Maya shook her head. “I think I’m under contract not to. In fact, I hate to ask, but you probably shouldn’t advertise that I was in here. I was nearby and couldn’t resist.”
“Of course.”
“Thanks. You have an adorable shop here.” Maya left with her treats, sneaking her hand inside the box for a chocolate-chip cookie as soon as she stepped outside the shop. It was a perfect cookie, crispy on the edge, soft in the middle, with the perfect balance of sweetness and a touch of salt. Too many chefs omitted the salt, but she was a firm believer that just a bit was necessary to enhance the flavor. With Jori and Shannon’s combined talent, this little shop had obviously flourished. If the show wasn’t such an opportunity for Shannon, Maya might feel sorry that the network had stolen her away.
C
HAPTER
E
IGHT
“So, fill me in.” Wendy leaned back and propped her bare feet up on the coffee table in the sitting area of Maya’s hotel room. A glass half full of whatever she’d pilfered from the mini-bar was balanced between her thumb and two fingers.
“Haven’t you read my daily newsletter emails?” Maya said sarcastically. She stood near the desk and sifted through the mail that Wendy had picked up at her apartment and brought with her. She sorted the envelopes into piles to deal with later.
“Actually, I haven’t gotten a single email from you in three days. They must be keeping you busy. No time for sightseeing?”
Maya recalled her stroll through downtown four days before and her visit to Drake’s. “Not much.”
“Did you find me a good bakery?” If she didn’t know Wendy so well, she might have thought she’d read her mind. But Wendy knew she liked to scope out the local shops, so whenever she visited, she took advantage of Maya’s expertise to satisfy her sweet tooth.
“Absolutely. Drake’s Desserts. Amazing lemon cake. And you’ll love her chocolate-chip cookies.” She grabbed a bottle of water and sat on the sofa next to Wendy.
“
Her
cookies?”
“Jori Diamantina.” She pronounced the last name slowly, though it didn’t sound nearly as good as when Jori had said it.
Wendy smiled, obviously picking up on the tone in Maya’s voice. “What a great name. Did you hit on her?”
“She’s taken. And she also happens to be the boss of one of my team members. So, seriously, no mention of the show if you go in there.”
“Oh yeah, which one?”
“Shannon Hayes.” At Wendy’s questioning look, she expanded. “Soccer Mom.”
“She’s still around? How’s your team doing?”
“You know they don’t want us talking about the show.”
“Who am I going to tell?”
“Not a word to anyone.”
Wendy made a motion as if locking her lips and throwing away the key.
Maya gave her a quick summary of the competition so far, leaving out her encounter in the fitness room with Shannon. Her team had survived three more eliminations since that night and remained intact. Because of an imbalance in the number of competitors on the three teams, during yesterday’s team challenge, she’d had to choose someone to sit out. She put Alice on the sideline, relying on Lucia and Shannon. They worked very well together, making solid decisions and completing tasks quickly. Alice chattered at them from the sideline, and from across the room Maya could feel Lucia and Shannon trying to tune her out.
“Do you think you have the winner?”
“Maybe. Ned is a tough competitor, but Lucia has been a contender from the beginning. And Shannon is talented and is really growing in the competition. I think they could be the final three.”
“Wow. Go, Soccer Mom. I didn’t think she had it in her.”
“I didn’t either, at first. But she’s a strong decorator, has a good feel for flavor and texture, and is a fast learner. If I can keep her motivated, she’s got a chance.”
“If
you
can keep her motivated?”
“If—ah, if she stays motivated.”
Wendy narrowed her eyes. “What are you not telling me?”
“What do you mean?” Maya stood and crossed the room, acting as if she only meant to throw away her empty water bottle. Though she avoided looking at Wendy, she could feel her stare. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Wendy sit up straighter with understanding, and she smothered a curse.
“Soccer Mom? Really?”
“She has a name.” She went to the window and pretended interest in something outside.
“Okay. But with Hot Tamale and Baby Dyke, and that cute athletic brunette I don’t have a nickname for—oh, is Sporty-Spice too dated? With all of that, you’re really going with Soccer Mom?”
