Page 41 of Barging In
Clem gave a firm nod and backed away, hands tucked in her pockets. “See you then.”
“And thanks for the cake,” Victoria called after her. “Can’t wait to dig in.”
With a wink, Clem turned and strode across the courtyard towards the bridge.
Victoria leaned against her car for balance, feeling like all the blood in her body had rushed to her head. Heat rushed under her skin as her knees threatened to give way. Damn the woman for making her feel like this. It wasn’t helpful. She didn’t need to be having knee-weakening feelings — not now, not ever. She’d put herself out to pasture a long time ago, and she wasn’t looking to rejoin the herd. She’d moved on from all that.
With Clem out of sight, Victoria checked her watch. It was late. She needed dinner and her bed. Without Christine, she’d be stuck doing all the food prep for the party herself. Poor Emma would have to manage the café alone. Even with lunches off the menu, thanks to staff shortages, it was still a lot to ask of her.
Victoria got in the car and drove home. As the road wended before her, her thoughts immediately fell back to Clem. The woman made her laugh, and in her company, Victoria felt lighter, as though some of the weight she’d grown used to carrying was beginning to lift. It was a strange feeling, considering Clem’s presence was also part of what made everything feel so heavy.
Still, she hoped they’d find a way through. If they could work together, they might even find a way to make both of their businesses thrive. If she made some tweaks to the café and they could agree on some operational boundaries, they would have no reason to be anything but neighbourly.
As for the odd feelings Clem stirred in her… Well, Victoria decided she needed to get a grip. She was married and would remain so, if only for the sake of the business. Unlike her husband, she wouldn’t stray from a contract. Not even at the wink of a beautiful woman.
CHAPTER 12
Clem surveyed the ingredients laid out across the stainless steel worktop in the wharf’s kitchen. There was a lot to get through in a few hours, even less time than planned thanks to Victoria running late. With two cups of coffee inside her, though, Clem felt up to the task.
She’d politely declined Victoria’s offer to assist; the half-covered yawns and heavy-lidded eyes suggested she’d be more of a hindrance than a help. So Victoria headed off to her office, giving Clem space to focus on the task ahead, without distractions. Because that’s exactly what Victoria was: a distraction. Clem still couldn’t believe she’d winked at her the previous afternoon. It had just happened, in an instinctive, automatic way. She’d briefly caught her reaction and could’ve sworn she saw Victoria leaning against the car as if her legs had stopped cooperating. Perhaps she had stumbled, though, or was simply tired from her stressful day. What else could it be?
Clem opened a bag of flour and began weighing it. Victoria’s words — that she needed the ‘best’ —unhelpfully drifted into her mind. Clem smiled as she closed the bag, the words dancing inside her. Of all the compliments she’d received about her cakes, this one felt different, more personal and therefore more poignant.
She’d even come out to Victoria, and after a brief ‘Oh’, the conversation had moved on. There wasn’t a flicker of awkwardness. It clearly hadn’t bothered her. And why would it? Victoria didn’t strike her as ignorant or narrow-minded; she appeared to be open and educated.
Having mixed the batter and distributed it evenly in the cake tins she’d brought with her,Clem left the Victoria sponges to bake. She mixed the ingredients for scones by hand with the lightest of touches; no one would want them dry and airless. Once they were in the large oven, she left the sponges to cool, turning her attention next to a banana loaf and a cherry Madeira. Florence needed supplies for the day’s trading, and both were quick and reliable options. As they baked and the scones cooled, Clem whipped cream in an industrial-sized whisker, giving the machine an envious eye as she did.
The whole kitchen stirred jealousy inside her. It offered so much open, flexible working space compared to Florence’s cramped galley, and there was little chance of knocking into anything. The machinery was second to none as well, the oven being triple the size of her own. Being able to mix all the batter at once saved a significant amount of time. She could far too easily get used to this.
Pleased with her productivity, Clem found it was soon time to track down Victoria. She left the kitchen and headed to the office, where she found the door ajar. Poking her head around it, she spotted Victoria curled up on a sofa in the corner, fast asleep.
Clem hesitated, not wanting to disturb her but knowing she must. Victoria’s gentle breathing and theslow rise and fall of her shoulder made her look so peaceful. Clem stepped closer. A stray strand of hair had fallen across Victoria’s face, adding to her quiet charm.
Crouching beside her, Clem brushed it from her cheek. “Victoria,” she whispered.
Victoria’s eyelids fluttered until her blue eyes finally settled on Clem with a smile.
“Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you, but?—”
“No. No, it’s fine,” Victoria replied, getting up so quickly Clem was sure the blood would rush from her head. “I could’ve slept for a week, so I’m grateful you did. I’ve got a lot to do today.”
“I need to know where you want everything stored.”
“You’ve made everything already?”
“Yes,” Clem said, taking the slight tone of surprise in Victoria’s tone as a compliment. “Come and see.”
She held the door open for her, admiring just how shapely her figure was cut in the cute, navy, corduroy pinafore dress. How did she miss that earlier this morning? As she passed, the air stirred, and Clem caught a pleasant scent of jasmine that she now associated with Victoria. It had lingered in the close confines of the Jag.
As they arrived in the kitchen, Victoria’s face lit up at the sight of the cakes.
“Oh, my. These look wonderful.” Turning to the scones, she added, “And these — they’re so small and cute!”
“Intentionally so,” Clem replied. “Scones aren’t the easiest to eat while chatting at a party, so I figured bite-sized might be preferable. With cake on offer, too, not everyone will want a big one. Those who do can have two. I’ve made plenty.”
“Brilliant,” Victoria said, turning around, her hands clasped in front of her. “You’re brilliant. I wouldn’t have thought of that. Thank you for all this.”
Clem’s cheeks warmed at the praise.
