Chapter 2 #2
Before I could go too far down that frustrating rabbit hole, I closed up and set off toward Meredith’s, grateful my shoes could handle the distance.
I’d just crossed Chartres Street when my phone chimed with Jake’s ringtone.
I’d been so frustrated about my meeting cancelling and then distracted by Charlotte, I’d forgotten about Jake’s postcoital text.
He sent one every time we got together. Two hours after I left, like clockwork, I got a thank you for the sex text.
It was the hookup equivalent of flowers the next day or maybe a follow up email from your hairdresser without the refer-a-friend coupon. It made me smile every time. And reminded me of all the deliciously filthy things we’d done together.
ME
It was my pleasure. As always.
JAKE
Mine too.
I grinned to myself like the sexually satisfied woman I was as I walked the next block.
When I neared Jackson Square, I remembered the missing hand towel and stopped in the shade for a moment to make a note to order replacements and have them sent to the attention of Anna, Jake’s housekeeper.
I didn’t know what happened to the originals, but I didn’t believe the laundry story. Anna ran too tight a ship for that.
Everything in Jake’s home went through Anna.
Otherwise the boxes would sit unopened inside the door.
Or worse, Jake would open the package, take out whatever he needed and let the rest sit in the box on the floor without putting them away.
I couldn’t live like that. It would drive me nuts.
I wasn’t sure Jake even noticed, but it didn’t matter.
He’d come up with a system to deal with it. Plenty of people didn’t get that far.
Charlotte was already at the bakery when I arrived, standing in front of the display case and gazing at the array of cakes and pastries.
The herringbone tile we’d chosen for the floor was holding up beautifully despite the steady traffic, and the distressed white cabinetry managed to feel bright and warm and welcoming at the same time.
Robin’s-egg blue accents dotted the rest of the space.
When we’d talked about the design, Meredith had been drawn to birds and their nests—both the idea of home and precious potential.
There were a few literal touches like the antique brass bird pulls and the delicate metal twig silverware, but the rest was more subtle while still aligning with Meredith’s vision.
Standing behind the case holding the beautiful, delicious things she made, my friend looked like she was exactly where she belonged.
“This is an unexpected treat. What’s up?” I hugged Charlotte and reached over the top of the display case, careful not to smudge the glass, to squeeze Meredith’s hand.
“Pick your poison first and then I’ll tell you both.” Charlotte looked happy—happier than I’d ever seen her in the middle of the workday. I didn’t know if it was Ford or something else, but whatever gave my friend an extra bit of joy worked for me.
“Call my pastry poison again and you won’t get any,” admonished Meredith. “It’s neither poison nor a guilty pleasure. More cake makes the world better, not worse.”
“You are absolutely right. Please, don’t cut me off. I don’t want to live in a world without your double chocolate cupcakes,” said Charlotte.
Meredith nodded regally, Charlotte appeared appropriately repentant, and I stifled a giggle.
She slid a chocolate cupcake piled high with dark chocolate icing onto a white plate with tiny blue dots around the rim and turned her attention to me.
I’d come in wanting the strawberry, but faced with so many choices, it was almost impossible to decide.
In addition to the collection of conventional cupcakes with non-conventional flavor pairings, like pink peppercorn with violet and lemon tarragon, there were a whole array of individual cakes, each shaped and decorated differently.
Tiny bits of art just waiting to be eaten.
I moved aside to make room so the employee standing next to Meredith could help the line of customers forming behind me. Making Meredith our midday treat supplier was one thing; interfering with her business was something else entirely.
“Can I have the toasted coconut praline?”
“I love those. The pralines come from Madame LeBlanc’s.
She makes them special for me.” She put the cupcake, with its mountain of toasted coconut covered buttercream, on a plate and handed it to me.
I resisted—barely—plucking the chocolate and caramel coated pecan from the top.
She chose one of the pale-yellow lemon and lavender cupcakes for herself and set the plate on a tray with a white porcelain coffee pot and cups.
She paused to lean in to press a kiss against my cheek before leading us to an empty table with a Reserved sign in an alcove in the back.
It was one of the things I loved about the layout of the store.
The front had a few two-tops and plenty of space for the line that inevitably formed for Meredith’s pastries, but we’d been able to section off a handful of tables toward the back to create a more intimate seating arrangement.
The tables filled quickly, but they gave people a place to linger and made the whole experience that much more of an indulgence.
A different design would have let us squeeze more people into the space but it would have changed the feeling.
It—like everything else—was a balancing act.
“I need some help,” said Charlotte as soon as we were settled in with our coffee and cupcakes.
“Anything,” Meredith and I said in tandem, and Charlotte grinned back at us.
“I want to throw a party for Ford, and I was hoping you’d help.”
That wasn’t what I expected, but it wasn’t an unwelcome idea.
Some people did needlework or pottery classes for fun.
I liked to put together experiences. Pick the food and flowers and manipulate the setting to create a moment for people.
Alex’s wedding had been my biggest undertaking so far.
I had no interest in changing careers. I’d leave that to the professional party planners.
I loved creating beautiful spaces for people to live and work in, but there was something about adding the element of time that made planning the occasional event fun for me.
Especially when it was for someone I loved.
I didn’t love Ford yet, but Charlotte did, and I loved her.
If things kept going the way they looked like they were, I’d have a chance to love him too.
