Chapter 1
Lindsay Somers should have known she was about to be betrayed.
Lauren Fitch, one of her closest friends of almost ten years, sat across from her at Pop, their favorite bar, and said, “Okay, please don’t hate me.”
Lindsay narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”
“So you know how I’ve been wanting to hire a pastry chef for the café?” Lauren was the manager of a Brooklyn-based cat café, not coincidentally just up Whitman Street from Pop.
“You didn’t,” said Lindsay.
“We interviewed five candidates and ate copiously of the sample stuff they made us. And the best candidate not only made delicious pastries for humans to eat, but also baked cat treats that went over so well that the cats followed him around for the rest of the interview as if they were trying to get their next fix.”
“Just say it.”
“Diane made the final decision, not me. In my defense.”
“It’s Brad. I can already tell it’s Brad. Just say, ‘Hi, Lindsay, we hired your ex-boyfriend to work at the cat café.’”
“Hi, Lindsay, we hired your ex-boyfriend to work at the cat café.”
Lindsay groaned and pressed her forehead to the table. “Of course you did.”
“He was the best candidate by a mile.”
Lindsay groaned again and picked up her head. “I’m sure he was. Which begs the question of why he was auditioning to work at a cat café. No offense.”
Lauren grinned. “None taken. He said he’d only ever worked under other people. He wanted creative control over the menu, and I was happy to give it to him.”
“You do know that he cheated on me.”
“Yes, and I hope he rots in hell for it, but that doesn’t affect his baking. The frosting on his cupcakes is… Oh, there are no words. Like eating whipped magic.”
Lindsay knew she was scrunching up her face, but she couldn’t help it. Brad was still a sore spot. Sure, the man could bake—and he could heat up the sheets, too—but that didn’t make him any less of an immature douchebag. And now he’d be working at the cat café? Just having him in the same city was bad enough, but knowing he’d be in a location where Lindsay would be likely to run into him… How could Lauren have done such a thing?
Evan walked into the bar with his boyfriend, Will, and they slid into seats at the table. He looked back and forth between Lindsay and Lauren and narrowed his eyes before realization came over his face.
“You told her!” said Evan.
“I’m not speaking to Lauren anymore,” said Lindsay, crossing her arms in a way she hoped would come off as theatrical. Shewasmad, but she was trying not to let on how much this bothered her.
“Ah, handling the news with the grace and aplomb we expected of you,” said Evan.
“What’s going on?” asked Will.
“Brad Marks, the new pastry chef at the café, used to date Lindsay,” said Evan with a smirk. “Their relationship did not end on good terms, and now Lindsay and Brad are sworn enemies.”
“I don’t know if Brad knows that,” said Lauren. “He asked how you were.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That you were doing well. That you’re writing about food.”
“Oh, great.” This was such a nightmare. “So now he knows I write about food instead of making it.”
“I mean, he could google you to get that information,” said Lauren, glancing at Evan and looking alarmed. “I didn’t know it was a state secret.”
“It’s just so humiliating. I went to culinary school with him. And now he knows I couldn’t cut it as a chef.”
