Coming Back To You (8 page)

But that day wasn’t today. As with all the
other messages he had typed to her, he backspaced this one out,
too. Then he leaned the back of his head on the headrest and stared
up at ceiling.

God, what’s taking you so long? I need her.
I need her now. Before I self-destruct.

Chapter 6

Valentine’s Day

Karma pulled open the door to Single Servings and
stepped inside. At least a dozen pairs of eyes turned toward her.
Last year at that Chicago benefit where she met Mark, all the
attention had excited her. Now it just made her self-conscious.

Keeping her head down, she wandered toward
the back corner of the room.

Why had she let Jan talk her into this?

“Have you ever heard of Single Servings?” Jan
had said during their last session.

“No.”

“Well, it’s a cooking school catered toward
single people. Singles meet up, cook, eat, have a good time.
Sometimes they organize meet-ups at restaurants or do other
activities. I have a couple of other clients who attend the Single
Servings events and really enjoy them. Maybe you should give them a
try now that you’re cooking again.”

Karma balked, holding up one hand, palm out.
“I don’t think I’m ready for something like that.” Cooking in the
privacy of her home was one thing, but teaming up with other
singles in a meet-and-greet-let’s-hook-up kind of place was
another.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Jan said. “I
think you should give it a try. It sounds like something you would
really enjoy.” Jan crossed her legs. “You’ve been doing a lot of
cooking since Christmas, and even if you don’t meet anyone, if
nothing else, you’ll add a few more recipes to your pantry. It’s a
win-win any way you look at it.”

Jan had clearly wanted her to get back into
the dating public.

So, here she was, anti-mingling at her first
Single Servings event. The front half of the space was set up like
a restaurant, with small tables and booths. Most of the other
guests congregated around the bar stretched along the opposite
wall, but she and two other obviously timid types hovered alone in
the shadows, sipping cocktails.

In the back, behind a low wall, a large
kitchen area was set up with multiple stations. Apparently, that
was where the cooking took place.

“Hi there.”

Karma turned and found a tall,
not-quite-unfamiliar man standing next to her. She could swear
she’d seen him before but couldn’t remember where.

“Hi.” She took an automatic half step
back.

He smiled. “You don’t remember me, do
you?”

Karma’s gaze met his chocolate brown eyes.
“You do look familiar, but I can’t quite…” She squinted as if that
would help.

“I met you last summer,” he said, still
smiling. “At the bookstore.”

Karma’s mouth fell open. Flirt Quest. Oh God,
this was the man she’d unknowingly flashed her
Blow Him
book
at. After making a complete fool out of herself, he had hunted her
down and asked her to dinner. Or was it coffee? She couldn’t
remember. But she did remember him giving her his card.

“Brad, right?”

His face lit up. “Yes. And you’re…wait…don’t
tell me.” His eyes narrowed for a couple of seconds before he said,
“Karla?”

“Close. Karma.”

“Ah. One letter off. Damn.” He snapped his
fingers.

His gaze danced over her face, and for a long
moment, neither of them said anything.

“Is this your first time at Single Servings?”
he said.

“Yes.” She glanced down into her cocktail
glass. How awkward that she actually knew someone there.

“So, I guess you’re not still
sort of
involved
with someone?”

It took her a second to understand what he
meant, and then she remembered that was what she’d told him when he
asked her out for coffee or dinner or whatever. That she was sort
of involved with someone else. Mark. She and Mark had made an
agreement that while they were together, neither would get involved
with anyone else. That’s why she hadn’t taken Brad up on his dinner
offer. Well, that and her gut had told her Brad really wasn’t her
type.

But here they were, meeting again. What were
the odds? Maybe it was a sign.

“No, I’m not sort of involved with someone
anymore.” Saying the words sent an echo of pain through her chest,
and a lump briefly formed in her throat before she washed it down
with a sip of her drink.

His grin grew bigger, making the skin around
his eyes crinkle. “Well, lucky me then.”