“I’m not
going
with anyone. I’m here to do a job and that’s it. I just—we had a moment several days ago. But she’s been avoiding me ever since.”
“A moment?”
Maya sighed. She returned to the sofa and flopped down next to Wendy. Wedging her arm against Wendy’s, she tilted her head until it rested on her shoulder. “I ran into her in the fitness room late one night and almost kissed her, but she stopped me. That’s all.” Though she made light of the encounter, even now, days later, whenever she made eye contact with Shannon, she felt like she was back in the gym fighting that almost desperate urge. She could still feel the press of Shannon’s hand against her chest, and she swore Shannon had wanted to pull her in at least as much as she’d wanted to push her away. But these days as quickly as their gazes collided, Shannon looked away. Shannon had also avoided even a moment alone with her.
“Maya Vaughn—shot down. Wow.”
“Oh, knock it off.”
“Well, come on, that
never
happens. According to the media, anyway.” Wendy brushed her hand over Maya’s hair and cupped her cheek. “You let them make you out to be some kind of player.”
“I was.”
“Maybe. But you’re not anymore. I know the truth. You don’t take a chance very often.”
“Hey, I date.” Maya sat up straighter, breaking the contact. Sometimes she wished Wendy didn’t know her so well.
“You do.” Wendy nodded. “You date. You get photographed with your companion for the evening at this event or that. But how many times does it lead to a second?” She threaded her arm around Maya’s elbow and took her hand as if the soft touch would erase the sting from her words.
“I’m not getting involved with Shannon.” She halfheartedly attempted to pull free, but Wendy held on. She couldn’t get involved even if she wanted to, with the way Shannon was avoiding her. The fact that Shannon apparently found her so utterly resistible shouldn’t have made her irritated with Wendy, but it did.
“And you shouldn’t. Especially not while the show’s filming. But when you’re done down here, you should consider dating someone. Because I would very much like to have a social life myself, and I can’t do that if you keep working like a maniac.”
Now she jerked away in earnest. “Any time the job is too demanding for you—”
“Don’t pick a fight with me just because you’re all worked up over Soccer Mom.” Wendy’s calm tone, combined with the fact that she was right, only stoked Maya’s rising irritation.
“I’m not.”
“You are. On both counts.”
“If you can’t do what I need you to do, then I’ll find someone who will.” She stood, needing a height advantage to make her feel as if she had the upper hand in this conversation. But when Wendy met her eyes evenly, she turned away and strode across the room once again, seeking solace near the window.
“Oh, okay.” Wendy’s nonchalance challenged Maya’s irrational anger.
“Okay? Then you’re done,” she bit out, giving wheels to her sudden need to do something reckless. She’d used every bit of her restraint in the gym with Shannon, and since then she’d been looking for an excuse to let go. She’d thought that opportunity might come during Wendy’s visit, maybe if they went out somewhere together. But this would do, too. “I’ll find an assistant who’ll do what I ask without backtalk. Someone more professional and competent.”
“Be sure she has no life and is willing to devote all her time to protecting your fragile ego and shielding you from the big, bad media so you don’t actually have to take any responsibility for your life.” Wendy delivered the line without raising her voice at all. She could as easily have been reading Maya the room-service menu. But the truth to her words hit Maya harder than any shouting could have.
“Get the hell out.”
“Whatever.” Wendy gathered her phone and her purse and headed for the door.
“I’m serious.”
“I know.” Wendy waved a dismissive hand over her shoulder without even turning around. She pulled open the door and paused. “Call me when you’re being rational again.”
As the door closed behind her, Maya searched for something to throw at it. She wouldn’t actually do it, but the act of looking satisfied the tiniest bit of the urge. Without a sparring partner, the tension drained from her fight. She sighed and sank into the nearest chair.
She rested her elbows on her knees and cradled her head, squeezing her temples in frustration. She might as well run after Wendy right now, because she was going to have to apologize eventually. After the year she’d had, she couldn’t handle any more loss. Tears burned as they gathered in her eyes like water pressuring a dam, then spilled all at once over her lids and down her cheek. She managed to smother a sob until it worked its way out as a muffled whimper. But it too was only the beginning of a flood of strangled cries.
