Chapter Twenty-One
Opening my eyes, I rolled over to check my alarm clock and let out a groan. Head throbbing as my stomach lurched. I was going to kill Jaz. Boy, could he knock back the booze. Except I was regretting getting hammered. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Didn't it always? But work with a hangover? Not such a good idea. Dragging myself from beneath the covers, I crawled towards the bathroom.
A shower, two cups of strong coffee, and two paracetamol later, I felt almost human as I walked into the office. My eyes automatically slid towards Beck's office door. It was shut. I had no idea if he was in there or not.
As I slumped into my seat, Jaz smiled at me, looking far too cheery for the amount he had put away the previous night.
“Feeling a little rough?”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I stuck my tongue out. He just laughed as I switched my computer on.
By mid-morning, I was almost back to normal thanks to more coffee and a bacon butty, compliments of Jaz. Which was a good job when Tony made his way over to my desk later.
“Kimberly, can you come to my office after lunch? I have something else I need you to work on. We can go through it together.”
“Of course.” He nodded at Jaz and headed for the stairs. Jaz watched Tony leave then turned to me.
“Do you want to get some lunch together at the coffee shop?”
“Definitely. I think I could eat a horse today and still be hungry.” Guess that's what happened when you drank too much and then had to work. Jaz laughed.
“Okay, but I don't think you'll get one at the coffee shop.”
I gave him a shove as I followed him out of the office.
It was quiet when we entered the coffee shop, but Laney appeared from the back at the sound of the bell over the door as I closed it behind me. She ran a hand over her brown curls when she saw us but only managed to make them stick out more.
“Hey, Laney.”
“Hi.”
I glanced Jaz's way when he didn't say anything, but he already had his head buried in the sandwich selection. Guess I wasn't the only one who was hungry.
As we made our way back over towards Laney to pay for our lunch, I noticed a hint of pink along her cheekbones as Jaz handed over his money, his fingertips brushing across her palm. Her question about Jaz the last time I'd been in came back to mind, and I tilted my head, looking between them. Mmm…interesting. Maybe it was more than just the food that brought Jaz there for lunch.
He wandered off to get us a table by the window as I dug out my purse from the depths of my handbag. When I looked back up, Laney had set out a plate of what I assumed were supposed to be beignets but just smelled greasy. She caught me eyeing the plate.
“Do you want to try one? They're sort of like doughnuts but have chocolate in the middle. I'm trying out some new lines, hoping they'll be more popular than some of the older ones that customers seem to be bored of.”
I really didn't want to, but the look on Laney's face had me reaching for a piece anyway. Grease dripped out of it as I picked one up, when I bit into it, expecting melted chocolate, the pastry was crusty, and there was a lump of hard chocolate in the middle. I grimaced.
“That good, huh?”
The distraught look on her face had me feeling bad. “No. It's just…they're a little greasy. And the chocolate should ooze out of the middle like the jam would in a doughnut. Have you tried them?”
She shook her head. “I don't eat desserts. A new supplier offered them to me to try and get me to start ordering from them.”
I wrinkled my nose up at that. “Well, if I were you, I wouldn't be buying from them.” She picked up the plate, turned around and dumped them in the rubbish bin.
Maybe I could make it up to her by making a batch of them for her. I'd only made them once before after I'd been on holiday to France with my parents. We'd taken the ferry across and driven through northern France for a couple of weeks, staying in gîtes along the way. The beignets I'd made hadn't been as good as the French ones, but they were definitely better than those she'd just binned.
“I'm sorry.”
She waved my apology away. “Better to find out from you than another customer.”
After paying Laney, I joined Jaz at the table.
“You were a long time.”
I unwrapped my lunch trying not to smile. “We were talking about baking.”
“Oh.”
At that, I glanced up to see what I thought was disappointment on his face, but the look disappeared before I could be sure. But I couldn't resist. “Why? Did you think we were talking about you?” He sputtered around the bite of his sandwich. And I wasn't sure, but I thought he might be blushing as his cheeks darkened. It didn't seem very Jaz-like, though.
“No. Why would I think that?”
But I didn't miss the way his eyes darted towards Laney. “I don't know. Maybe you come here for more than just the food?” But Jaz shook his head.
“You know I love the food here.”
As I leaned over to take a bite of my own sandwich, his gaze darted over towards the counter again. I put my lunch down, not even trying to hide my smile that time. “Or maybe it's those looks you keep directing at Laney.” Jaz's food suddenly became fascinating as he turned all his attention to it.
“I don't know what you mean,” he mumbled.
Letting out a laugh, I picked up my sandwich again. I was pretty sure he did know what I meant.
But if he liked Laney, why hadn't he said something to her? Jaz didn't seem the shy type when it came to going after something he wanted.
Back in the office, I carried the stack of papers back to my desk that Tony had given me and got to work. I'd still seen nothing of Beck and tried to push thoughts of him away. Clearly it wasn't working, and I must've still been hung-over because the paperwork Tony had given me made no sense.
The new account Tony had landed had already paid us, yet I couldn't work out what they'd paid us for. And it was way over the amount I'd seen on other accounts paid on a monthly basis. Putting it down to the hangover, I made a note to double-check the account on Monday. I must be missing something but it was already a quarter to five and I was more than ready to go home. Veg out on the sofa for the night. Eat junk food and binge watch re-runs of The Good Wife.
With a quick glance around the office, I pulled my mobile out of my bag. Checking it for the hundredth time that day. Still nothing. No texts. No messages. Not a word from Beck. I slipped it back into my handbag and tidied my desk up. Shuffled papers around to kill time until I could leave. As soon as the clock hit five o'clock, I was out of there.
Finally home, I collapsed onto the sofa with a groan and covered my eyes with my hand. It had been the longest day on record. Penny rubbed herself against my other hand before settling down next to me and purring loudly.
“At least you're glad to see me.”
My mobile bleeped with a message vibrating loudly against the coffee table. I grabbed it and earned myself a glare from Penny as I jostled her.
Have to work the weekend. Sorry. Speak soon.
My eyes watered at the brief, unemotional text and I threw the phone onto the other end of the sofa. It might be true, but I suspected Beck was avoiding me. I just didn't know why. And right then, I couldn't muster up the energy to figure it out.