Sugar Rush (31 page)
Baxter looked up at Lani. “No, I do need to talk to you. Something else.” He turned back to Alva, who Lani noted was watching the byplay between them quite closely. Baxter reached out his hand and took Alva’s in a brief squeeze, which made her already expertly powdered cheeks pink up a bit more. “I’ll see you this evening.”
“Seven sharp,” Alva said. “Unlike you city folk, I put stock in punctuality. My menu is precisely timed.”
“I won’t be a second late,” he assured her, grinning broadly.
Alva beamed, full twinkle, then patted her hair, tucked her purse under her arm, and waved them good-bye.
They waved back; then Baxter turned and surprised a squeal out of Lani by framing her hips with his hands and swinging her off the steps.
“What are you doing—?”
“I have a proposition.”
She stopped, closed her mouth, and lifted her brows. “Really?”
He nodded, and there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that rivaled Alva’s.
“Did you rethink my idea about playing hooky?”
“First, are you sure everything is okay?”
“What? Oh, that. Yes. Seeing Charlotte in the prep kitchen just kind of ... threw me.” That was true enough.
Baxter tilted his head slightly. “Are you sure that’s all? You seem quite distracted. Did something else happen between Charlotte and Carlo? Should I talk to him, do you need me to—”
“No, no, not at all. They look like they’re practically setting up house together already. They’re fine. I’m happy about that, trust me. Carlo’s a good guy.” She waved her hand, wishing she could wave away all the rest of her cluttered thoughts and emotions so easily. In the meantime, until she could unclutter them, life was going to keep happening. Most especially the part of her life with Baxter in it. One thing she did know was that she didn’t want to miss any of it.
He held her gaze for another gauging moment.
“What proposition? I believe I tried doing that upstairs, and basically had to strong arm you into it.” She smiled. “Or was that a strong leg?”
He smiled back and relaxed again. “That might be a subject worthy of discussion. One we could have Sunday. On our flight to LAX.”
“Sunday isn’t going to be any diff—what did you just say? L.A.? California?”
“Last I checked, that’s where they’re keeping it, yes.”
His smile widened and he took her hands in his. “Remember last weekend, I had to go to New York, to do promo for the new season? Well, we already had a few more things slated for this weekend—”
“I didn’t know that. You’re going to leave for the weekend?”
He nodded. “I didn’t purposely not tell you. I think we’ve been focused on getting the taping up and running, and I just didn’t think to mention it. And, before we—” His gaze shifted to the stairs leading up to the second floor of her shop, then back to her. “I guess I didn’t think it was going to be of any real importance to you, beyond the fact that you’d get a break in the production schedule.”
“But—” they said together, and laughed.
“But,” he repeated, “now being gone for two whole days isn’t as acceptable, at least for me, as it was before. I wanted to talk with Rosemary before saying any—”
Her brows climbed. “You told Rosemary? About ... ?”
He chuckled. “I don’t think there was much need to spell it out.”
“What do you mean? How could she—?”
“Well, I didn’t mention it last night because I was ... otherwise distracted.” He flashed a quick grin, which sparked all kinds of thoughts about those exact distractions, which, in turn, did all kinds of unwise things to her libido. He must have seen something in her eyes, because his grip on her hands tightened and his eyes darkened slightly as he started to pull her closer.
She pulled back. “We’re going to be on camera shortly you know.”
“Yes.” He let her ease back, but nothing changed about the look in his eyes, and Lani thought it was going to be a very long day on the set. A long day of trying very, very hard not to look like she wanted to clear the table and have him on it instead of whatever they were baking.
“And, well,” he continued, “that’s the thing, really. You see, we were on camera yesterday, too.”
“I know, but now—”
“Lei, we were already a bit ... obvious about our feelings, even before last night.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The tape from the latter part of the day, the part that was shot after our little ... talk in the kitchen, at lunch. Let me just say Rosemary was fanning herself while she was watching.”
Lani’s mouth dropped open.
