5
ANNA
I don’t know what’s worse: having to wait for whatever I’m baking to chill, or all the dirty dishes that come with it.
By the time I’ve dried the last mixing bowl, my cake has finally cooled long enough to decorate. I cover it using the leftover pastry cream and dust it with powdered sugar.
I snap a few pictures and then grab my sharpest knife, slice into it, and get two plates ready.
I walk over to the living room where Maya and Rosie are playing with the tiny kitchenette.
“Here, I hope you like it. It’s my third time making this, so hopefully it’s a charm.” I hand her a plate and fork and take a seat across from her on the floor.
“What is it?” She licks her lips and raises the cake to her nose, inhaling deeply. “That smells really good.”
“It’s a honey almond pastry cake. I don’t know when I’ll make it again, so savor it.
” It needs four hours to chill, but the prep and cook time combined is three hours.
It’s not too bad, but when you have a toddler who seems to have all the energy in the world and runs on apple juice and whatever she’s craving that day, it’s a little difficult to devote the time.
“Also, I’m sorry about you having to sit here with her. You really didn’t—”
“Anna, I have nothing better to do with my life right now, and there is no place I’d rather be. I don’t want to miss out on any more. So please, for the love of God, stop apologizing and shut up. You’re getting on my nerves,” she chastises with a grin, but I think she’s half serious.
It’s been eight days since she unexpectedly showed up. Since then, she’s been sleeping on my couch, buying groceries, playing with Rosie, all while applying for jobs and looking for apartments.
She hasn’t gotten lucky on those last two, but I told her she can stay as long as she wants. We still haven’t talked about what we’ve been up to since we last spoke. I’m certain like me, she’s still trying to figure out what she should and shouldn’t ask.
“Yo quiero.” Rosie climbs on my laps, her sparkling pale green eyes hungrily staring at the pastry on my plate.
I break off a piece and place it into her parted mouth. “Mmmm,” she hums, hardly chewing before she’s swallowing. “Mas.”
“Come despacio,” I warn before I give her more.
Aside from Rosie playing with her toys and every so often coming to me or Maya for a bite, it’s quiet. We’re okay, but it also feels awkward. I’m stuck between feeling really good that she’s back and worried I’m going to hear an “I told you so.”
I shouldn’t assume, but she’s fidgeting, and I feel her eyes on me.
“What?” I finally ask because I can’t handle the quiet or her probing stare.
She sits up, placing her empty plate on top of the coffee table. She clears her throat, stare drifting to Rosie before it bounces back to me. “I know I just showed up out of nowhere, and it’s okay if you say no, but I’m going to ask.”
“Okay?” I’m not certain what she’s going to say, but it’s definitely not an “I told you so.”
“If you feel comfortable, I’d like to watch Rosie while you work. I know it’s been hard on you, splitting your attention. No pressure, but I just thought I’d offer, since I’m not doing anything.”
I stare, stupefied. I didn’t know what to expect, but that wasn’t it.
“But aren’t you applying for jobs?” I set my plate on my lap and catch her eyes.
“I appreciate it, but I can’t afford to pay you.
I was exchanging babysitting services for pastries and the odd errand.
She didn’t drive, so I took her to appointments and to the grocery store each week. ”
Her brow furrows. “Who’s Yara again?”
“She’s Jenny’s aunt. I needed a place to stay and a sitter when I left New York.” I keep my answer short.
It’s not a long, harrowing story, but it still sucks to talk about it.
She must sense that because she nods and answers my previous question. “I don’t need you to pay me. I have enough saved to float me for a while.” Her tone is mischievous and a smirk tips on her lips.
“What’s with the look?”
“I knew he’d been cheating for a while.” Her jaw tics.
“But I didn’t tell him. I stayed because he’d been willing to pay for everything while I was in school.
So I took advantage of it. I still worked on the side, saved up money, and once I knew I had enough, I left my ring on his nightstand and took off. ”
“You’re telling me he doesn’t know?” My jaw drops.
“No, and he never will. I doubt he even misses me. I blocked him everywhere and intend to keep it that way.” She lifts shoulder in a half shrug.
I can tell she’s not over it, that she’s hurting, but she’s playing it off.
