The Friend Zone Pact

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Kate Davis pulled to the curb outside her aunt’s bright blue bungalow in St. Paul, Minnesota.

The neighbor kids wore sweatshirts and boots and tossed a football on the lightly snow-covered ground.

Kate stepped out of her vehicle into the bright sunshine and slight breeze.

She tucked her dark hair behind her ear and grabbed her overnight bag and the pet carrier containing her two felines.

The homes in this older neighborhood were well taken care of, the landscaping impeccable. A large harvest wreath adorned the front door, and sturdy clay pots holding yellow and orange mums flanked the front stoop.

Helen, her mom’s younger sister by four years, rushed down the front steps, her arms flung wide. “Happy Thanksgiving!”

Kate stepped into her warm embrace. At only five foot five, she towered over her aunt’s petite frame.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” she responded. Since she’d seen her, Aunt Helen’s hair had turned white, but she still resembled Kate’s mom, who insisted on dying her hair blond.

The sisters both stayed fit and looked ten years younger than they were.

“I’m so glad you decided to spend the holiday with me. Now, let me look at you.” Her aunt stepped back, scanning her from head to toe. “You’ve lost weight. You look fabulous.”

“Thank you, I feel good.”

Rubbing her hands together, Helen said, “Let’s get you all inside. What can I grab?”

Kate handed her the overnight bag, and Helen bent down and peered into the pet carrier and cooed, “Hello, sweeties. Let’s get you two out of the cold.”

Thankful her aunt loved cats, Kate followed her into the house and glanced around the entry. Her aunt and uncle had chosen not to have children, so framed photo collages of Kate growing up adorned the walls. Warm, salty, and fruity scents filled the air.

“Dinner smells wonderful,” Kate said.

“Let’s get you settled, and then we’ll eat.”

With full stomachs after a fabulous Thanksgiving dinner, they packaged the leftovers and washed the dishes. They refilled their wineglasses and relaxed on the platinum-colored couch.

Aunt Helen handed her a crocheted throw blanket. “There’s snow forecasted overnight. You may want to hold off leaving until after breakfast.”

Kate rested her head against the cushion, snuggling deep under the warm blanket. “I saw that too. I’m excited to see my new place but I’ll wait. The roads should be fine if the snow wraps up this evening.”

She glanced around the room and breathed in the hearty smell she remembered from her childhood of wood burning in the fireplace. The fire crackled and sparked, adding to the warmth of the room. Nyla and Lucy, Kate’s felines, slept in their bed close to the fire.

“Catch me up, Kate. How are you really doing after your breakup?” Helen asked.

Kate knew they’d get around to Jacques eventually. She’d been pretty tight-lipped about their breakup because the minute her seven-year relationship was over, her mother tried to set her up with a friend’s newly divorced son.

“You know, I’m doing well . . . Better now that I have a plan for my life.

One that doesn’t include a man.” Sitting straighter, Kate finished her pinot grigio and placed the empty glass on the table.

“When Jacques secured a reservation at one of the most renowned restaurants in Chicago, and after being together for seven years, I thought he was going to propose.” She stared into her wineglass and shrugged.

“Instead, it was more of a celebratory dinner for him.”

Helen quirked a brow. “How so?”

“He was offered a head chef position in France. Foolishly, I thought I’d join him. Instead, he said he’d miss me.”

Helen’s eyes widened in shock. “What did you do?”

“I stood, wished him well, and left. Then I cried for two days straight.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. That must have been heartbreaking. Nobody deserves such a brush-off, especially when you were together for so long.”

Helen finger-combed her hair to drape over one shoulder. A telltale sign Kate’s mother also used before saying something that might not be received well.

“I’m a big believer in things happening for a reason, and although that may seem cliché and nobody is ready to hear it right after a breakup, I’m happy you didn’t waste a minute longer with him.” Helen looked down at her glass and swirled the remaining liquid. “Besides, I never did like him.”

“You didn’t? Why?”

“Oh, he was an excellent chef, I’ll give him that, but he never put you first. You need someone who will cherish you, who wants to grow old with you . . . a soul mate.”

Kate rested back against the cushion. “I don’t know if I believe everyone has a soul mate out there waiting for them.”

Helen reached forward and patted her leg. “I found mine, and you’ll find yours too. I know it.”

“Well, he’ll need to find me because I’m not looking. Even if I was, I’m not ready for another relationship. I’m focusing on me and what I want.”

“And you should. You’ve got to create the new you and focus on starting your business.”

Kate always loved chatting with her aunt. She was a strong, independent woman who enjoyed life to the fullest, even after her husband, Kate’s Uncle Morris, passed.

“I’m so proud of you. I can’t wait to visit Deer Creek Falls. It sounds absolutely wonderful.”

Kate studied her empty wineglass and sighed.

“I know that look. What’s worrying you?” Aunt Helen asked.

“What doesn’t. Fear of failure. Losing my life’s savings. Going into debt and never being able to recover if the coffee shop closes after the first year.” Kate fiddled with the soft blanket. “I’m well aware twenty percent of new businesses fail within the first twelve months.”

“Honey, there are no guarantees in life, but I know you. Once you commit to something, you’re all in, and that determination makes you successful in everything you set your mind to.”