She dropped her head farther, lacing her fingers together at the back of her neck and pressing her bent arms against the side of her head as if she could continue to hide from the grief she’d been running from for months. But, alone in a hotel room, having just sent away her one true friend, she had no place left to escape to. So she gave in—to the tears and the shuddering breath. She welcomed the pain because it shut her brain off to any type of rational thought. She stayed curled in a ball on the sofa, no longer trying to hold back, until she had no tears left.
As she began to quiet, her mind came alive again, slashing at her with thoughts of a baby who never had a name, of a year spent running from one corner of the country to the other in a futile attempt to escape, and of the desire she almost never admitted—to have the pure love of someone who didn’t care who she was supposed to be, but only who she really was. At her core, she was lonely and had been for a very long time.
After months of telling herself she had everything under control, tonight she’d picked a fight with the one person who’d actually been there through it all. She drew herself up and wiped her eyes. She went to the door, intent on finding Wendy and apologizing, but when she threw it open, Wendy stood on the other side.
“Did that make you feel better?” Wendy asked as she stepped back inside and closed the door.
“Not really. Why couldn’t you just yell back at me?”
“Come here.” Wendy took her elbow and drew her into a hug.
“Do you really think I have a fragile ego?” she muttered against Wendy’s neck.
“Yes, honey.” Wendy guided her back across the suite to the sofa and they sat down. Wendy kept her arm around her shoulder. “And I think the fact that that one remark is what you took from our whole argument only reinforces my opinion.”
“So, what? You’ve just been standing out there waiting for me to come after you?”
“I was going to leave, but apparently the walls are thin around here and I heard you crying. I couldn’t go, but knocking felt awkward at that point.”
Maya chuckled. “So you decided to wait me out?”
Wendy shrugged. “I’ll admit it was a risk. You’ve been bottled up for so long. I wasn’t sure how long it would take once you got started.”
She pinched Wendy’s side, taking pleasure in her quick yelp. But when she tried to wriggle away, Maya held her tighter. “I’m sorry.”
“Do you want to talk?”
“It’s nothing new. Just everything catching up with me, I guess.”
“Maybe you should take a vacation when this show is over.”
“If by
vacation
you mean a retreat while we tell everyone I’m recovering from exhaustion, I don’t think so.” She pulled away long enough to give exaggerated finger quotes.
Wendy laughed. “Not that I don’t think a little therapy would do you good, but I meant an actual vacation. Somewhere warm maybe.” Wendy met her eyes, and she struggled not to look away from the compassion in them. “What the hell is this weather, anyway? I thought we were in the South. Do you know it was forty-four degrees this morning?”
“It’s not Florida.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t done more for you this year.” Wendy brushed her hand over Maya’s forehead and smoothed back her hair.
“It’s not like I’ve let you. I’ll figure out a way to work through all of this after this show’s over.” She couldn’t process her latent guilt and her growing dissatisfaction with her life while filming the show
and
fighting her attraction to Shannon. It was too much. So she separated all the issues and put them in little boxes in her brain and her heart and made what might be an empty promise to get back to them later.
“Are you okay to finish?”
“I can’t back out now. It would only create more drama.” And she really didn’t want to. Even aside from maintaining her reputation and relationship with the show, she wanted to see someone from her team win. She needed to focus on her competitive side and sort her emotional stuff out later.
She’d no sooner made that vow when it hit her that she would miss Shannon if she left. Despite the distance that had developed between them, the thought of not seeing Shannon every day threatened to release the feelings of loneliness just as she’d managed to get a lid on that particular box.
*
Jori glanced up at the door chime indicating someone had entered Drake’s. She’d left Mackenzie alone in the front while she caught up on paperwork. By her last count there were two customers in the shop. This latest bell meant either one of them had left or a third had entered. She left her desk and went to the doorway between the shop and the kitchen.
Sawyer stood inside the open door, holding it open for a young child and the mother who struggled to watch her child around the large cake box she carried. Sawyer balanced two Styrofoam take-out containers in her left hand, and, as she released the door, she saw Jori and waved.