“Anyway, if you feel comfortable, let me watch Rosie. I have some experience watching kids. I’m fairly decent with them. ”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“I’m just being honest, but I swear she’ll be in good hands. And don’t be stubborn. I really don’t need your money. Let me help you, you could definitely…” Her gaze drifts over my small apartment. “Use it.”
“Don’t look at my home like that.” I fold my arms against my chest. “It’s the best I could do, but the bakery is doing okay, so maybe next year.”
Or two, but I don’t tell her that.
“I’m happy for you…I know this was always your dream, and I’m glad to know it finally became a reality.”
“Me too.” I flash her a small smile, and she offers me one in return.
My hands twitch at my sides, but I don’t lift them or lean in to hug her and she doesn’t either.
We never have, and I’m not sure it’s something we’ll start doing anytime soon.
“Rosie is a lot. Don’t let her innocent little face fool you. She’s a menace and—”
“Don’t worry, I have it all under control. You just worry about your bakery, and I’ll take good care of her.”
I can’t believe it took this long, but it feels like things are finally settling into place. Moving to Boston was possibly one of the best things to happen to me.
“I still can’t believe Maya is watching Rosie or that she’s back and you guys are okay.” Jenny shakes her head in disbelief from the small screen of my phone. “Tell me everything.”
She’s a pharmacy tech and is currently on break, so she called me because she’s nosy and wants an update. We don’t talk as much as we used to, and while we live only a few hours apart, life is busy.
“There’s not much to say. It’s no different than it was on Monday, but so far so good. Rosie is over the moon.”
Maya has been watching Rosie for five days now and while work has become a lot easier, I’m also a little on edge.
She’s only ever stayed with Yara and occasionally Jenny and Em.
And it’s not that I don’t trust Maya, I do, but almost three-year-olds are a lot.
My sister hasn’t complained; in fact, she’s happy to be with her.
I move my phone from where it’s resting against a dirty bowl and prop it against the backsplash. Em is at the front tending to customers and making sure the cabinet stocked and clean, while I’m in the back finishing the last of today’s pastries, and of course, washing dishes.
“Oh.” She stuffs a forkful of her salad in her mouth. She chews pensively. “How are you doing?”
“Good.”
“But?” she presses, eyeing me like she knows there’s more.
Jenny knows me too well. I want to lie and change the subject, but she’s the only person besides Em who I can speak candidly to and know I won’t be made to feel like shit.
“Sometimes it just feels like it’s too good to be true. You know how bad it was when we last spoke years ago. Granted, we haven’t broached that subject yet, but—”
“I know you said you didn’t want to, but I think maybe you should tell her about Sylas and his parents.
” She speaks over me, an empathetic expression marring her face.
“I know it’s not something you’re comfortable talking about, and I respect that, but maybe you’d feel better if you opened up to her. ”
I’ve thought about telling Maya, completely spilling everything that happened. I know I was stupid, but I don’t want to hear my older sister tell me that. Or see a smug look on her face.
“I mean, does talking about it even matter? It happened over two years ago and it’s over with. I haven’t seen or spoken to them since, so it doesn’t—”
“Don’t you dare say it doesn’t matter,” she grimly states. “They fucking threatened—”
“Jenny,” I cut her off, softening the bite in my voice. “It’s been two years. There’s no point in bringing it up.”
She sighs, stuffing a piece of grilled chicken in her mouth.
“I know.” She chews and swallows before speaking again.
“Regardless of what you do or don’t tell her, I think she’ll understand.
Or at least listen and be there for you.
It seems like she’s really trying. Don’t let fear make you think otherwise. ”
“I’m not scared,” I lie, because I’m petrified, but I can’t tell her that. I can’t tell anyone that.
It’s not just losing my sister but my best friends. They’re all I have, but that doesn’t mean I let myself depend on them. Anyone can easily leave, and while I don’t think Clementine or Jenny would, I gave my all to Sylas. I loved him in a way I hadn’t ever loved anyone. And he left.
It was bad enough having my parents and sister cut me off. Then he broke up with me and I had to deal with the after. I’d never felt more alone in my life. I can’t go through that again.
So yeah, I’m terrified to get attached to my sister, which is really fucking sad, but I can’t lose myself again. I’ve let her into our lives, but I’m keeping a safe mental distance from her.
“Sweets.” Em pushes the swinging door open, poking her head in. “I need you for a cake order.”
“I gotta go, but call me if you need anything,” I tell Jenny.
