Page 11 of A Sweet Mess

“Just try this.” She plopped a small white box on Craig’sdesk with a plastic fork on top. “It’s Aubrey’s pretzel bread pudding. It’s better warmed and served with vanilla bean ice cream, but it’s incredible on its own. Just try it.”

It was a pointless exercise, but he didn’t want to upset her again, so he obliged. The moment the pretzel bread pudding hit his tongue, he was enveloped in a perfect harmony of flavors and textures. It wasn’t an explosion of sugar and spice. It was much subtler than that. The familiar flavors of cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla wove through the bread with the added smokiness of the pretzel dough. The salted caramel with the faintest hint of espresso added a modern edge to the classic.

“Damn.” Landon had detected Aubrey’s talent even when it was buried under peanut butter and gummy worms. But this? It was extraordinary.

“What? Is it that good?” Craig forked a big morsel and popped it in his mouth. “Holy shit. I mean, crap. Sorry, Lily.”

It was the most delicious, creative, and masterfully executed bread pudding Landon had ever had. For the first time in a long time, he was at a complete loss. He might have ruined the career of a promising pastry chef with his review. The strange cake deserved his scorn, but Aubrey and Comfort Zone didn’t. But nothing had changed. If he wrote a second review and their fling was discovered, both of their reputations would be shredded.

“You see? She really is an amazing baker and boss.” Lily was practically bouncing up and down in her seat. “You’ll give Comfort Zone another chance, right?”

Landon squeezed the back of his neck and resisted the urge to let loose a parade of profanity in every language he knew.

“Look, Lily. That is one of the best bread puddings I’ve ever tasted.” He held up his hand when the girl opened her mouthto interrupt. “But the situation is more complicated than you think. I can’t bend my policy without my readers questioning my objectivity. Besides, the entire town of Weldon seem to be fans of Comfort Zone. Business will go on as usual soon with my review long forgotten.”

“No.Youdon’t understand. Weldon has a tiny population. The bulk of Comfort Zone’s customers were online or travelers stocking up on their way to the mountains and the lakes. Aubrey was always busy filling online orders on top of running the shop, but I haven’t seen her send anything out since the review.” Lily leaned forward in her chair, gripping the edges of the seat. “The bakery is going out of business because of your review. I think Aubrey spent a whole lotta money on a lease to move Comfort Zone to a bigger location. I don’t know what’s going to happen now, but when I mention the other store, Aubrey just looks sad. And scared.”

Expansion? The kid had to be exaggerating. Could the situation truly be worse than he’d imagined? Landon scowled in frustration, and Lily shrank in her seat.

“You must be exhausted, Lily. It was a long drive from Weldon, right?” Craig led the kid, who was sobbing again, out of his office with a menacing glare at Landon. “Why don’t we order you some food and let you recharge? Our employee rest area is quite comfortable.”

Landon returned to his desk and sat facing the windows, his logic and emotion duking it out with each other. His rational side wanted to walk away from the whole mess—Aubrey, her talent, and her bakery. His human side wanted to write a second review for Comfort Zone. She was so special, and taking her talent away from the world would be a crime.

“Fucking hell.” He raked both his hands through his hair as he crossed the hallway to reach his office. Several coworkerspeeked at him but quickly ducked back to their work when he glowered at them.

He probably looked deranged. The whole situation was a fucking mess. Landon didn’t do messes. He planned, calculated, organized, and exercised iron control over his life. Impulsive dreamers like his dad were the ones who made messes—shitting everywhere they pleased and expecting others to clean up after them. Landon had cleaned up his father’s messes and swore to never be like him. So how had everything gone to hell? It was unacceptable.

His cell phone vibrated, and he ignored the infuriating buzzing until it stopped. When the buzzing resumed not a second later, Landon picked up his phone to throw it out a window, but he answered the call after a glimpse of the caller ID.

“Mio dio,Landon,” Aria said, not bothering with something as mundane ashelloorhow are you?“I just finished a walk-through of our location. They made me wear a hard hat. A putrid, yellow hard hat. Can you believe that?”

“Unbelievable.” Landon rubbed a hand down his face, and his expression relaxed into his resting bitch face. “How dare they protect you from a head injury at a construction site.”

“The construction is crazy, by the way.” His friend didn’t acknowledge his dry response with so much as a snort. “Dust and noiseeverywhere.I’m surprised I didn’t get impaled during my walk-through. But the point is—”

“Yes, Aria. It’ll be great if you can get to the point.”

“Shut up. If you don’t behave, I’m going to start all over.”

Landon sighed, both amused and exasperated. “Do you like it or not?”

“I love it. It is perfection.” Her Italian accent, which was nothing more than a melodic lilt in her voice, grew a shade thicker when she was emotional. “I can’t wait to start filming.”

“That’s fantastic,” he said with a genuine smile. Aria had a keen eye for television, which was one of the reasons she rose to the highest ranks of celebrity chefdom. If she approved of the location for her wine country special, then it meant her audience would love it. “I’m glad you like it.”

But his happiness for his friend reminded him of another talented chef who might never get a chance to shine. An image of Aubrey, sitting in a dark, empty bakery, flashed through his mind, and his stomach lurched.For God’s sake, Kim. She’s not destitute.

“What’s going on?” A new sharpness entered Aria’s voice. “Tell me before you break down and wail like a baby.”

In another lifetime, he and Aria had interned at a world-renowned kitchen in Madrid—a wonderland of gastronomical research and food science. Each of them, something of a prodigy in their respective culinary institutions, had tied for first in an international cooking competition. The coveted three-month summer internship was extended to both of them. They worked grueling hours, gluttonously absorbed everything their brains could contain, and became rivals and then friends without conscious effort.

Considering their long friendship and Aria’s uncanny ability to read people, there was no point pretending nothing was wrong.

“Have you read my last review? ‘The Pitfalls of Brilliance’?”

“The one about your near-death experience from a gummy worm?”

“Yes, that one. Well, it turns out they’d accidentally served a special-order cake to me. It was meant for a six-year-old girl’s birthday party.”

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