Chapter 24 Lia
Lia
Iwake up feeling wrung out like a dishcloth.
I roll over in bed with a flop and check my phone. My pillow is wet from sweating all night. Ugh. I hate the slow build-up to my heat.
I make a mental note to check my hormones with the pee sticks I get from the drug store. They can tell me how close I am to my heat dragging me under.
Something tells me I’m closer to it than I want to be.
I drag my phone in front of my face and the screen nearly blinds me. It’s been two days since the whirlwind of bowling lanes and vineyard candles whispering promises under a moonlit sky, and my body is still paying for it.
To be honest, I shouldn’t have gone on all three dates. Too much energy during a time where I need to be resting.
They’re becoming irresistible, though.
Dating three Alphas in one weekend should probably come with a warning label. Caution: may cause emotional vertigo and physical exhaustion.
I smile to myself when I see text messages from them.
Eli: Good morning, Alley Cat. You sleep okay?
Knox: Rise and shine, Sunshine. It’s a new day. Need any help with anything?
Walker: Morning, beautiful. I’m only a phone call away if something happens. Use it when you need it.
My fingers stumble slowly along the keypad of my phone.
Lia: Just waking up. I’m good. Still tired. That’s pretty par for the course at this point, though. How are you guys? Eli, how’s Amber?
After sending off the text, my phone falls to my pillow and I burrow deeper into my blankets on the floor of my apartment.
At this point, I’ve lost all hope that I’ll see any sort of money from my renter’s insurance for temporary furniture for this place. An air mattress I picked up keeps me comfortable enough, but it still doesn’t address the mountain of problems I still have.
How will I replace all the furniture and kitchen supplies I’ve lost? What about the clothes I can’t get back? How much will that cost?
When will I get back into my old apartment?
I groan at the thin line of sunlight sneaking through the bedsheets I hung up at curtains over the sliding glass doors. It’s like lead has settled through the marrow of my bones. This has to be what boxers feel like the day after a fight.
Spent and exhausted.
All I’d want is you at my side.
Walker’s voice flits through my head as my phone buzzes. I remember back to the flickering pain behind his eyes. His heartbreak that is clearly still fresh in his mind even though it happened years ago.
One month, that’s all it took for someone to leave him with a scar that still casts shadows behind his eyes. A part of me I can’t explain wants to scratch at Rachel’s face for ever hurting him.
My phone buzzes again and it makes me smile. No doubt the guys are texting me back. The thought alone makes my heart warm. I’m too tired to move, though. I squeeze my eyes shut as I roll over onto my back, the air mattress beneath me creaking with the weight of my body and blankets.
I miss my bed-nest.
My mind wanders as the slit of light drifting in between the strung-up bed sheets grows brighter.
My cell phone rings, and that makes me reach for it. Not that I don’t want to text the guys back, I’ve just never been a morning person. I assume it’s Walker, already raising those hackles of his because I haven’t responded to the texts in an appropriate amount of time.
However, when I get my phone in front of my face, it’s a number I don’t recognize. A number that’s not saved in my phone.
I answer immediately, hoping maybe it’s another client. I’ll need another client if I’m going to replace things I’ve lost in my apartment. Everything in my current budget is tapped out to the max.
I clear my throat and do a few test words before I answer. “This is Lia, owner of Lia’s Kitchen Creations, how may I help?”
“Well,” the female voice says on the other end of the line, “at least I know I dialed the right number. Hey there, Lia. It’s Tansy, from The Gilded Lady. I hope I’m not calling too early?”
Hope fills my chest as I force myself upright a little too quickly. The world tilts for a moment, but I close my eyes and disregard it.
“Miss Tansy, hello. Good morning.”
She groans. “Please, none of that ‘miss’ crap. I hate it when people call me that. Makes me feel old.”
Already mucking things up. Great. “My apologies. How can I help you?”
“I’ll get straight to it because I’ve already got a busy day ahead of me. I’m drowning, Lia. How quickly can you get in here?”
I hold in all of my struggle sounds as I get myself out of the air mattress on the floor. “I can be there in half an hour. Is everything okay? What do I need to bring with me?”
Tansy gives a dramatic sigh. “I’ve got three wedding cake tastings this week alone for summer weddings, and my regular orders aren’t slowing down. I need hands. Competent ones.”
I make my way into the kitchen, rushing to get some water on the stove for my morning tea from Dr. Quinn. “I can absolutely help. What are you wanting to off-load?”
“Pastries and danishes. I haven’t even started on them today. My windows are usually filled come this time, and I haven’t even started. The only pastries and danishes I’ve got out are the ones from yesterday.”