“I watched it, too. And ... well, I was thankful I was still wearing my apron. And standing a foot behind her at the time.”
“Baxter!”
He grinned, clearly not at all disturbed. “It wasn’t just the ovens generating some heat, that’s all I’m trying to convey.”
“I got that.” She felt her cheeks flaming up. “And I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
“Well, if you’re worried about how Rosemary feels about it, don’t be. She’s thrilled.”
“First smiling, now thrilled. Are you trying to scare me?”
His grin deepened. “No, I’m trying to reassure you.”
“It’s not working,” she said, but she was fighting a smile, too. Apparently she could stop worrying about how she was going to look on camera, as it was already too late for that. “So, you asked her about taking me to L.A. with you?”
“I don’t have to ask permission for that, but I wasn’t sure if they wanted you here for any of the exterior and island shots they’ll be taping while I’m gone. They want to get the local color to set the scene for the show location. I’ll have to do some spots, too, but I can do that when I get back.”
“Oh, right.” Bernard had mentioned something about that when he’d tried to go over the entire schedule with her, but she hadn’t been willing to think about more than one day—one hour even—at a time, so most had gone in one ear and out the other. “And?”
“And that worked out fine. The part they need you for they can do when they shoot my intros.”
“How long is the trip?”
“We’re flying out early Sunday, back on the red-eye Monday night. We’ll get back here before dawn Tuesday. We aren’t scheduled to tape until one in the afternoon that day. Will you come with me? The schedule will be a bit frantic, but we’ll have some time on the flight out and back. I know Charlotte is here, but—”
“If there’s no prep cooking to be done while you’re gone, and Carlo has the same time off, I’m thinking Charlotte will find something to occupy her time.”
Baxter grinned. “Good. Then you’ll come.”
“Are you sure? I mean, my running around with you will definitely get noticed, won’t it? I know I said I didn’t mind that, and I don’t, but if we spark media attention right off, the paparazzi could show up here before we’re done taping.”
He did pause then. “No, I don’t want to do that to everyone here.”
“Well, to be honest, Alva would be in heaven, and who knows, maybe everyone else would enjoy their fifteen minutes, too. I do know my father wouldn’t be too thrilled, but—”
“We’ll be discreet while traveling to and fro. We don’t need to be a public pair.” He smiled. “We were purely professionals for years. We know how to do that.” He tugged her closer. “I just want you with me. I want your company, Lei, your smile, your laugh.”
“I’d like that.” She didn’t want to lose two full days of their time together, either.
“Brilliant,” he said, his gaze on hers. “Oh, there’s one more thing. Tomorrow night we’re having a viewing party at your little pub.”
“Stewies?”
“I believe that’s the name I heard, yes. We’re screening the premiere of the new season. It actually airs Sunday night on the network, but I’ll be in L.A., so we’re having the party tomorrow night instead. The whole crew will be there, and whoever else is in the tavern at the time.”
“Word gets out and everyone on Sugarberry will try to squeeze in.”
“Possibly, but I hope you’ll come. I know we’ll be putting in a long day first, and you’ll want some time with Charlotte before we take off, so—”
“I’ll make it all work. I’d like to be there.” She smiled up at him. “And, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. For?”
“Understanding. Letting me work my way through this in whatever way feels right at the moment. I know I’m sending out confusing signals, but that’s because it’s confusing to me. This part of it, the public part. I’ll get the hang of it. But, just know, it’s not about you.”
“I was hoping as much.”
The door to the makeup trailer opened and Andrea, the dresser, stuck her head out. “Come on, you two. Rosemary’s yellin’ in my ear. We need to get you into makeup and aprons.”
“Be right there,” Baxter called out; then to Lani, he said, “Whatever you need today, while we’re filming, just let me know, yes? We’re still just us, and we’re good in the kitchen together. We always have been. Let go of the rest. I’ve got this. And I’ve got you. Do you trust me?”
She nodded. “I absolutely do.” She could hear the hint of emotion roughening her voice. “Come on, before I get mushy.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Do you promise to get mushy later?”
