Prologue
Mia Jacobs hummed softly as she whipped some more cream to add to the apple pie that she'd left at the table - a table that seated four of the most important people in her life now, after...after the difficult times. At twenty-six, she was the owner of a quaint, little cafe - Sunny Side Up - where she baked and cooked all the food with care, herself. After years of being caged one way or the other, she’d made up her mind in an impulse for the first time, when she’d seen this place for sale. The 4000+ sq. ft. cafe space that also came with a residential setup on the first floor was a dream come true for her. She didn’t spare any efforts on getting the space done just as she’d dreamed over the years - wooden flooring, comfortable couches and chairs, colorful, quirky decor, beautiful indoor plants, and huge floor-to-ceiling windows that lit the entire place.
Cooking, more importantly, baking had always been therapeutic for her. That she could make a living out of her cherished hobby, only added to her happiness. When she’d begun this little venture in Bangalore, India, a couple of months back, she hadn’t expected the overwhelming response.At this rate, I’d needmore help and soon, she thought to herself absently. She roused herself from her thoughts when she heard the tingle of thewind chimes hung at the front door. Sighing and washing her hands, she took the whipped cream and walked out of the kitchen.
On the way out, Mia took her time to also pick up the menu before joining her friends. Just as she walked towards the table that was partially hidden by an alcove, she stopped short. That voice! She’d recognize that voice anywhere. It was the same voice that had haunted her for years. She stumbled and stopped by the nearest table to gather her racing pulse and her wayward thoughts. What washedoing here? Why did she face downfalls, every time something positive approached her way? She swallowed the pain along with that depressing thought and marched forward with a sigh. Time to face some past demons!
Armaan Malik, one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, was lounging with his friends in the small cafe, on a Saturday morning. Born in an affluent family to an Indian father and an American mother, he never had to struggle for anything; materialistic, at least! Rarely did he get up before noon during weekends, too tired to be up after partying until the wee hours. A tabloid favorite, he’d found solace in the drinking and partying. Lately, the same old routine of party till you drop had started to lose its shine. Perhaps, he was getting too old for this lifestyle. Who would have thought at thirty-two Armaan Malik would finally tire of fast living?
That’s why this morning, on an impulse, he’d seen Tanya’s invite in the common WhatsApp group and had decided to swing by. Although he could work an entire room of people with his charm, Armaan did not have many close friends. Only Neil, Arjun, and Rahul were his three best friends since childhood. These guys were more like his brothers; they’d do anything for him, and he’d gladly return the favor any day. Recently, both Neil and Arjun had found love. He absently mused if he was feeling left out and restless after seeing them bask in their new-found love. Women loved his body and his money, of course, but he was smart enough to always extricate himself before his partners started getting serious. He shuddered at the prospect of that shit show. Cursing himself for having these useless thoughts, he went in before he could change his mind.
As soon as he entered the new cafe that his friends had been raving about, he heard Tanya, Neil’s wife, whisper-yell. “Wow, how come he’s awake at this hour?” They all knew he was a night owl who hated stepping out on weekends before noon. Briefly ignoring the cute little brunette who never failed to amuse him, he waved and pulled out a chair, and sat down next to his other friend Arjun and his fiancée Natasha.
“Bro, your girl clearly doesn’t know the meaning of keeping things to oneself.” He smirked at Tanya, although he addressed Neil, who had somehow managed to ensnare the tiny, lovable Tanya.
“Is that so?” Tanya immediately turned to look at Neil with a puppy face.
“No, honey. All that he’s trying to say is that you don’t mince words, and you’re very forthright.” Neil shot him a dirty look while trying to pacify his girl.
Armaan was amused at his friend’s plight.How the high and mighty fall, he thought to himself with a smirk. Knowing he was being a jerk, he uttered “Pu**ywhipped”, and masked it with a cough. Immediately, he winced when he felt Neil kick him under the table. Before he could retaliate, he was distracted by the aroma of good food and the sight of apple pie. His favorite! He quickly snatched a fresh fork and dug into it. The minute he tasted the pie, his easy expression completely changed. He’d tasted pies like this only during that special period in his life; one that was associated withher.“Who made this?”
