Since Blossom couldn't contribute financially, she had insisted on planning the wedding instead of hiring a coordinator. A terrible idea, in my opinion, but according to her, she wanted to do more than just show up.
She had chosen Keke as her maid of honor and two friends to be bridesmaids.
Somehow, one of her friends from college had assumed she would be in the wedding party, resulting in hurt feelings, a tearful phone call, and Blossom having to reassure her that the only reason she wasn't included was because they had made a decision to have a small wedding.
Then there was the invitation typo fiasco, which I still didn't understand how it had happened.
Blossom and Manuel had skipped the formal invitation and sent out digital save-the-date cards directing invitees to the wedding website.
Before sending the electronic card, Manuel had reviewed the invitation—so he said.
I had also taken a look, and not one of the three of us had caught the typo with the wrong date until Keke called, confused.
We spent two days sending follow-up emails and texts and encouraging everyone to check the website, which always had current information.
Perhaps the most stressful incident had occurred when the green chairs Blossom chose ended up costing significantly more than the plain white ones she had originally seen.
She was leaning into an autumn palette for the wedding, which included burgundy, olive green, and terracotta.
The combination of colors leaned warm and earthy, making me think of comfort and permanence instead of flash and fuss.
Apparently, more color meant greater cost, and she hadn't wanted Manuel to cover it, so her father and I agreed to take on the additional cost after Karl negotiated them down to a lower price point. Being cheap had its advantages.
I picked up my jacquard-designed cotton bag and slung it over my shoulder. When I was almost to the door, Blossom called.
Wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear, I answered. "Hi, my love."
"Mom, thank goodness I caught you!" she said, sounding out of breath.
I stopped at the door. "What's going on?"
"I'm so sorry, but my interview ran over, and I missed the bus.
I'm going to catch a Lyft to the bakery, but unfortunately, I'll be late.
Manuel sent me a text, and he's caught in traffic on the other side of town after leaving a client's office.
The two of you will have to start the tasting without us. "
I immediately tensed, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. "The two of us?"
"Oh, I didn't tell you? Manuel invited his father since Shelley allows four people at the tasting. Can you handle the appointment until we get there?"
Her announcement had shaken me.
"Of course, but you're only allotted an hour at the bakery. What if you don't arrive on time?"
"Then you and Mr. Harris will have to pick our wedding cake."
"Blossom, I don't know if—"
"Mom, don't sweat it. It's cake. Whatever you choose will be delicious."
"You're sure?"
"Positive. Oh, gotta run! My ride's here. Hopefully, I'll see you soon."
She hung up without saying goodbye, and I remained uncertainly in place, my feet bolted to the floor in apprehension.
What was I afraid of? Definitely not the cake.
I was honored my daughter trusted me with such an important decision, but that wasn't the reason for my sense of foreboding and the knot in my stomach.
It was because of him. Definitely because of Jamison Harris.
He irked me, but I found myself drawn to him. The maturity in his square-jawed face, the soothing sound of his deep voice, his crisp, polished appearance in a suit.
Had I not learned my lesson with my ex? Opposites attract, but they also wear each other down, demanding more compromise than relationships where both parties were alike.
Startled by my thoughts, I stiffened. My attraction, or whatever I felt, was irrelevant. Jamison and I were not in a relationship and were never going to be.
I took a deep breath and fingered the rose quartz around my neck before pushing through the door. Passing by the Far East Market, I waved at Mrs. Chen and her husband behind the register at the front. They wouldn't close up shop until eight.
When I opened the door to Sugar Crumb Bakery, I immediately encountered the enticing aroma of butter and sugar, which temporarily lifted my spirits. Then I saw Jamison. Surprisingly, he was already there, leaning against the display case as he chatted with one of the employees behind the counter.
He wore charcoal slacks and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. No tie or jacket. Casual and relaxed.
I had taken full advantage of observing his body in the parking lot outside the wedding boutique and had been impressed by his physique.
He had been sweaty and looking very manly.
The vision of his muscular arms and thighs sprinkled with dark hair remained stamped in my brain for hours afterward.
Watching him push his sweat-damp hair from his forehead had created a tightening sensation in my chest—and my nipples, if I was being completely honest. Time had seemed to slow with his movements and demand we pay attention.
With each encounter, he stayed top of my mind and appeared more attractive than when we first met. The universe was having a good laugh at my expense because no way was I this attracted to the father of my daughter's fiancé, a man who had made me show my ass in a fine dining establishment.
Jamison straightened when he saw me. "Hello, Ms. Washington."
"Jamison. Have you been here long?" I asked.
"Not too long, but I did leave work early to get here. On the way over, Manuel called and told me he was running late."
"So is Blossom. She had a job interview that took longer than expected."
"Could be a good sign."
"I hope so," I said.
Shelley emerged from the back with her graying hair pulled away from her face. A young woman accompanied her. "Tallulah, hi! And you must be Jamison, Manuel's father?"
"Correct," Jamison said.
"Congratulations to you both on the upcoming wedding. How exciting!"
"Thank you," we said at the same time.
We exchanged a glance.
"Where are Blossom and Manuel?"
"Running a little late but told us to get started," I answered. "If they don't arrive before the session is over, we have permission to select the cake."
"Are you sure?" Shelley asked.
"Yes, but they'll probably be here soon enough," I said.
Shelley clasped her hands together. "Okay then, everything is all set for you to try our cakes.
Riley here is going to be taking care of you in our tasting room.
She started a few weeks ago as an intern and has been a tremendous help, allowing us to concentrate on finding ways to expand the business. "
"You're not staying?" I asked.
Shelley shook her head. "We had a last-minute order come in yesterday, and I have to deliver it. Have you heard of the rock band Def Panda?"
"I'm not familiar," I admitted.
"They have a show tonight, don't they?" Jamison asked.
The hell? How did he know about a group named Def Panda? A rock band, to boot.
"Yes!" Shelley answered excitedly. "A couple of days ago, we sent their people a box of weed-infused dessert samples.
Didn't hear from them until yesterday—last minute, of course, but I'm not complaining.
I'm doing a green room delivery of cupcakes, brownies, and they loved our lemon bars.
I'm so excited! This could be our big break to finally get out of the revenue slump we've been in. "
I held up my crossed fingers. "I have my fingers crossed for you."
"Thank you! Anyway, Riley knows which box contains your samples, she has your scorecards, and all you have to do is eat cake and decide which one you like best. Riley, you're good?" She placed a hand on the young woman's shoulder.
Riley gave her a thumbs up. "I got this."
"Perfect. I'm out of here. Jenny, lock the doors in thirty minutes, please," Shelley said to the other young woman behind the counter.
"Will do."
She returned her attention to me and Jamison. "I might be back before you're finished, and hopefully, your kids will arrive in time to try some of the samples."
"We hope," I said.
"See you later." With a quick wave, Shelley disappeared through a door leading to the back of the bakery.
Looking a tad nervous now that her boss was gone, Riley smiled at us. "Follow me, please," she said, leading the way to the tasting room.