Page 6 of Spicy or Sweet
I gesture for Noelle to order first, and she purses her lips, like she’s pissed at the politeness.
“I’ll do a gingerbread latte, extra cinnamon, please.”
“And a hazelnut mocha for me—extra cream,” I say. Bianca scribbles down our orders.
“Just a heads up, Mayor Blackwood is joining us,” Noelle chimes in, and Bianca’s face falls.
“Ugh. Thanks for the warning. I’ll have your drinks out in a sec.”
I’m not familiar with the mayor, but that reaction doesn’t fill me with confidence. “I don’t know Mayor Blackwood—should I be worried?” I ask Noelle, and she shrugs.
“She’s fine, just intense. And she’s not my biggest fan.”
It’s not like Noelle to be forthcoming with anything personal—not to me, anyway—and I pounce on it.
“How come?”
Noelle seems to realize she’s made a misstep, and it’s possible I sound a little too enthusiastic about having anin. I can’t help it; I want Noelle to like me. She seems so fun, and her baking is amazing. Wintermore is friendly, if a little distant, with newcomers, and I don’t have any real friends here. So, naturally, the one friend I’d like is the one person who seems to actively dislike me.
“I dated her daughter in high school,” Noelle answers, crossing her arms. “It didn’t end badly or anything—we just went to different colleges and drifted apart—but I don’t think Mayor Blackwood was ever really on board with her daughter dating a woman. Also, everyone wanted my mom to run for mayor, and the only reason Mayor Blackwood won is because my mom didn’t run.”
“I would’ve voted for your mom,” I say, and she hums her agreement.
“Everyone would’ve voted for my mom.”
Noelle’s parents are the best of Wintermore—kind and welcoming, Christmas-obsessed, and their family toy store is a huge boost to the town’s economy.
Bianca drops our drinks off, and I check the time on my phone.
“She’s always late,” Noelle says, of the mayor. “But god forbid you’re ever late to see her.”
Excellent. I love sitting here trying to find something to talk about with someone who doesn’t want to talk to me.
Noelle is silent, toying with a sugar packet, looking everywhere but at me. It takes everything in me not to fill the silence.
I grew up in a loud house. I’m a triplet, and my mom ran a daycare, so it was never quiet. It was happy and busy and chaotic. Until it wasn’t, and silence reminds me ofafter, so I do my best to avoid it. When I’m working alone in the kitchen, I always have something on—music, a podcast, an audiobook, The Food Network.
“Do you—” I begin, but Noelle interrupts me.
“My niece swiped yes on you on Locked.”
It takes me a second to process what she’s said. “Locked… the dating app? Isn’t your niece a baby?”
“Yes. She grabbed my phone,” Noelle replies. “Rora—you know Rora, right?” I nod. “She signed me up for the app, and your profile was the first to show up. Sunny grabbed for my phone and, you know.”
It’s clear that Noelle would not have swiped yes, and I wouldn’t expect her to. I have to be a good fifteen years older than her, and she hates me.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t have noticed. I haven’t opened Locked in years. I don’t even know if I still have the app downloaded.”
Noelle leans forward a fraction, like I’ve piqued her interest.
“Why? Is there something wrong with it?”
“Not really. It’s just mostly tourists, and I don’t think I’m a casual dating person.”
“You don’t think?” Noelle asks, and while I don’t particularly want to get into my dating history, this is the most interested she’s ever seemed in me.
“I got divorced just before I moved here, and I haven’t really tried dating since. Definitely nothing casual. Maybe I’d like it, but I don’t know… Who has the time?” I’ve struck a decent work-life balance since opening the patisserie, but I value my free time too much to spend it pretending to be interested in strangers and exchanging mediocre orgasms. Maybe that’s cynical of me, but I haven’t had truly good sex since college.