Tanya and Natasha were surprised at his question, while the men frowned at his tone.
“Who the hell made this pie?” Armaan’s voice was harsh.
“I did.”
He whirled around when he heard the quiet reply, coming face-to-face with the woman who’d haunted his thoughts for far too long. “Mia,” He breathed in disbelief.
“Your coffee, guys.” She placed the pot on the table and almost ran back into the kitchen.He’d recognized; Lord Almighty, he only had to taste the pie and he knew. What did that mean? Does he remember me? Even after all these years?Mia sagged by the counter and took a few deep breaths. She willed her breathing to get back to normal. She wasn’t prone to anxiety these days, not anymore. Not since...Mia abruptly jerked when she heard the kitchen doors open.
“Mia, what are you doing here? Is this your cafe? Or, do you work here or something?” The tall, good looking man who stood before her looked nothing like the Armaan she knew. At over six-feet tall, he looked stunning with his sharp, grey eyes, chiselled cheekbones, and the shocking dark hair. Even the day’s old stubble only added to his charisma. She was aware Armaan was more suave, more handsome, and definitely looked harsher. Although outwardly he appeared smooth and unruffled, she looked into his eyes to recognize shock and confusion.
Armaan felt the greenish-blue eyes pierce him - his soul, to be more precise. He’d always felt her gaze look beyond the obvious. That was one of the things that had made it difficult to forget her. Damn! It had been years since he’d allowed himself to think about her. Yet, here she was, right in front of him after...everything. She was more mature, her curves more pronounced, compared to five years back. But her allure was intact. “So?” His impatient tone roused her.
“This place is mine. I own this cafe.” Mia lifted her chin in a defensive gesture, almost daring him to say something.
Armaan raised his brow and nodded. “Wow, okay! I didn’t know you lived in India. I mean, I don’t know anything about you. How have you been, Ms. Jones?” The smile on his lips never reached his eyes.
“Mrs. Jacobs,” She automatically corrected him, stopping herself from wincing at the same time. Mia hated the name - Mrs. Jacobs. She reined in her anger and replied in a calm tone. “I am doing good, Armaan. What about you? I see the years have been kind to you.”
He noticed her full lips form a partial smile and felt his body react. Shit! She was someone else’s wife. He had no business looking at her full pout or those bouncy curls. Hell, no! Not now, not ever. Yet, he felt anger boil at the thought of another man with her. Peter Jacobs! The one man he had hated at first sight. He’d never understood what she saw in a man like Jacobs. “You’ve relocated with your family here? Since when?” Ignoring her statement, he asked her more about herself.
Mia paled for a minute before she looked past his shoulder. Her eyes glazed and he felt her slip away from him mentally.
“Mia!” Armaan called out her name. “What happened?”
“Huh! Nothing! Yes, I live here, and this is my business.” Her tone was flat, almost disinterested.
“Your...husband? Do you have kids?” Armaan was hesitant to prod, but he couldn’t stop. He needed to know she was okay! Some masochistic bone in his body wanted to know she was happy with her husband, her family.
Mia looked positively sick at his question. She ignored his concerned look and turned away slightly. “Peter is no more. He passed away two years back. And, no, I don’t have kids.” Her eyes turned glassy, and he felt short gasps shoot out of her mouth.
Sensing her distress, Armaan moved closer to her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” His quiet voice calmed her a little. He felt her take a deep breath before turning to look at him once more.
“I...I need to go. They are all waiting outside. Please don’t make this harder for me. I’ve finally restarted my life after...after everything. I can’t do this now.” Her voice almost broke in the end.
He stiffened at her insinuation that he was the cause of all her miseries. Coming to a quick decision, he replied in a controlled voice that failed to hide his anger. “So be it, then. I won’t come in your way, Mia. Not that I ever did all these years. Take care and good luck.” He didn’t wait for her to reply but marched out of the kitchen and her cafe without a single glance.
