Page 90 of Loverboy
Back in the kitchen, I feel chastened. I’m great with details, and I’ve always studied to get an A. The poor inspection feels like a personal failure.
I make two of the world’s most beautiful meringue pies, each one with a crust that won’t be soggy, a filling that will hit the tongue with a bright burst of sweetened acidity, and a fluffy cloud of toasted meringue on top. But it’s a hollow victory. I need someone to give me a hug. Someone who knows I’m better than a C-grade human.
I need Gunnar, damn it. Where is that guy? Teagan tells me he stepped out to run an errand.
Finally—when it’s almost closing time—I hear his voice in the cafe. And something lifts inside me. I forget all about the stupid inspection, and I wonder whether he’d like to go out for a sushi dinner tonight.
I wash my hands and check the mirror, just to be sure I don’t have blobs of lemon curd on my apron. And then I step out to greet him.
Gunnar has his back to me, just like the first time I saw him in my shop. This time, though, I’m more intimately familiar with the muscular butt in those jeans. And the strength and passion in those hands that he’s using to tape a new sign to the front door.
“Hey, Gunn,” I say, leaning against the doorframe. “What’s with the new sign?”
“Posy.” He turns around abruptly. “I didn’t see you there.” His handsome face is sheepish.
Uh oh, my subconscious says.
I step closer so I can read the sign.Barista needed immediately. Signing bonus offered.
“Signing bonus. What the heck is that all about?”
“I thought it would help. I’ll foot the bill for a qualified candidate to get a thousand bucks for agreeing to start right away. What do you think?”
I think I’ve never gotten angry so quickly in my life. “That’s not your call, is it?” I bark.
“Well, no.” He winces. “I was trying to solve our problem.”
“Ourproblem,” I echo. “You mean my problem. The one I have with unreliable men? Is this it for you? Just like that? Poof, and I’m down an employee?”
His sheepish face tells me all I need to know.
“I see. You’ve had your fun here. Does that mean you were successful with—” I stop myself before asking if he’d identified the killer. He won’t be able to say so out loud, not in front of the last two customers who are still enjoying my WiFi connection even though their cups are empty and their pie plates contain nothing but crumbs.
“Just so you know, I’m going to lean on Teagan for some more hours. And I can work tomorrow,” he says. “Until noon.”
“Until noon.” Does he meanonlytomorrow until noon? Another glance at his guilty face confirms that it’s true. “I see.” And damn it, I do see. It was always going to happen like this. Why did I not understand that?
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I feel terrible about leaving you in the lurch.”
“Right.” I swallow hard. “Of course you do.” Why do I feel so crushed? It’s not just the barista job, either. Gunnar means a whole lot more to me than coffee. And now he’s done? With me, too?
I shouldn’t leap to conclusions. “Listen, what if we got some sushi tonight and did a little brainstorming about the new hire?”
“We’ll definitely have that conversation.” He frowns. “Tonight isn’t good for me, though.”
“Oh,” I say quietly. “I see.”
One of those lingering customers clicks his laptop shut and prepares to depart. Needing something to do with my hands, I hustle over there and take his cup and plate off the table. “Thanks for coming in,” I say cheerfully, although I’m dying inside.
Is this really it? I thought Gunnar’s time in my shop would telegraph its ending. That there’d be a big moment of clarity when he and Max sorted out their mystery and celebrated its conclusion.
But I guess I’m not privy to that part. Gunnar is going to disappear as quickly as he arrived—from my shop, and from my bed. And it’s abundantly clear that I’m going to be far more upset about it than he is.
I carry those dishes swiftly out of the room. “Flip the sign, Jerry!” I call out. “I’ll wash these last couple of things.”
“Okay, Posy!” He gives me a big smile.
I turn on the water with a blast into the metal sink, and it’s loud enough to cover the sound of my unhappy sigh. I hose the coffee dregs out of the cup like it’s the most important thing in the world. Then I grab the soapy sponge and scrub.
