I opened my mouth to say more but hesitated.
“But?” Gabriela asked knowingly.
“But it’s okay to really miss your temporary fling, right?” I asked. “I mean, it’s been five days, but every day has seemed impossibly long and dreary, but that should go away in what, two weeks? I should be back to old Ava.”
Freya seemed to consider it while Gabriela looked troubled.
“What I do find concerning is that you haven’t wateredyour potted azalea,” Gabriela pointed out. “It looked like it was a few days from death when I showed up to pick you up earlier today. You never kill your potted plants.”
“And you never miss asking me to recap the latest episode ofLove in the Islandon Sunday mornings,” Freya said. “You haven’t done that lately. You know half the reason I watch that silly show is to hear your gasp of horror whenever I tell you who got paired off with who on that deserted island. I’m worried about you.”
I covered my face with my hands. “I feel like I’m out of emotions to care about my plants or TV shows,” I admitted. “It’s like a part of me has shriveled up and died. And I don’t understand why.”
“I think I do,” Gabriela said, thoughtfully, just as all of us turned to her. “I think you had something really special with Desmond. Considering he was your high school boyfriend, it might have meant more than you’d expected it to. And don’t hate me for this, but I think you should give him another chance. I think Desmond made a mistake in not telling you about the risk of losing your mom’s restaurant, but he did it so that he wouldn’t jeopardize his chance at a relationship with you. That doesn’t sound like a man looking for a fling.”
I frowned and slumped back in my chair, looking grumpy. “Everything about our two weeks felt right. Everything except for the breakup.”
Freya sat down next to me, and we spent a minute in some silence. Then, she turned to me. “Don’t hate me for asking this. Do you think Desmond makes a good businessman?”
I turned the glass of martini in my hand and thought of the newflexible work scheduleinitiative that Desmond hadset off recently. About his competitive streak at work that put Luxe Hotels at number two in the luxury hotels department.
I nodded. “I do.”
“Then, if Desmond thinks that your mom’s restaurant shouldn’t be revived, do you think he’d be doing that to spite you or because he thinks it’s a sound financial decision?”
I stared at her. I couldn’t hold a grudge against Des. I couldn’t hold a grudge against a man who made me forget reason, who made me lose track of time when we were together, who made me laugh and feel safe at the same time. I … I loved him. There. It was time I admitted it to myself, right? I could love him and still stay away from him. Women had done this in the past.
The sip of martini I took felt cool and refreshing. I let the liquid swirl around in my mouth as the answer came to me. “Because it’s a sound financial decision.”
She looked at me kindly and let that sink in a bit.
I brought my hand to my forehead and groaned, sending my half-drunk glass of martini sloshing.
“Would you really be okay with him if he did that?” Lily asked, sounding disbelieving as she took the glass from my hand and set it down on the table.
I bit my lower lip, considering it. “If he tore down Mom’s restaurant?”
Lily nodded. “We aren’t even working in it anymore,” she pointed out. “It’s been a month.”
I rubbed my temples with my fingers. “Gosh, I hadn’t even realized it’s been so long.” I stared around the table and then met Gabriela’s calm gaze. “What do you think?”
“I’m glad not to be worrying about our next paycheck anymore,” she said, and I found myself agreeing.
I reached for my glass of martini. My evenings and weekends had felt better without the overhanging cloud of financial doom. If I took my emotions away from it, I could see that I’d been trying too hard to save a restaurant that hadn’t deserved it in the first place.
“I need to talk to Desmond,” I said, finishing the glass of martini just as Freya and the others cheered.
I looked up with a mild smile. “I can see the popular opinion on Desmond hasn’t changed.”
“Not one bit,” Gabi said, and the others grinned.
Two hours later,I got back to my apartment building on Elizabeth Street. Picking out my key, I walked up to the landing on the stairs and reached for the doorknob, feeling out of sorts.
That was when I saw it.
It was a brown box, sitting on my doorstep, with the wordsHulle Bakeshopwritten in whimsical red font. The same bakery Des had mentioned in the morning before the interview with Bianca.
I knelt down and opened it to see a round espresso chocolate cake, twelve inch in diameter, with delicate chocolate flowers scattered on its top. It had cream frosting on the sides and sprinkles of chocolate shavings placed so artfully that it almost looked like it was tossed out there in willful abandon. And the smell … I closed my eyes and inhaled. Chocolate, espresso, and sugar. Mmm.
