But she could be objective. Right?
“All right. I’ll call my friend and set it up.” She hoped she sounded sufficiently excited about the story.
When Erica went back to her office, Lindsay grabbed her cell phone and went to an empty conference room to call Lauren.
After Lindsay explained the assignment, Lauren said, “This is perfect.”
“What? Perfect? What are you talking about?”
“It’s great publicity for the café, first of all. Somewhere Paige is having a tiny orgasm because we’re able to line this up. An article in theForumwill for sure bring in a lot more customers.”
Lindsay laughed because that was likely true. One of Paige’s main jobs was to bring new people to the café. She mostly did this with events, but she loved good publicity.
“Second, I feel like maybe you and Brad should have a conversation. I’m not saying you have to like him, but I am saying it might make everything easier if you reached some kind of truce.”
“Is he there right now?”
“No, he went home for the day. He’s usually only here in the mornings, actually. So you should come by, say, tomorrow morning. After the rush. Around eleven, let’s say.”
“You really think I should talk to him?”
“You’re still allowed to hate him. But he’s very good at this job, and the customers love him. And, oh my god, he made these cinnamon rolls the other day? So good. Melted in my mouth. I’ve had dreams about them ever since.”
“He’s already bribed you with baked goods, hasn’t he? Don’t do this to me, Lauren. This is going to be hard enough. I need you on my team.”
“And I am now and forever Team Lindsay. I’m not gonna fire him, because he’s very good for business, but if you need me to kick him in the nuts or something, I’m your woman.”
“Okay.” Lindsay sighed. She was going to have to face him sooner or later. “Fine. I’ll come by in the morning.”
“Doesn’t have to be at eleven. He usually clocks out around one.”
“Understood.”
“Good. Cool. I’ll save you a cupcake.”
***
Brad decided to hang out in the cat room when he finished baking for the day. He had a book he figured he’d read while he waited for Lindsay to show up, but he was too wound up to read it. A little gray cat with black stripes and a white face hopped up on the table and sniffed the book before lying on it. Then Sadie walked over and tapped his leg with her paw, so he leaned down to pet her.
“You cats are demanding sometimes.” Brad eyed the little gray cat, suspecting that sitting on the book was a way to capture his attention.
Sadie did not seem offended, but instead started purring and rubbing against his leg. So now, apparently, it was a contest between these two cats to out-cute each other. The gray cat gave him the cute-kitty eyes and rested her chin on her paw as she gazed up at him. Sadie purred louder. The gray cat lifted her paw as if to say,Hey, over here. Sadie flopped onto her side and then showed Brad her belly. Unable to choose, Brad gave both cats little scritches on their heads and then shooed the gray cat off his book so he could go back to pretending to read. The gray cat huffed off, but Sadie kept rubbing on his leg.
Brad sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.
That last time he’d seen Lindsay had been by coincidence at a restaurant opening. He was there because he was friendly with the executive chef, and she was there because she was covering it forEat Out New York. They’d had part of a civil conversation before it dissolved into acrimony.
He of course knew why she was mad. She’d seen him with Phoebe, another friend of theirs from culinary school. Phoebe had been pursuing Brad hard, although Brad hadn’t been interested. She’d come on to him one night, Lindsay had walked into the room, and then the relationships between all three of them had imploded. Lindsay had assumed the worst and wouldn’t listen to Brad’s explanations—he suspected she’d deleted most of his texts and voicemails without reading or listening to them—and that was the end of that.
And while Brad had spent months wishing Lindsay would just talk to him so he could explain, part of him also felt that if she’d been so quick to assume the worst of him, then she’d never known him at all. If she was too stubborn to see the truth, their relationship was doomed anyway.
But, man, what a good run they’d had. Lindsay was gorgeous and funny, and they could talk about food for hours. He loved her dry sense of humor, her creativity, and the way she cared about her friends. They’d had a lot of fun together, both in and out of bed, for just over a year. He hadn’t had his life together enough in those days to be contemplating the long term—he’d wanted to wait until he had an established career before making any decisions—but he’d been happy. He’d thought she was happy, too.
She appeared at the door to the cat room looking much as she had the last time he’d seen her. Her dark hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she wore jeans with a button-down shirt and a purple scarf draped around her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, but he knew they must be nearby. She looked like a journalist. A sexy journalist. He felt hooked right to her, the same way he had been when they first met. His heart pounded as he watched her look around the room and make eye contact with him.
Their whole relationship played out in an instant, images of them talking or cooking or making love flashing through his mind.
“Hi,” he said, pushing that aside. He closed the book he wasn’t reading and sat up in his chair to give her his full attention.
