CHAPTER FIVE
Drew
I spent a restless afternoon at the charity tea. I had come because it seemed like a good way to get to know people in the town and my uncle would have said that getting to know the people was like an investment. Then again, he said that about a lot of things.
I think he doesn't think about anything without framing it in terms of commerce and cash.
“Mr. Liston?”
“Yes?” I turned to face the polite inquiry behind me.
“You gave an interesting speech on Wednesday. I wanted to ask you about...”
As the man detailed what he wanted to know from me – a fairly straightforward question about out policy for the Safetrans initiative – I found myself feeling restless.
I want to get to the table and try one of those scones.
There was something compelling – and yes, sexy – about sampling her baking. I couldn't quite believe that I never had. Somehow, the thought of sinking my teeth into those sweet fragrant morsels made me wish I was sinking my teeth into something else. Like somewhere between her soft, pale thighs.
I shivered and tried to blank out the memories of Allie. Especially the ones of her without clothes. Especially the ones of her without clothes on my bed. I choked. Arousal tends to do that to me; close my throat up.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I managed to wheeze. The town mayor was giving me an odd look. “Sorry,” I added. “Didn't mean to alarm. Throat just closed up. Does that,” I added, coughing and accepting a glass of water from an usher who gave me a worried frown.
“Good,” the mayor looked relieved. “I mean, good that it's not serious,” he added gravely.
“Not at all,” I murmured. I cleared my throat, my voice coming back to me.
“It's a good tea, yes?” he commented. “A great turnout.”
“It is,” I nodded. “Very good indeed.”
We stood exchanging pleasantries while my mind was completely elsewhere. I was fighting to think of something – anything – other than Allie. We were progressing up to the counter now and I reached for a cupcake, unable to resist.
“These look good,” the mayor said approvingly.
“They do,” I nodded. I had an idea. As my mouth opened and consumed a vast bite of the delicious, sweet creation, I realized something. Someone here would know the name of the business.
“These are good,” he nodded.
“Mm,” I commented. I was still chewing, my eyes closed. The sweetness and chocolate flavoring were making me think, in the best way, of Allie. The way it felt to lie on her. The way her body pressed up into mine. The sweet softness of her ass-cheeks, plump and firm, in my hands.
“I should find out who ordered these,” the mayor nodded.
“You should,” I said stiffly, swallowing hard, my throat closing with the sugary sweetness.
“I'll ask the usher. Hello?”
“Yes, sir?” the usher said with a deferential inclining of the head.
“I wonder if you could tell me...where do these come from?” he asked, indicating the tray with the peach-and-white cupcakes on.
“Dunno, sir.” The usher scratched his head, frankly. “I'll ask Carla for you, sir.” He indicated a woman in the corner by the amplifiers, whom I recognized as the woman Allie had spoken with earlier.
“Don't worry about it,” the mayor said grandly. “It's not important. Just that they're very good.”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “They are.”
I waited until we'd finished chatting about trivial things and then I headed over to Carla. I had to know about Allie's business. If nothing else, I thought mischievously, I could sample more baking she'd done while I was there.
“Uh, excuse me?” I said to Carla.
“Um. Hi, sir,” she said cautiously. “Can I help?”
“I hope so,” I said with my most ingratiating smile. “The bakery that made those...um...the cupcakes. What's the name of it?”
“Sugarlips,” she said, then blushed. “I mean, that's the name of the bakery. The Sugarlips bakery.”
Sugarlips.
Just the name made my loins struggle. I thought of Allie and those sweet red lips, the ones I wanted to push my tongue into and plunge into her mouth... As my mind took flight I abruptly remembered where I was.
“Thanks,” I said, coughing awkwardly. “It's very good.”
“Yes,” she nodded, giving me an odd look. “I know. I found them earlier this month and decided I had to order something... even in a town like this, they're good.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “They are.”
I chatted a bit and headed off to the refreshments table again, tempted to take another pass at the cupcakes. I chuckled to myself. I looked down at my watch. It was five P.M. I wondered if there was any chance of her being at work now.
The party was starting to thin out and I considered excusing myself early. I went to look for the mayor and checked my phone as I did so.
By the time I'd excused myself and was heading out to my car I'd found the bakery on Google and was ready to head down there.
“A friendly and stylish bakery just at the edge of the business district,” I read aloud from the description on her small website. I smiled to myself. Friendly and stylish. Sounded about right.
I put my foot on the gas and headed onto the main road. The traffic was getting heavy and I started to worry that I wouldn't get there on time. The closing-time was six, but would she still be at the business when I arrived?
Even if she wasn't, at least I'd have seen it. Somehow, I couldn't help the fact that I was curious. If the things she brought for the tea were anything to go on she was really, very good. And I wanted to know what she'd done with her life.
I don't even know if she's married now.
The thought struck me as hard as a blow might have done. I hadn't actually considered it. Which was ridiculous, thinking about it. I mean, I'm thirty-five. If she's not married now I'll really be surprised.
Who wouldn't marry her, after all? She was a great person, a stunning woman and resourceful and talented and...
Who wouldn't marry her, except you? You numbskull. You could have had everything... coward.
I was so busy berating myself that I only noticed the lights had changed when the driver behind me honked impatiently.
“Okay, okay... I'm just going,” I said under my breath. I put my foot on the gas and headed off, following my instructions from my GPS.
“Destination will be on your right. Like hell it will. My right?”
I was swearing at the GPS, a sure sign I was nervous. I looked out of the right-most window, drawing in a deep breath to compose myself. My eyes fell on a peach sign with black and white letters, decorated with black and white polka-dots. A big stylized pair of lips with little flecks of white adorned the sign on the left: the logo.
Sugarlips Cafe and Pastry Shop.
“Here we are.”
I drove round the block to find parking and then hastened up the street. It had started to rain during the drive and the sidewalks were slippery with damp. I almost slipped once and straightened myself, heading round the corner.
I stopped at the vast glass window. It was closed.
I felt a sudden stab of sadness. I don't know what I had expected – maybe they would just by some weird off-chance be open late today? It was twenty-five minutes past six and they were shut.
“Oh. Well.”
I looked around. I could see tables and chairs through the window, a pretty sign with a nice quote on it in retro-style lettering, pink and white curtains. It was all pretty and stylish, just like the description on the web expressed.
I just wish it was open.
I looked on the outside for a phone-number, but there was only a web address and an email for reservations. I took note of it anyway, not sure what I could do to get in touch with her with the limited information I had.
I can't exactly make a reservation for tea. I'm leaving the day after tomorrow.
The thought made my heart stop. If I was going to make amends with Allie, I would have to do it soon.
I had one chance left. That was tomorrow.
I turned and walked off. As I turned to the corner to head up to the parking, I had a sudden urge to turn left instead. I don't usually ignore these things when they happen – one thing uncle taught me that was actually useful was to obey any hunch – and I headed down the alley on my left.
I was just wondering why my instincts would have led me into a fairly unpleasant and smelly alley round the back of all the hotels, when I heard something. A gate had just opened and someone had walked out. I stared at them.
With her somber black shirt and slacks, I almost missed her in the growing dark of the alleyway. She was wearing high-heels that clicked on the road-surface and alerted me to her presence, and she had an apron over one arm. Her long dark hair was loose around her shoulders and shone with a soft gloss in the lamplight.
It was Allie.