CHAPTER TWELVE
On Monday, I’m basically the human embodiment of a tornado. I spend the morning dashing back and forth between serving customers, refilling stock as it dwindles, and creating dessert samples. In the course of our phone call on Saturday night, Gwen and I arranged for her and Evan to come into the café today during the mid-afternoon lull so we could go over options for the wedding’s dessert buffet.
Mondays are usually one of our slowest days, but not today, of course. Amid the chaos of rushing around, I send out several messages of thanks to the universe for bringing in so many customers. It’s exciting and validating to see all my social media strategies panning out and to know Marisol and I are on our way to creating a truly successful business. Even if itdoesmean I’m a caffeine-fueled human whirlwind by noon.
When the steady stream of customers turns into more of a trickle, Marisol steers me toward the café kitchen and tells me to concentrate on my ‘culinary magic’ for Gwen and Evan. I’m handling the creation of the menu and the sample tasting, and Marisol will be helping me make everything in bulk for the actual wedding reception. While I take a lot of pleasure in interacting with people and being in the hustle and bustle of the café itself, my true passion lies in the kitchen with my hands buried in dough or forming intricate designs.
Shortly after two o’clock, Gwen texts me to say they’re on their way, so I shed my flour-covered apron and assemble the samples on a large platter. I’m just about to make Gwen and Evan’s favorite hot drinks when the door opens and Gwen walks in, followed by…Jasper.
I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t do a little happy dance at the sight of him.
“Wow, Evan, you sure have changed since the last time I saw you,” I say when our eyes meet.
I expect Mr. Takes Everything Literally to say something like ‘No, it’s me, Jasper. Jasper Perry’. Much to my surprise and delight, his lips curve. “Evan had a last minute work-related emergency. Since I was already at the Village meeting with Hugh, Gwen called and asked if I’d like to take Evan’s place.”
“Well, I’m glad she did.” I come out from behind the counter to greet them, giving Gwen a kiss and hug before turning to Jasper. “Hugs still okay?”
“Certainly.” He does the zombie arms thing again, although unlike the other night, the embrace remains stiff and ends much too quickly for my liking. When we part, Gwen is watching us with an amused sparkle in her eyes.
“You and Hugh seem to have struck up quite the friendship,” I say to Jasper as I lead them to an empty table.
“Evan’s taken to calling it a ‘bromance’,” Gwen says, slipping her lightweight jacket off and draping it over the back of a chair before sitting.
“Yes, well.” Jasper’s earnest expression makes me want to laugh. “He’s quite the fascinating man. He’s got a keen business sense, and his philanthropic efforts are admirable. I appreciate him taking time out of his busy schedule to show me the inner workings of his business.”
“I told Jasper he should move to Bellevue and work for Hugh,” Gwen says. “The Village is such a massive operation, I’m sure Hugh could find something for Jasper to do.”
Jasper takes a seat across from Gwen, his gaze trained on something across the room. I don’t think he’s admiring my autumn bouquets so much as he’s avoiding looking at either of us.
Despite his diverted stare and the hard set of his mouth, I can’t help adding my two cents. “You should consider it, Jasper. You’d be a great asset to Hugh, and it would be something new and challenging for you.”
When he remains silent, Gwen and I meet each other’s eyes and make matchingyikesfaces. She mouths ‘touchy subject’ to me before leaning slowly toward Jasper as if he’s a wild animal she’s afraid to scare off. “It’s just something to think about,” she says. “No pressure. Evan and I would love to have you living in Bellevue. I’m sure Willow would too.”
I expect Jasper to finally look at Gwen, but his warm brown eyes swing to meet mine instead. The unspoken question there seems to ask if Gwen is right.
Taken by surprise, I stammer out a string of “I-I-I” before getting it together and saying, “Yes. That’s true.”
Jasper nods. I don’t need to look at Gwen to feel her eyes practically burning holes in the side of my head, willing me to glance in her direction. I hurry away from the table, calling over my shoulder that I’ll be back with the samples and coffee so we can get this tasting under way.
Upon reaching the counter, I discover Marisol has arranged three cups of coffee on a tray next to my platter of samples. “I’ll take these.” Her eyes linger on something over my shoulder, and I know she’s looking at Jasper. Her gaze returns to mine. “Your onion is begging to have more of his layers peeled back.”
I blink at her in confusion. It takes me a minute to realize what the hell she’s talking about. When I finally clue in, I say, “He’s not my onion. He’s not myanything.”
“Yet, darling.Yet.” She boops my nose with the tip of her finger, grinning wickedly when I bat her fingers away. Hoisting the tray of drinks, she sashays over to where Gwen and Jasper are sitting. I follow a moment later, setting my offerings in the center of the table.
Gwen’s soft gasp of delight paired with the little dance she does in her chair makes me laugh. She’s as much of a foodie as Marisol and I are, and it gives me great pleasure to be able to share my love of food with both of my closest friends. As I hand Gwen and Jasper each a small sheet of paper and a pen, I explain how they can write down their favorite desserts, any suggestions for flavor or decorative tweaks, and any other thoughts they might have.
Half an hour later, Gwen sits back in her seat, a satisfied smile playing over her lips as she clutches her stomach. “How am I supposed to choose? I feel like you made this impossible on purpose.” She picks up her pen and points at the sheet of paper with scribbled notes on the front and back, then aims it at the sheet she took from Jasper so she could continue writing notes when her page was full. Next, she points the pen at Jasper. “What doyouthink?”
“I think the guests at your wedding will be lucky to have such culinary delights on offer,” Jasper replies.
“Aww, that’s sweet.” Gwen lays her hand over Jasper’s where it rests on the table. “But not at all helpful.”
“I could pack up more samples and send them for Evan to try,” I offer.
“I’m all for packing up extra samples, but we both know most of them won’t make it to Evan.” She gives me a wry look, and I laugh. “He was pretty much only coming as a formality, something for us to do together before the wedding. We all knowI’mthe dessert fiend and will have final say anyway, even if it ends up being completely over the top.”
“Well, you know I’m here for over the top. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen. Why don’t I go get us refills while you ponder?” I stand and collect our mugs. Jasper makes a move to help, but I thank him and assure him I’ve got it covered.