She elbowed him, and he laughed as he guided her to the makeup and wardrobe trailer with a hand on the small of her back.
Just think about today,
she told herself.
Just today
.
she told herself.
Just today
.
Maybe if she repeated that often enough, she’d be able to look at him and not think about what it was going to be like when she didn’t have him. When he left for good. And she didn’t leave with him.
Chapter 17
“I
think that’s good,” Charlotte said as she rolled out the dough on Lani’s kitchen counter. “Cross-country trip. Long flight. Very good.”
think that’s good,” Charlotte said as she rolled out the dough on Lani’s kitchen counter. “Cross-country trip. Long flight. Very good.”
“But ... traveling together. All the way to the West Coast and back. I don’t know, Char. Maybe I should have said no. If I stayed here by myself for two days, it would give me a chance to put all this in better perspective. Find some balance to the wild feelings I’m having.”
Charlotte smiled, looking off into space for a moment. “Wild feelings aren’t so bad.”
Lani worked the pastry blender a little harder. “For you, sure. You and Carlo will both be heading back to live in the same city.”
“After he goes on the road with Baxter for two months.” Charlotte sighed. “Two months.”
Lani glanced at her friend. “You know, my panic attacks aside, I meant what I said before. I’m so happy for you. And Carlo. I don’t know how it happened, but I’m glad it did.”
“Me, too.” Charlotte smiled sweetly sincere. “I wasn’t even looking, or thinking about that. Well, I was thinking about sex. I always think about sex. But I came here for you, not sex.”
“For which I am grateful. Both parts.”
“I stopped by Laura Jo’s after I saw you on set yesterday, to pick up something to take back to your place for dinner—you really have nothing here to eat that isn’t made of flour, butter, and sugar—and Carlo was doing the same. We started talking and”—she shrugged, and went back to rolling dough—“things just happened. I have no idea why I didn’t look at him that way before. It’s the only way I can look at him now.”
“You didn’t look at guys like Carlo at all before, that’s why. You looked through them to the guy standing behind, the one who wouldn’t stick around.”
“I know you’re right. Maybe it took coming here, being out of that environment, seeing things out of context, for me to even think about it. If our paths had crossed at some grocer in the city, I know we wouldn’t have struck up a conversation. I don’t operate that way when I’m running errands or working. I just ... I wouldn’t have stopped and noticed him. Much less talked to him.”
“What matters is that you have now.”
“Yes.” Charlotte had that private smile, the one Lani recognized, because she’d had one of her own of late.
A few minutes later, after they’d retreated to their own thoughts for a bit, Charlotte said, “Do you really think, when you’re done taping, that you’re going to be able to just let him walk away?”
Lani paused in the middle of blending the brown sugar and butter. “I don’t have a choice.” She wanted to rub at the tight pinch in her chest, but she went back to grinding instead.
“You always have a choice.”
“We’ve already been over this,” Lani said, a bit wearily. She and Charlotte had talked it through already once this evening, and Lani had already thought it through a thousand times before that.
“I know. I just ... think there should be a way.”
“A long distance relationship isn’t going to work,” Lani said. “For either one of us. We’re too much to settle for that.”
“So, you’ll take your too much-ness and settle for nothing?” Charlotte rolled with a bit more vigor than was absolutely required. “That makes no sense to me. None at all.” Her accent grew sharper the more she rolled the dough.
“I’m just trying to be realistic. It’s a fairy tale right now, while we’re here. But my moving back to New York isn’t going to work for me. Is he just going to give up his entire career and move to Georgia? And do ... what? I mean, Charlotte, trust me, I want there to be a solution. I’m looking forward to every day I’ll have with him and simultaneously dreading every minute that goes by, knowing it puts me one minute closer to the end. That’s what I meant about letting him go to L.A. by himself. I don’t want to lose that time, but maybe it would be smarter to pace ourselves a little. Maybe both of us will cool off a bit, regain a little perspective.”
