Page 62 of Ablaze

I roll my eyes, chuckling under my breath. “Thanks, Betty.”

You’d think with the way she states it, she’s reporting back on some mission to find the marital status of every man who walks into the café.

Ever since Warren and I broke up, Betty has taken it upon herself to find me a boyfriend. She doesn’t make it a secret that she really wants that boyfriend to be Dean, but I’ve always hand-waved over it whenever she tries to start that particular conversation.

Because he’s not interested in me like that, and the sooner she comes to terms with that, the better it’ll be for the both of us. Because a mirage in the desert never brought anyone to water.

It’s for the same reason I haven’t told her about Dean and Jessie’s breakup. Because the moment I do, Betty will get that mischievous and hopeful look in her eyes and start planning our wedding. I know because I’ve seen her do it every time they’ve broken up.

I smile to myself, thinking of how ludicrous the idea even is. I’m not in denial of pining for my best friend, but even I have my limits.

The guy was dating the same woman for years and never asked her to move in, he’s explicitly stated marriage isn’t even in his dictionary, let alone his periphery, and he still thinks of me as nothing more than a good friend.

So, pining? Sure. I don’t think I’ll ever stop having thoughts about Dean. Dirty, filthy, outright obscene thoughts that have me finding my wet center with my fingers in the middle of the night, wishing they were his.

But marriage? If I don’t stop myself, I’ll burst out laughing at the sheer absurdity of it.

A few minutes later, I find the man Betty referred to looking out the window to the backyard. With a smile on his face and a coffee cup in his hand, he seems to be in his own thoughts.

As if feeling my presence, he turns toward me a moment later. “Mala Sharma?” He reaches out his hand to take mine. “I’m Jason Bourne.”

I try not to giggle at his name, giving him a genuine smile instead. “Glad to meet you. How can I help you, Jason?”

Jason’s wide blue gaze assesses me. He’s wearing a blue suit without a tie, the top button of his shirt undone. “Glad you asked. I have an offer for you, actually, and wanted to chat.”

“Okay . . .” I state hesitantly. I point at an open table and two chairs away from another customer, who is enjoying his coffee alongside his pooch, sitting with his eyes glued to his owner and his tail wagging. “Would you like to sit down?”

“Yes, that would be great.” Jason takes a sip of his coffee after we both take a seat. “Mala, I run the gourmet pet treats division for Doggone Happy and Healthy.”

My brows rise. Holy shit! This guy runs the entire pet treats division for one of the most sought-after companies in the nation? The company I applied to so many times after college?

Over the years, I stopped looking into open positions at the company, of course, with everything I had on my plate with the café. But I can’t deny a part of me still wonders from time to time what it would have been like to work for them had I gotten a job there.

In fact, when I had an opportunity to fulfill a rather large custom order for our popular pumpkin and sunflower seed dog treats from them recently, I jumped on it, rounding up all the help I could.

“Wow,” I stammer, hoping I don’t sound like a star-struck schoolgirl. “Welcome to Doggy Bag Café! I hope the pumpkin treats worked out for you guys last month.”

“Thank you.” Jason smiles, putting his cup on the table before leaning back and placing his foot on his knee. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. The treats were a huge success for a taste test we conducted, and when my team told me where they were from and how you ran this operation on your own–”

Betty clears her throat notably while cleaning a table near us with a damp rag, getting both mine and Jason’s attention. After having worked with her for years, I’m no longer surprised by her perceptive hearing and observation. The woman is as sharp as a tack, even at her age.

I laugh softly. “I haven’t done all of this on my own. Betty has been working with me for several years and has been one of the biggest reasons I’ve been able to take on more.”

I don’t mention it, but recently Samantha, my sister-in-law, has been helping me as well. With the toll it took to raise my nephew with two busy firefighter schedules, Samantha decided to take some time off from working full-time. She now splits her time volunteering at the station and my café when Rohan is home with Sage. She’s been a boon for Betty and me since she’s an excellent baker as well.

“Right, of course.” Jason chuckles, nodding at Betty before she strolls away. “But it got me thinking . . . We have an opening on my team to head up the operations of our new gourmet dog treats department.” He holds my gaze. “And I’d like you to take it.”

I reel back, putting a finger on my chest. “Me? You want me to head up your multi-gazillion dollar treats department?”

Holy shitballs and milk!

Betty coughs somewhere near the café counter, clearly still eavesdropping.

Jason’s eyes twinkle. “It’s a few dollars shy of multi-gazillion at the moment, but essentially, yes. You’d get to hire your own team, structure it the way you want–”

I lean forward with my eyes wide. “I’m sorry. You must have the wrong person, Mr. Bourne. As much as it was a dream of mine to work for Doggone for many years, I’d only applied for individual contributor roles, not the head of a large division. Plus, I haven’t worked in a corporate setting before; I don’t know the first thing about town hall meetings and PowerPoint presentations.” I look down at my sweatshirt that says, I like big mutts and I cannot lie. “Or proper corporate attire.”

Jason sits back on his chair, watching me without argument–gauging, assessing, judging. A lot like I’d expect an assassin trained by the CIA to do now that I think about it. His calm demeanor unnerves me, given that my nerves seem to be rattled at the moment.

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