AUSTIN
A few days later,I took the day off from work to tackle an important baking mission.
With hands on my hips and a brand-new apron, I stared at the chaos in my kitchen, which had been spotless until today. I hardly used it because ordering in was easier for a single guy like me. But now flour, sugar, yeast, measuring cups, a mixer, a whisk, a rolling pin, and tin molds were scattered all over the marble counter.
What the hell was I doing? I didn’t cook or bake, but I’d do anything to win Ava’s heart. I wanted her to know that I loved her without a doubt.
I followed the recipes from No Name that Bianca gave me. With help from some online baking videos, things progressed slowly but surely. After preparing several loaves of bread, pastry buns, and muffins, I was exhausted.
I took a bathroom break and gasped when I saw myself in the mirror. Flour covered my hair in uneven sections, like a bad hair dye. Batter and butter smeared on my face, and a glob of egg custard clung to the side of my nose and chin.Shit.My apron looked worse. After cleaning my face, I got out the brand-new baking sheets. The floured hair had to wait until I showered.
Two hours later, I stared at the magnificent miracles on my marble counter: a loaf of bread in the shape of a cat, a loaf that sort of looked like a bunny, another loaf that could pass for a bear, a dozen blueberry muffins, animal-shaped buns, apple tarts, and a heart-shaped pumpkin bread. Satisfied, I took out a pack of small notecards and wrote phrases for Ava.
When the baked goods had cooled, I placed them on a large decorative tray along with the notecards. I smiled as I placed the last card between two cat-shaped buns filled with egg custard. It read, “You knead me, and I knead you.”
I took an egg-custard bun and bit into it and spat it out. “Gross!”
I’d probably mixed up the sugar and salt or misread the directions. Hey, I was a newbie who did all this by myself without burning the house down. That deserved recognition in my opinion.
Sighing, I made a new notecard that read, “DO NOT EAT. For Display Only!” and placed it in the center of the tray so everyone could see it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
AVA
On Thursday,I stopped by my mom’s place before heading to the bakery.
“Do you want to take some with you?” She stirred the pot of chicken noodle soup.
“I’ll never say no to your chicken soup.” I smiled, taking a seat at the kitchen table. I placed my purse on the chair beside me, watching my mom scoop soup into a container.
Her light brown hair with silver mixed in had grown past her chin now. “I like your bob cut. Looks elegant.”
“I think so too.” She turned, patted her hair, and smiled, looking healthy like a polished gem.
She used to have mid-length hair that she always wore in a ponytail.
“Things are going well with you and Austin?” Mom placed the bag containing the soup on the table and sat across from me.
“Yes, we’re taking it slowly.” I explained the story of why he had to end things and how his father was old-fashioned with certain beliefs.
“What? Who still believes in arranged marriages these days? What a stubborn man!” She huffed out a breath. “Everyone knows about the Montage family. You don’t do business with them. Period. They’re vindictive. I heard of a wife who hired someone to crash into her husband’s mistress’s car because she knew he was still seeing her even though he told her they had broken up.”
I missed that news. “The wife wanted the mistress dead?”
“They’d do anything to crush their enemies.” Mom sighed.
“Is the mistress okay?”
“She got some bruises and a broken leg, but she walked away with money after she sued them. The Montages paid off people to keep it out of the news, but I heard from a friend who knew the mistress personally.”
“Crazy rich people.”
“I understand now.” Mom sighed and reached across the table for my hand. “Austin wanted them to know it was over between you and him while he tried to convince his father, who was in a vulnerable condition.”
Austin had to be gentle in his request and delivery, which was why it took him a month to break off the engagement.
“Did he break it off via text?” Mom asked sarcastically.