Charlotte’s snort told her all she needed to know about her opinion on the matter. “I just say that what you do isn’t all of who you are. A large part, yes, but not all. There is more to life, more to happiness. I know, coming from me, that sounds ludicrous. But I’m thinking differently today. Very differently.”
“I know,” Lani said quietly.
“I just think that when you find something special like this, you make compromises, you find a way. Maybe you’ll find that you won’t mind living in the city again, if it means having Baxter in your life.”
“Trying to start up my own place there? Char, I’d have to look out in the boroughs for a place. I don’t have the start-up capital for a place in the city. Not to mention what I have tied up here. I just opened, for God’s sake. Even if I could open up a place right smack in the middle of town, the prospect of doing that there doesn’t excite me, not even a little bit.”
Charlotte looked up. “What about going back to Gateau? You don’t want to run a shop in the city, fine. I understand that. It wouldn’t be anything like what you’re doing here. So, maybe you do something different altogether. Maybe not Gateau, either. Be a private chef. Cater.”
“I don’t think it would work,” Lani said, giving voice to the same conclusion she’d already come to privately. “Not in the long run. Being a pastry chef might not be all I am, but it’s a big part of it. And, now, so is having my own place. My own small, off the beaten path place. I don’t know if I can convert back to city pace. And city clients.”
“Of course you could,” Charlotte said. “But you don’t want to. You want what you already have. I’m just asking, do you want that more than you want Baxter?”
Lani was saved from answering that question by a short knock on her front door. It was early enough that it could be anybody. Except that Baxter was dining with Alva, and Charlotte had opted to therapy bake with her, then meet up with Carlo when Lani went to meet Baxter. And Dre actually had a date herself that night—with a guy who was just a friend, she’d made sure to stipulate. They were attending a signing by a comic book artist in Savannah. “I don’t know who that is,” Lani murmured as she rinsed her hands and wiped them on her apron. “Coming,” she called out, as the rapping repeated.
She opened the door. “Dad? Is everything okay?”
“Of course. Can’t I drop by and see my baby girl?”
“Of course you can, it’s just ... you never come here.”
“Because your shop is close to the station house and you’re always there.”
“Right.” She stepped hastily back. “Come in. Charlotte and I are baking tarts for the viewing party tomorrow night.”
“Good, fine.”
Lani smiled to herself as she stepped back to let him into the house. “You can be our taste tester.”
“Don’t think I’ll be here that long,” he said. “Just stopped by to check in. Make sure things are going okay.”
“That’s ... good.” Lani frowned briefly. Something was up, she just wasn’t sure what. Yet. “I’m fine. Filming today went a lot better than yesterday. I guess you heard about the viewing party tomorrow.”
“I’ve heard. Also heard you were going to Los Angeles. With Chef Dunne.”
Ah. So that’s what this is about.
“I’m thinking about it. Sounded like fun.”
“I’m thinking about it. Sounded like fun.”
Her dad shifted his weight on his feet, and didn’t meet her gaze directly, but was clearly determined despite being obviously uncomfortable. “So, about Dunne ...”
He let that trail off, and Lani knew exactly what he was hoping for. That she’d spell out exactly what was going on between them, so he wouldn’t have to come out and ask. “Dad, if you’re asking if we’ve started to see each other, outside of working on the show, then yes. We have.”
He did meet her gaze then. “And you’re going off to L.A. with him.”
“For two days, yes. Probably. Dad, I am a grown woman. You do know that I—”
“Of course I do,” he said gruffly. “But I also know ...” He trailed off, then sighed deeply, and seemed to regroup. He held her gaze directly. “I know how you felt about him, LeiLei. And I just ... I don’t want you hurt. Does he know? He’s not just thinking you’re ... available?”
Lani didn’t know whether to laugh, or cry. Instead, she impulsively hugged him. After a second of surprise, he hugged her back. Tightly. She didn’t realize how much she’d needed that, until right at that moment. She squeezed back, then let him go. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Dad. He cares about me as much as I care about him.” She blinked away the threat of tears. “He’s taking very good care of me. You’d approve. Okay?”
