Authors: Kate Perry
“
The owner’s name is Eve
Alexander, and her store is cute if small. She bakes her own
pastries.” He handed her the white baggie. “Her business is
completely different than yours. I don’t see how it should affect
you.”
“
It does affect me. She’s
stealing my customers.” Frowning, his mom opened the bag and
sniffed suspiciously. “She made this?”
“
Yeah.” If it were anyone
else, he’d have suggested that she buy her scones from Eve, but his
mother would have taken that as a betrayal. “I have to get to my
job site, Mom. See you later.”
She grabbed his arm. “Wait. I have
more questions.”
“
Mom, I have a crew I need
to check on.”
“
But—”
“
Go over there yourself.
Introduce yourself to her. She’s nice.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Nice?”
He kissed her cheek. “Call me if the
faucet acts up.”
“
Treat—”
“
No,” he said, guessing
what she was going to ask.
“
But—”
“
No. Bye, Mom.” He kissed
her again and extricated himself before she could guilt him into
going back to Grounds for Thought. He liked flirting with
temptation as much as the next guy, but the last thing he needed
was to get mixed up with Eve Alexander. A good girl who was his
mother’s rival? It spelled trouble, and nothing was worth that,
even if she did bake like an angel and wear sinful
shoes.
Chapter Three
Eve looked out her café’s window and
then reached for the phone. Taking out the scrap of paper Freya had
given her, she dialed the number.
Voicemail again, just like the other
mornings she’d called. She left another brief message and hung
up.
She didn’t want to come off as a
stalker but this was important. She’d projected the revenue a
celebrity book launch party would bring in and figured it was
enough to cover a whole month of expenses. That was if it did
modestly well, and it didn’t factor in the increased business it’d
generate. Daniela was her savior. Eve wasn’t going to give
up.
Speaking of repeat
business…
Eve glanced out the window again as
she wiped the counter.
“
Who are you waiting for?”
Allison asked, coming around the counter with a tray of
muffins.
“
No one. Why?”
“
Because you keep looking
out the window like you expect to see someone stroll up the
block.”
Her cheeks warmed. She wanted to deny
it but she wasn’t a good liar. Allison would see through her in a
second.
Allison grinned, setting
the muffins on the rack to cool. “You
are
waiting for someone, and that
someone isn’t Freya.”
“
Did you put the scones in
the oven? Maybe I should check on them.”
“
It’s a man.” The older
woman’s eyes widened. “Who is he?”
“
No one.” She pictured
Treat, with his chocolaty eyes, broad shoulders, and easy smile and
flushed all head-to-toe.
“
It’s not
no one
,” Allison
insisted. “Tell me about him.”
Eve shook her head. “There’s nothing
to tell. This guy came in yesterday and he was cute. End of
story.”
“
So cute you’re still
thinking of him. Did you get his name?”
“
Treat.” She didn’t say she
also had his email address. Not that she was going to use it to
contact him—that’d just be wrong. Tempting, but wrong.
Her barista laughed. “Was he good
enough to nibble?”
“
Allison.
”
She laughed louder.
The phone rang. Eve leapt for it,
eager for the reprieve. “Hello?”
“
Eve Alexander,
please.”
“
Speaking.”
“
Hello, Eve, this is Carmen
McKnight. I run Daniela Rossi’s PR.”
Butterflies took flight in her belly.
The pressure of getting Daniela Rossi, the hottest dessert chef in
the country, into her store grayed her vision, and she had to
breathe deeply to focus. Waving to Allison, she headed to the
kitchen for privacy.
The McKnight woman
continued in her brisk New York accent. “I understand you’re
interested in hosting the launch party for the release of
Daniela’s Desserts at Home
.”
This was it. Her entire future, and
that of her café, rested on making this event happen. “It’ll be a
great fit. Grounds for Thought is in San Francisco, Mecca for
foodies, and the café’s atmosphere compliments Daniela’s
style.”
“
Have you seen the
cookbook?”
“
No, but I’m familiar with
Daniela’s TV show. I’m a big fan. I even use her recipe for
biscotti here in the café.”
“
Hm.”
What did that mean? Using her firm
marketing voice, Eve improvised. “Grounds for Thought is unique in
that not only do we bake our own pastries, but we also feature
select books. I’m happy to send you a packet on the café, including
pictures. You’ll see that the homey atmosphere here would
compliment Daniela’s cookbook. Of course, we’d feature some of her
recipes in the week leading up to the event as well.”
“
You understand that this
is Daniela’s first cookbook. We want to make a huge
splash.”
“
I assure you, I have the
connections and knowledge to make this an unforgettable event. I
was the marketing director for Evolve Design here in the city. Have
you heard of them?”
The woman’s tone warmed
from frigid to minorly chilly. “They handled the
Pantone Magazine
launch,
didn’t they?”
“
I drove the marketing
efforts on that campaign personally.”
“
Hm.”
This time Carmen’s hum was more
thoughtful. Even though Eve wanted to push she knew she’d appear
more confident waiting for the other woman to make the next
move.
She hated waiting.
Finally Carmen said, “The cookbook
comes out in a month. I trust setting the event’s date for the
fifteenth would work for you? You’ll have enough time to take care
of everything?”
“
Definitely,” she said with
calm she wasn’t feeling.
“
I still need to talk to
several other people who’ve approached us about the launch. In the
end, however, the choice is up to Daniela.”
