Page 4 of Window Seat for Two
Her fingers flew across her screen before she turned the phone toward Nate, displaying a photo that made his breath catch. The image showed a man kneading dough behind what was clearly Blue Moon Bakery's counter, his dark hair slightly mussed and flour dusting his forearms. His expression was serious, focused on his work, but there was something compelling about the intensity in his dark eyes and the careful precision of his movements.
"This is who's actually been seeing your waves," Maya said. "Ari Volkov, Sofia's nephew. He inherited the bakery when she passed a few months ago."
Nate stared at the photo, feeling an unexpected flutter of interest that had nothing to do with embarrassment. This man looked nothing like Jamie—where Jamie radiated easy warmth and accessibility, Ari appeared guarded, complex, maybe even a little dangerous in the way that suggested hidden depths rather than actual threat.
"He waved back yesterday?" Jamie asked, genuine surprise in his voice. "Ari doesn't really do friendly gestures. At least, not since Sofia's funeral."
"He's been through a lot," Maya added, her tone softening. "Losing Sofia was hard on everyone, but especially him. She basically raised him after his parents died, and now he's trying to keep the bakery going on his own while dealing with grief and money problems and—" She caught herself, apparently remembering that Nate was essentially a stranger. "Well, let's just say he's had better months."
Nate glanced toward the café window, following the sightline to Blue Moon Bakery across the narrow street. Through the bakery's large front windows, he could make out a tall figure moving behind the counter, and his heart did something complicated in his chest. Had he really been so fixated on his imagined connection with Jamie that he'd never properly looked at the person who could actually see him?
"So when you say he doesn't do friendly gestures," Nate said carefully, still studying Ari's photo, "does that mean yesterday was unusual?"
"Unusual doesn't begin to cover it," Jamie replied. "Ari's brilliant with bread—Sofia taught him everything she knew, and he's got instincts you can't teach. But with people?" He shruggedapologetically. "Let's just say customers don't go to Blue Moon for the sparkling conversation."
"He's not mean," Maya clarified quickly. "Just... prickly. Keeps to himself, especially since Marcus left."
"Marcus?"
"Ex-boyfriend," Jamie explained. "Real piece of work, from what I heard. Left about a month after Sofia died, said something about Ari lacking ambition. Because apparently inheriting a struggling bakery and working eighteen-hour days to keep it afloat doesn't count as ambitious enough for some people."
Nate felt an unexpected surge of protectiveness toward someone he'd never actually met. The idea of abandoning someone during grief seemed particularly cruel, and the timing made it even worse.
"So if he waved back yesterday," Nate said slowly, processing this new information, "that was probably a bigger deal than I realized."
"Probably," Maya agreed. "I can't remember the last time I saw him initiate any kind of social interaction. He's polite when people talk to him, but he doesn't exactly encourage it."
Jamie started the espresso machine, the familiar hiss and gurgle filling a brief silence. "You know what? This whole mix-up is actually kind of perfect. You get to start over with the right person, and maybe Ari gets to remember that not everyone in the world is going to disappoint him."
"Assuming he wants to be waved at by a stranger," Nate pointed out, though he was still looking at the photo with growing fascination. Something about Ari's expression suggested layers—the kind of complexity that made for interesting conversations and unexpected discoveries.
"Only one way to find out," Maya said with a grin that suggested she enjoyed playing matchmaker. "But fair warning—Ari's not exactly the easy, breezy type. If you're looking for simple and uncomplicated, Jamie here is definitely more your speed."
"Hey," Jamie protested mildly, but he was smiling. "I can be complicated."
"You put smiley faces in foam art," Maya pointed out. "You're about as complicated as a golden retriever."
Despite his lingering embarrassment, Nate couldn't help but smile. There was something appealing about the easy banter between Maya and Jamie, the kind of comfortable friendship that suggested this place might become a regular stop even without romantic motivations.
"So what's the verdict?" Maya asked, slipping her phone back into her pocket. "Stick with your original plan and ask Jamie here for coffee, or are you curious about the mysterious baker who finally waved back?"
Nate found himself glancing toward Blue Moon Bakery again. Through the window, Ari was visible in profile, working with the kind of focused intensity that spoke to real craftsmanship. There was something compelling about watching someone completely absorbed in their work, especially work that required both strength and delicacy.
"I think," Nate said slowly, "I should probably apologize for months of inadvertent stalking behavior and see what happens from there."
"That's very mature of you," Jamie said, pulling a shot of espresso with practiced precision. "And this is on the house, for emotional distress."
"You don't have to?—"
"Trust me, after that story, you've earned it. Besides, Maya photographed my latte art for her Instagram last week, so I owe her a favor, and she clearly wants to see how this plays out."
Maya didn't deny it, just grinned and started wiping down the counter with suspicious enthusiasm.
Nate accepted the coffee gratefully, inhaling the rich aroma and using the familiar comfort of caffeine as an anchor while his mind raced. The morning hadn't gone at all as planned, but somehow he felt more excited about the prospect of talking to Ari than he had about his imagined conversation with Jamie. Maybe it was the challenge of it, or maybe it was simply the relief of finally understanding what had actually been happening across the street.
"Any advice for approaching the prickly baker?" he asked as Jamie handed him a sleeve for his cup.
"Be genuine," Maya suggested. "Ari's got excellent instincts for people trying to bullshit him, but he responds to honesty."