“Okay.” He looked down at the floor again. “So ... does this mean that when this hoopla is over, you’ll be going back to New York?”
“Oh.” Lani realized he’d been worried about a lot more than just who his daughter might be sleeping with. “Dad, I—no. I don’t think so, no.”
He looked at her again. “You don’t think so.”
She sighed, not sure if he was happy about the prospect of her staying, or dismayed that she wasn’t going to go back to the career she’d had in the city. “No, Dad,” she said quietly. “I don’t.” That was all she was willing to say. All he probably wanted to hear. Whether he liked it or was disappointed wasn’t going to change her answer, so there was no point in prodding.
“Okay then,” he said, after an awkward moment or two of silence. “I’ll, uh, let you get back to your baking then. I’ll see you at the shindig tomorrow.”
“Oh, good, you’ll be there.” She was grateful for the change of subject.
“We’ll want increased presence, in case things get out of hand. Not usual to have all this attention and activity. People do stupid things.”
“True.” She tipped up on her toes and bussed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”
His cheeks turned a bit ruddy. “I don’t know for what. You can take care of yourself.”
Lani smiled, and followed him to the front door. “I can, but I like knowing you’re looking out for me, all the same.”
He nodded, and then he was gone.
Lani closed the door, and pressed her forehead against it.
“He loves you,” Charlotte said.
Lani straightened and turned to find Charlotte standing in the hall that led to the kitchen. “I know. I just ... hate thinking he’s disappointed I’m not having a big career in the city, and I hate thinking he’s worried I’m going to get my heart broken. It’s lose-lose at the moment.”
“He’s a grown man; he can handle himself,” Charlotte said, echoing what Lani had just told her father.
“I know. But I feel like he’s been through enough. He shouldn’t have to worry about me.”
“He’s your father. That’s his job. Come on, we need to get the tart crusts crimped.”
Lani followed her into the kitchen, thankful for the task at hand. “You know, a week ago, everything was fine and dandy in my world. How did that all change so fast?”
The changes seemed to come faster from that point onward. Friday night with Baxter was every bit as wonderful as the previous night. Charlotte had gone off to stay with Carlo, with clear instructions to Lani not to wait up for her. But Lani had opted to meet Baxter over the shop after his dinner with Alva, which he’d recounted in delightful and colorful detail as they’d sipped wine ... and each other. She wasn’t ready to have him in her home, in her bed. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready for that. Memories were one thing, and taped cooking shows, yet another. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to compound all of that by creating memories in the place where she lived. It was enough that they were spending twelve hours a day in her shop kitchen.
To that end, Saturday’s taping had gone quickly and, even by Lani’s standards, pretty damn well. Rather than an awkward obstacle, it seemed her relationship with Baxter had relaxed her in front of the cameras. They laughed easily, the banter between them came quite naturally, and she didn’t feel so self-conscious.
She’d decided she simply wasn’t going to think about what he’d said, about their chemistry or the sexual tension, or whatever it was he claimed they had together on tape. Rosemary was more chipper than Lani thought was humanly possible, and that outweighed everything else. Including the notion that her love affair was being permanently recorded. She’d decided to give herself permission not to think about that either, and had made excuses both times she’d been invited into the production trailer to look at footage.
Baxter had immediately keyed in to her discomfort, but hadn’t pressed her to talk about it, which she appreciated. She didn’t want him to take her lack of attendance as a personal insult, but he hadn’t seemed to. In fact, he’d run interference with Rosemary and gotten her out of the other requests to view tape.
They’d taken their relationship fully public at the viewing party. As Lani had predicted, Stewies had been packed past capacity almost from the start, which had made her father and his deputies a bit irritated as they’d had to turn folks away. In the end, the party had just extended outside, into the street. Baxter had gone out and shaken hands and talked to everyone, then Bernard had saved the day by hooking up a big monitor screen outside Stewies, so the outdoor partiers could watch the show, too. They’d already closed off the part of the square in front of the restaurant to traffic, so it turned into a block party.
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