“Of course. Whatever you need,” said Meredith, echoing my thoughts. “What’s the party for—not that Ford isn’t amazing in his own right—and when did you want to have it?”
“He just closed on his latest restaurant. I wanted to do something to celebrate. Something intimate. There will be press events and things he needs to do to promote the project, but I wanted something that was just for him.” Her face took on this expression while she spoke—not a dreamy stars in the eyes kind of thing…
more a warmth that was unexpected in the woman her peers referred to as the Tiger Shark.
I knew my friend was in love. I think we’d known before she did, or at least before she admitted it to herself. It was still wonderful to see. Some part of my heart gave a silent tug of longing, which was something I wasn’t comfortable admitting to myself.
“That sounds lovely. Did you have an idea of where you’d like to have it or how many people you wanted to invite?” I reached for my phone, running through checklists in my head.
“Wait. There’s more.” Charlotte put her hand on my arm, calling my full attention. She seemed nervous—happy but definitely nervous.
“Go on.” I sat straighter and turned to face her.
Meredith mirrored my posture. “We’re here for whatever you need.”
“I was going to wait and tell you Saturday when we’re all together, but it seems silly to talk about the party without you knowing everything.” She took a deep breath and exhaled.
My pulse ticked up sympathetically. Across from me, Meredith looked like she was holding the breath Charlotte let out.
“In addition to getting the restaurant off the ground, he’s writing a cookbook.
Before he digs into the recipes and testing—the design is going to be crazy demanding and take all of his attention—he wants to go away and recharge.
To Costa Rica. For a month.” She paused, glancing from Meredith to me and back again.
“Can he take that kind of time away from the business now?” Meredith’s voice held a twinge of envy, along with concern.
I wondered if running the bakery made her feel squeezed. I filed the thought away to ask her about it later.
“The trip is inspiration for the cookbook, and he said it’s the only time he’ll be able to do it before things go crazy with the restaurant.
The next bit is licenses, approvals, and demo.
Most of it is waiting. The rest he can do remotely.
His team and the contractor can handle everything else.
You’re doing the interior.” She waved a hand in my direction.
I’d been blessed to have friends support my business.
I’d never have been able to grow as quickly as I had without their help, starting with Erik letting me work on his house for the home tour.
He’d agreed because he loved Alex, but it provided a much-needed boost for me.
Having a chance to add restaurant design for a chef of Ford’s caliber to my portfolio felt like an abundance of riches.
I’d work hard to make the space everything he wanted.
It also made waiting on Mr. Essex’s project slightly more bearable.
“We’ll be back before any of those choices need to be made.” Charlotte watched me, her expression guarded.
“Are you worried about what will happen while he’s gone?
A month isn’t that long, really. It’s not like you’ll forget each other.
There’s always phone sex.” Calling attention to the sexy bits was usually Alex’s job.
I felt the need to step in in her stead, and then it hit me. “Wait, you said we’ll be back.”
“I’m going with him.” She looked at us expectantly.
“For a month? What about your clients? Don’t you have court? Can you get out of that kind of thing?” I surprised myself both with the speed of my questions and the feelings her pronouncement pulled up in me.
Charlotte was imminently practical. She didn’t give up everything to run after a man.
Hell, most of the reason it took her so long to admit she was in love with Ford was because of some mostly outdated—please, let them be outdated; the alternative was too depressing to entertain—ideas that loving a man ruined a woman’s career.
Up until fifteen minutes ago, I thought she’d managed to find the kind of balance I’d only seen with one other couple.
Alex and Erik seemed to have worked out an arrangement that supported both of them.
It’s not that I didn’t believe it could happen or even that I was all that concerned about it.
If I got to the point where I decided to marry and have a family, I kind of liked the idea of staying home at least part of the time with the children.
I still had the two kids/white picket fence picture in my head.
I knew that could work for some people. Maybe even for me. I wasn’t Charlotte.
Giving up her work to follow a man halfway around the world was everything she’d worried would happen.
“That’s exciting,” said Meredith, nothing if not eternally optimistic.
“It is,” I agreed.
I took a bite of my cupcake, licking toasted coconut icing off my fingers to avoid saying more.
I had no intention of ruining Charlotte’s happiness.
I didn’t hold her concerns either. At least not to the extent she did.
I just worried if she wasn’t being true to herself, it might come back to bite her in the ass. Only she could know.
“I know it’s a big deal. Especially coming from me.
I don’t know how to explain it.” She took a sip of her coffee; her lips curved in a smile over the rim.
“I just know it’s right. It’s what I want to do.
I can figure out the work stuff. I’m a badass, and I never take time off.
The firm will give me a leave of absence. It’s in their best interest.”
“That sounds perfect then. I’m happy for you.” And I was. I’d ignore the twinge of something that felt too much like jealousy in favor of making sure my friend got what she needed.
“Oh, me too!” Meredith gave Charlotte’s hand a squeeze.
“Okay, so we’re planning a Ford is awesome and Charlotte’s finding balance bon voyage party?” I said.
“Something like that,” said Charlotte, smiling for real now.
“Honestly, I know it’s crazy. I have a hard time believing it myself, but I can’t think of anything better than spending a month alone with Ford, drinking fruity drinks, reading, and lounging wrapped around each other on the beach.
Unless it’s spending more time than that. ”
Meredith, the hopeful romantic—she made wedding cakes; it fit—let out a squeal of delight. Still grinning, I shook my head.
They were dropping like flies.