“
How about if I email you a
press packet for Ground for Thought along with an outline of my
ideas for the event? Will that make it easier for you?”
“
Yes.” Carmen soundly
surprised and a bit relieved. “Do you have my email
address?”
“
Hold on just a
second.”
Pen, pen, pen…
She rifled through a drawer and found one.
Flipping over a receipt, she said, “Go ahead.”
The woman recited the address.
Thanking her, Eve hung up.
Then she jumped up and
down. “
Yes.
”
She had her foot in the door. All she
needed to do was follow through and convince Daniela to host her
cookbook launch at Grounds for Thought.
It’d put her little shop permanently
on the map.
She’d never have to worry about money
again.
Her dad would get off her
back.
A month didn’t give her much time to
plan though. She needed to send Carmen McKnight the press kit ASAP,
and then she’d have to start the ball rolling on media coverage.
She definitely wanted an article or two in the Chronicle, and that
took time to organize.
Thinking about it all, Eve checked on
the scones in the oven, taking them out. Buoyed with hope, she
pushed the kitchen door open with her hip. “Hot stuff behind you,”
she said to Allison.
“
Hot stuff in front of you
too.” The older woman motioned with her chin.
Eve glanced up and met Treat’s gaze
through the storefront window. He was headed in here. Her skin
flushed, from her chest all the way to her cheeks.
Allison gasped and leaned
across the counter to stare at him. “That’s the guy, isn’t it?
The
cute
one
you’ve been watching for.”
“
Stop it.”
“
How could you possibly
call him
cute
?”
Her face scrunched at the word. “That man is downright
hot.”
“
He’s coming in
here.”
“
I know, and you better put
those scones down before you drop them.”
“
Shh
,” she hissed, carefully setting the tray on the
rack.
The front door tinkled as it opened
and they both watched Treat enter. Eve’s face burned as he headed
straight for her, and her stomach fluttered with nerves.
She’d always had a thing for bad boys,
and with his long ponytailed hair and the tribal tattoo circling a
thick bicep, Treat definitely qualified as a bad boy in her
book.
Hoping her smile was friendly instead
of leering, she greeted him. “Treat, you came back.”
“
I couldn’t resist.” His
voice was sleep raspy, like he’d just rolled out of bed.
The image made her face burn hotter.
Ignoring Allison’s pointed look, she cleared her throat. “Would you
like a mocha?”
“
Please.”
She nodded and turned to make it. She
felt his gaze on her back and hoped he wasn’t wondering if the red
creeping up her neck was a rash.
Setting the mug in front of him, she
asked, “Will that be it for you?”
He flashed her his lopsided grin.
“Depends on what else you have to offer.”
Allison chortled.
She narrowed her eyes at her supposed
friend.
“
How about a chocolate
croissant again? It was delicious,” he said, saving her from having
to reply.
Nodding, she put his pastry on a plate
and rang him up.
She flushed when their hands brushed
as he handed her a ten-dollar bill. Reminding herself that she was
a thirty-two year old adult and not a schoolgirl with her first
crush, she handed him his change. “Enjoy.”
“
Thanks.” He gave her
another knee-weakening smile and took his breakfast to the table he
sat at before, grabbing a newspaper on the way.
“
Enjoy?
” Allison asked incredulously.
“
Shh.” She looked to see if
he heard.
“
You’re going to have to do
better than that. Show a little cleavage. Put your hair down.
Blondes are supposed to have fun.”
She touched her chin-length
bob. “My hair
is
down, and I do have fun.”
“
Not
that
kind of fun.” She pointed at the
man.
“
Allison.” Eve pushed the
woman’s hand away.
“
At least go talk to
him.”
“
No.”
“
Why not?” The older woman
put her hands on her hips. “There’s not a breathing woman on this
planet who wouldn’t be interested in that man.”
Because he oozed sex. She glanced at
him and wondered if he’d come back for her.
“
If I were a few years
younger I’d go for him myself. You don’t suppose he likes older
women?” Allison adjusted her white peasant blouse to reveal a
little more cleavage.
“
Stop,” she said,
laughing.
“
Tom wouldn’t like me
bringing home another man anyway. Not that Treat would be
interested,” Allison said, still fiddling with her top. “He only
has eyes for you.”
Eve shook her head. “He likes my
mocha.”
The older dismissed that with a wave
of her hand. “He can get a mocha anywhere. He likes
you.”
“
How do you
know?”
“
Because he can’t keep his
eyes off you. He’s probably wondering if you taste as good as that
croissant,” she added with a saucy wink.
“
Allison
.”
“
I may be old, but I know a
thing or two about passion. Tom and I have been together thirty
years and we’ve never been bored in that department. The other
night, Tom—”
“
I don’t need to hear
this.” She covered her ears with her hands.
Allison pulled them aside. “I’m only
saying I recognize passion, and that man has it directed at
you.”
Eve turned to look at him. He glanced
up at the same moment and smiled. Blushing, she turned and
pretended to wipe the counter.
“
See? He wants you.”
Allison leaned in. “I bet he goes commando under those
jeans.”
“
Allison
.” Glancing at him, she
lowered her voice to a whisper. “You don’t know that he doesn’t
wear underwear.”
“
I don’t, but I think you
should find out.”
She imagined unbuttoning his jeans and
sliding her hands in to find bare flesh underneath. She felt her
face go up in flames.