He was an attractive man with thick, black
hair seasoned with a touch of grey and kind, brown eyes that
appeared a little wary, as if they’d seen their share of heartache.
His forehead was lined with shallow creases, but in an outdoorsy,
weathered kind of way. How old was Brad? He looked older than Mark.
Brad had to be at least thirty-six, if not older. That was quite an
age difference between them. Maybe that was why her gut had shied
away from him last summer.

“Yes, lucky you,” she said, lifting her
drink.

Brad glanced toward the kitchen. “So, do you
know how this works?”

“How what works?”

“Single Servings?”

She shook her head. “Not really. Just that
cooking’s involved. Why? Do you?”

“I’ve been coming to these things for a
while, so yes, you could probably call me an expert.”

“How long is a while?”

“About six months.” He sipped from what
looked like a glass of scotch. Mark had been drinking scotch the
night she met him. Brad’s choice of drink felt like a sign,
too.

The slender, blond hostess chose that moment
to step into the center of the room and tap a spoon on her glass.
“Excuse me, everyone.” She brushed her hair off her shoulder and
waited until the guests quieted. “My name’s Natalie.” Her gaze
swept the room. “I see a lot of familiar faces this evening, as
well as quite a few new ones.” Her bleached smile was so white it
looked fake. “For those new to Single Servings, welcome.” She
briefly raised her glass then proceeded to go around the room for
introductions.

Karma felt her face heat when it was her turn
to speak. “My name’s Karma Mason.”

“And what brings you to us, Karma?” Natalie
said.

She nibbled her bottom lip and glanced toward
the floor. “Um, well…” She didn’t think explaining that her
therapist had suggested she come would make a good impression. “I’m
single and like to cook, so I thought this would be a good way to
meet new people.”

That was evasive enough.

“You came to the right place,” Natalie
said.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see
Brad watching her.

The last two guests introduced themselves,
then Natalie explained how things worked. There were eight stations
in the kitchen, plus one for the instructor. The sixteen
guests—eight women and eight men—were to pair up with a member of
the opposite sex and take a station.

Brad turned to her. “Would you like to be my
partner?”

He was the obvious choice. At least she knew
Brad. Well, sort of. Could she really count a ten-minute encounter
at the bookstore, where she had royally embarrassed herself by
revealing her stack of sex books, as knowing him? Still, they had
talked, and he seemed genuinely nice. And he was more attractive
than she remembered. Kind of sexy in his maroon sweater and
charcoal grey slacks.

“Okay, sure.” She followed him into the
kitchen where they claimed a station with the number three painted
on the wall over the stove. A bevy of dessert ingredients lay
neatly on the island facing toward the front of the room.

“Everyone, put on your aprons.” Natalie
stepped behind the teaching station then tied her apron around her
waist.

Karma did the same, casting Brad a sideways
glance. He had a nice profile. He caught her eye and smiled. She
quickly looked away.

“In honor of Valentine’s Day,” Natalie said,
“we’re going to make
decadent chocolate truffles
.” She
emphasized each word. “In front of you, you have the recipe and all
the ingredients you’ll need.”

Karma picked up the six-by-nine card and
followed along as Natalie relayed the ingredients and instructions.
Then Natalie demonstrated the first few steps before turning
everyone loose.

Brad poured cream into a saucepan and set it
on the stove while Karma unwrapped the chocolate.

“So, have you read any good books lately?”
Brad asked.

“No.” Karma snapped the bar of chocolate in
half and set the pieces on their wood cutting board. “I’ve been
kind of busy.”

Busy mourning the loss of the greatest man
ever to happen to me.

Brad picked up one of the two chef’s knives
and helped her chop the chocolate. His forearm brushed hers. “Me,
too. My office picked up a new project and things have been a
little crazy. Lot of long days”

“You’re an engineer, right?” Karma remembered
that from the business card he’d given her.

“Yes. And I’m the office director, too, which
means I oversee all our projects.” He looked genuinely impressed…as
if he figured she hadn’t given him a second thought after meeting
him but was glad to hear she’d paid enough attention to remember
what he did for a living. “What do you do?”