I wrinkle my nose. “That won’t do. How long do you need me there?”
“As long as it takes for you to fill these store shelves for the day. Maybe more, if we don’t hate each other. Usually takes me around three hours once I get the oven rotations going.”
“Not a problem, I’ve got that time to spare today.”
“You good with buttercream under pressure?”
I snort softly as I turn on the stove burner to heat the water. “I’ve survived worse.”
“Good answer. You said half an hour?”
I rush toward my plastic pull-out drawer of clothes. “Yep, give me thirty and I’ll be there. Preheat the ovens for me, that’ll help cut down cook time.”
“On it. I’ll pull out ingredients, too, so you can get going once you get here. And I’m sure you already know this, but don’t wear anything precious. Flour gets everywhere when we’re moving at the speed of light. See you soon.”
She hangs up without ceremony, and I punch the air in victory. Within an instant, the vacuum inside of my head loosens. Work provides structure, and I’m always planted when there’s structure.
I move around with the force of a tornado. Long gone is the thought about peeing on some test strip for me to know how long it’ll be until my heat crashes into me.
It won’t be today, and that’s all that matters.
Forty-five minutes later, I’m weaving my way through a line that’s out the door. The Gilded Lady is packed with people staring at empty shelves, and chaos greets me the further I get into the bakery.
Boxes are stacked near the countertop. Cooling racks are spread everywhere, loaded with cake layers. A woman in a bright floral apron with her hair pulled back stands with her back to the customers, the nape of her neck glistening with sweat.
I slip behind the counter before she whips her head in my direction.
“Oh, thank fuck,” she says breathlessly as she sets the bowl of batter down in her arms. She points to the back room. “Everything you need is back there. Make sure to wash your hands in hot water for thirty seconds before you get started.”
No hello.
No small talk.
This is going to be great. “Give me half an hour and I’ll be pulling the first batch out of the oven.”
Within minutes, I’m elbow-deep in compote and flour. The steady shhhink of the metal dough scraper against the stainless-steel kitchen island grounds me in the moment. I move like clockwork, rolling out pastry dough and filling the middles with compote.
The first batch slides into the oven only ten minutes after I get back there, and Tansy is already peeking her head in.
“You got a creative brain, or a science brain?”
“Huh?” I ask as I peer over my shoulder at her.
“What kind of baker are you?” she asks. “Creative or scientific?”
I’ve never had someone ask me that question before. “I’d say creative. Why?”
“Give me your first thoughts: got a bride that wants lavender accents in her cake but no purple.”
The answer comes immediately. “White base with dried culinary lavender?”
She points at me. “You’re hired.”
I bark with laughter when she disappears back to the front of the bakery.
Time always bends and silences itself when I’m baking. The measurements and the textures, the constant taste-testing—it’s overwhelming in the best ways.
The hum of the mixers backdrops the scent of sugar warming and melting on the stovetop. My mind stops chewing on itself for a while as thoughts of the guys fade into the background.
That’s why I love baking. It pulls me out of myself.
The instant I pull trays out of the oven, Tansy is using oven mitts to take them from me. It’s stunning to me that she doesn’t even have time to let them cool before dishing them out to paying customers.
After I close the ovens to let them come back to temperature, I peer through the doorway and watch as person after person leaves with a smile on their face.
With one of my pastries halfway to their mouths.
I could only dream of having customers like this one day.
It takes us around two hours to push through the morning rush before Tansy joins me in the back room. I place the last tray of cheese Danishes on the cooling rack, my shoulders aching in that satisfying way that says I’ve accomplished something.
I turn, wiping at my forehead with the back of my hand, and find Tansy leaning against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest.
“So,” she says with a grin, “you didn’t crumble under the pressure. I’m impressed.”
“High praise,” I say as I walk over to the sink and wash my hands again.
I want to text the guys about this, but I’m not picking up my phone with icky hands. After all, I need my phone for as long as possible, and it’s already six years old. That’s basically ancient in cell phone years.
It’s a weird feeling, wanting to fill them in on something happening in my life. But I want them to be part of this.
Knox will be thrilled, I’m sure.
“I could use you around here, you know,” Tansy says.
I dry off my hands and turn to face her, leaning back against the sink. “You have my number. You can call me in anytime.”
“How does thirty an hour sound for emergency call-ins like this? I know it’s not much, but it’s all I can spare right now.”
I don’t hesitate. “That rate is just fine. You need anything else done around here before I head out? Got another rush you need to prep for?”
That’s when she grins, and her next question makes me almost swallow my tongue.
“Depends. How long will your pack let me keep you today?”