“Except relationships. I haven’t had much luck in that department,” Kate pity-mumbled.

Helen tipped her head questioningly. “Or maybe you were too determined to make a broken relationship work? Don’t compare the two.”

Taking another sip of her wine, her aunt continued.

“If I remember right, wasn’t it your goal to create wedding cakes for A-list clientele after finishing culinary school?

That was ambitious, seeing as you had just graduated and hadn’t yet found a job.

But you did it. You have always had a healthy intrinsic motivation.

I have every bridal magazine featuring your wedding cakes. ”

Kate nodded. “You’re right.” She set her empty glass on the table. “Do you think I’m wrong to give all that up and start a coffee shop in a small northern Minnesota town where the tourist season is only six months long?”

Helen grasped her hand. “I think the breakup sent you into a tailspin. But you also don’t make irrational decisions.”

“But . . .” Kate wanted to tell her aunt that buying the church was a spur-of-the-moment decision, except her aunt was on a roll, so she let her continue.

“Don’t you think the town of Deer Creek Falls could use a pastry chef and a coffee shop? The last time we talked, you said they didn’t have either.”

“True. They don’t, and they don’t have anywhere that offers healthy-alternative desserts. I plan to remedy that.”

Helen squeezed her hand. “There you go! You’ll be successful, I know it.”

Helen stood. “Come on, you need your rest. You have another big day ahead.”

Success or failure, only time would tell.

* * *

The next morning, Kate made her way to the kitchen in search of coffee. She hadn’t slept well, tossing and turning over her decision to become a business owner. She found Helen sitting at the small kitchen table, the morning light reflecting onto the glossy wood floors. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Helen said as she moved to stand.

“Sit. I know where the coffee cups are.” Kate added a little hazelnut creamer before filling her mug and topped off Helen’s before sitting down. “What are you reading? Is that a teen magazine?” Kate said in a teasing tone.

Helen chuckled. “Yes. The neighbor girl left it here the other day.”

“Learning a lot about the economy?” Kate hid her smile behind her cup.

“Hardly. It’s ridiculous how many cosmetics and lotions are available for young girls.”

Kate laughed, reflecting on the fact her aunt still used Prell shampoo. “Anything interesting?”

“Actually, yes. I’m reading an article called ‘Ten Ways to Keep a Guy in the Friend Zone.’”

“Have you met someone? I’m the worst niece ever! Here I went on and on about my relationship struggles and the worries I have about starting a business, and I never asked about your personal life.”

Helen waved a hand in dismissal. “Your life is much more interesting than mine and no, I’m not dating. Your uncle was the love of my life. But I wouldn’t mind some male companionship—the friendly kind—someone I could go to the movies with, play cards with, dine out.”

“I get that. Okay, now I’m curious. What are the ten ways to keep a guy in the friend zone?”

Helen flipped back to the beginning of the article: “One, set boundaries. Make your intentions very clear.”

“You mean, if you only want to hang out?”

“Exactly. Friends only,” Helen said. “Two, act friendly, not flirty; three, don’t worry about how you look.”

“Really? What man doesn’t care how you look?” Kate winced as Jacques’s face flitted through her mind. She always changed into pajamas or yoga pants when she returned home from work, and whenever he’d stop by and see her that way, he’d make an offhand comment about her “lazy look.”

“Someone who is head over heels in love with you, that’s who.” Helen patted her hand and continued. “Number four, keep physical contact to a minimum; five, don’t take it personally; number six . . . oh,” said Helen. “It’s okay to not hang out all the time. That’s a good one.”

Yeah, thought Kate. That is good since I’m no longer willing, nor do I have the desire, to give all my time to a relationship.

For seven years she gave her all to Jacques, spent most of her free time with him, and instead of committing, he moved out of the country.

“Number seven, be interested in what they enjoy.”

“So, pretend to watch the Twins game even if you’re only in it for the Cracker Jack?” Kate asked.

Helen giggled. “Yes. Exactly. Your uncle and I weren’t interested in all the same things, but through listening and discovery, we figured out what we both liked and what we wanted to do on our own or with friends.” Nyla rubbed against Helen’s leg, seeking attention. “I think they’re hungry.”

Lucy jumped onto Kate’s lap. She stroked the petite seal point Siamese until it purred. “They can wait a few minutes. What’s number eight?”

Helen turned her attention back to the glossy magazine.

“Number eight, reveal your flaws occasionally; nine, don’t be jealous; and ten—I like this one!

—tell others you are just friends. Your uncle and I started as friends, became best friends before he proposed.

We knew when we met that we’d spend the rest of our lives together.

I would have liked more time, but I’ve never regretted a day. ”

It was time for Kate to squeeze her aunt’s hand. Hoping to lighten the mood, Kate asked, “What I hear you saying is you can be friends with a man, but it may turn into something more?”

“Well, it did for your uncle and me, but I don’t think it has to. I think I’ll try it. There’s a gentleman at church who lost his wife a few years ago. Maybe I’ll ask him to coffee as friends. Set boundaries.” Helen winked.

“Good for you,” Kate said. “I’ll try it too, if I can find a man willing to stay in the friend zone.” Kate’s focus would be first and foremost on herself and her business—and on Lucy and Nyla, who needed breakfast before heading north to their new home.