“I’m an executive assistant for a company
that manufactures lawn care products and does landscape
design.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“It can be.” She scooped up shards of
chocolate and dropped them in a glass mixing bowl. “My degree was
in journalism, though. I’m hoping to move back into that
someday.”

“Ah, a writer, huh?” Brad checked on the
cream, making sure it wasn’t boiling.

She shrugged and chopped up the last of the
chocolate. “Maybe someday.”

They worked in silence for a couple of
minutes, and the sounds of the others talking and laughing filled
the empty space.

“I think the cream’s ready,” Brad said,
removing it from the heat.

He set it on the counter.

Karma checked the recipe. “We need to let it
cool for about twenty seconds then pour it through the sieve into
the chocolate.”

“So, you enjoy cooking?” Brad picked up the
sieve and watched the clock.

“Yes. You?”

“Some.” He picked up the pan. “I’m usually so
pressed for time, though, that I don’t cook as much as I
should.”

Karma grabbed the whisk. “Pour it slowly,”
she said as he began pouring the cream into the chocolate.

As he poured, she stirred.

“Do you have any kids?” Brad asked.

Kids? How old did he think she was? “No.
You?”

“One. A daughter.”

That was a surprise, but then it really
shouldn’t have been. Brad looked old enough to be divorced with a
kid.

“How old is she?”

“Twelve going on twenty.”

Karma laughed at the tired,
I’ve-already-had-enough-of-her-drama way he said it. “That bad,
huh?”

He tossed the sieve aside and opened the
bottle of Grand Marnier while she continued slowly stirring the hot
cream into the chocolate. “Oh, it’s not that bad, but sometimes I
can’t keep up with the mood changes. Everything’s a crisis or
unbelievably ‘awesome.’ I’m praying for the end of puberty.”

Memories of Karma’s own childhood crept into
her mind. Her life had been a wreck when she was twelve. If not for
her dad’s steadying influence and encouragement, she might not have
turned out as emotionally healthy as she had. And that was saying
something, because she still carried a lot of baggage into her
adult life from the bullying she’d endured. She could only imagine
that life for a preteen girl these days was even harder.

“Give it time. I’m sure everything will work
out. Just be there for her, and I’m sure she’ll grow up well
adjusted.” She frowned at what looked like lumps in their cream and
chocolate mixture.

“I hope so.” Brad poured a tablespoon of
Grand Marnier. “You ready for this?”

Scowling at the lumpy consistency of the
ganache, she nodded. “Sure.” Hopefully, the rest of the chocolate
would melt by the time they scooped it into balls.

Brad added the liqueur, coffee, and vanilla
then set aside the bowl. It had to sit at room temperature for an
hour.

While they waited, they cleaned then wandered
into the front of the room with a few others to grab hors d’oeuvres
and chat. After making small talk about books and work, Brad told
her he’d been married for eleven years but that they’d gotten
divorced when his daughter, Jade, was nine.

“What happened?”

“We just grew apart.” He wiped his fingers on
his small, square paper napkin. “I think we got married too young,
before we knew what we wanted. As the years passed, we seemed to
have less and less in common.” He shrugged. “After a while, all we
did was argue. It wasn’t a healthy environment for Jade.”

“Your ex-wife has custody?”

“Yes, but I see her on the weekends and get
her for a month every summer and for a couple weeks during the
holidays. She may be a diva in the making, but she’s my angel.”

Karma liked how he talked about his daughter.
Brad sounded like a good father.

After an hour passed, they returned to the
kitchen, scooped out balls of ganache, and refrigerated them for
thirty minutes while prepping the garnishments for their truffles.
Then they rolled their balls of ganache into perfect spheres and
coated them with crushed almonds, powdered sugar, or chocolate
sprinkles.

“Do we dare?” Brad said as he picked up a
finished truffle and held it toward her.

“Why not?” She grabbed one covered in
powdered sugar and held it out for him.

At the same time, they leaned in, took the
truffles in their mouths, and watched each other eat.

The chocolate was still lumpy, so fail on the
ganache, but the flavor was good.