“You call me if you need anything,” she asserts, exasperated. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right?”
“I know.” I smile and grab my bakery order form and planner. “I gotta go. Love you.”
“Love you.” She blows me a kiss and hangs up.
I exhale a sharp breath before I slip to the front but falter in my step when I spot a very familiar tall frame.
Marcello Galante, Sylas’s best friend, stands behind the counter, a charming smile stretched across his face as he speaks to Em.
I knew he’d be here before I moved to Boston, but considering he’s a professional hockey player, I didn’t ever think I’d run into him.
It seems like my luck has run out.
“That’s Anna, she’s the one who made…” I zone out when she hikes a thumb over her shoulder, causing his attention to stray to me.
His smile slips, and his eyes grow in size. I’m certain we’re both mirroring each other’s shocked expressions.
“Anna, hey.” Despite the evenness in his voice, there’s no masking the way Marc gawks.
I haven’t moved and realizing that, I urge myself to stand next to my coworker. Puffing out a shaky breath, I curl my lips into a smile—at least I hope it looks like one.
“Hey…Marc.”
“Wait, you two know each other?” Em’s gaze bounces between us, and a glint shines in her eyes. I know what that look screams, but I shake my head, letting her know it’s not like that.
“Yeah, we went to King’s Yard,” I answer simply.
She must pick up on the weird tension because she says, “Do you want me to take this order? I know you were finishing up in the back.”
“No, it’s okay. I got it.”
She hesitates before she’s nodding and heading to the kitchen. “If you need anything, yell out.”
I set my stuff on the counter and draw the pen from the spiral of my planner. As I’m flipping the pages to find a brand-new one, he exhales deeply.
“It’s been…years…” His throat works a swallow. “How’ve you been?”
“Good, I’ve been good.” I’d almost forgotten how tall he is. I have to crane my neck to look up at him. “How have you been?” I awkwardly ask.
The last time we spoke was before Sylas broke up with me. I didn’t bother to stay in contact or keep up with his or the other guys’ lives. Not that I could’ve; I blocked them too.
They didn’t do anything wrong. They were nice, but he was their best friend, not mine.
“Good, good too…”
“So—” we start.
“Sorry, you first,” he says.
“Yeah.” I write the date on the top right corner and worry at my bottom lip. Treat him like any other customer. Stop being weird, I tell myself. “So what can I do for you?”
“Right, yeah.” He snaps out of it. “Gianna said you make the best pastries. She said your tres leches cake is the best she’s ever had and of course it is, you made it. So I want to order that.”
Gianna was one of my very first clients and has been a regular since we opened.
She’s tried just about everything and sometimes places an order for something different when she’s feeling adventurous.
I don’t know much about her other than she’s covered in tattoos, she’s a barber, she’s gorgeous, and she’s really friendly.
I don’t ask about who her clients are and she doesn’t share, so I never would have seen this coming.
“She really loves that cake.” I smile remembering all the reaction texts she sends me. “Do you want it exactly how I made it for her? I can change the filling and the decor.”
“No, don’t change anything,” he answers eagerly.
“Do you have any allergies?”
I know he doesn’t, but I ask anyway.
I used to bake stuff for the guys all the time, and I had them taste my new recipes too.
Sometimes all of Sylas’s teammates would come over to his penthouse to try them; sometimes it’d just be his closest friends.
“Nope, no allergies.” He gives me a tight-lipped smile as if he knows where my thoughts strayed to.
We go over a few more basics like when he’ll need it and how much it’ll be and about leaving a deposit. Once we’re through, he lingers.
“Anna,” he begins, but closes his mouth. He stares at me long, eyes searching mine for…what? I don’t know. “Sylas—”
“No,” I cut him off sharply. “Do you need anything else?”
“Right, yeah.” He steps back, looking at the display case filled with pastries. He grabs a few and then picks up some of the business cards, stuffing them in his pocket.
As he pays, he glances at me like he wants to say more but just smiles. “I’ll be here in two weeks.”
“We’ll have it ready…” I paste a professional smile on and keep it on my face until he exits the shop.
Clementine pops back out. “Why do I feel like there’s more to it than you guys just being old college acquaintances?”
My heart shrivels when I think about his best friend, and how he broke my heart without a care, never once looking back.
But it’s whatever. He lives in Colorado, and I’ll never have to see him again.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”