⤷ 🧁 ----- CH. TWO
A PROPOSITION
DARCY BIT INTO A BROWNIE as she leaned against the bakery's front counter. Pecan praline, a Baked With Love classic.
"See, this is delicious," she said. "I'd go as far as saying it's perfect, one of your best recipes."
Kate, who had been combining trays of baked goods in preparation for closing, glanced over at her friend. "But?"
Darcy had always been blunt. Even in high school when they had met (Darcy a senior and Kate a sophomore), the older girl stopped her in the hallway to tell her that her scarf washed her out (but not without also offering her a better accessory in exchange). Her candor was a quality Kate appreciated most of the time and was quite used to, which was also why she knew the girl had something to say.
"Not a 'but,' a 'so,'" Darcy corrected before continuing. "As in so what happened? All your usual stuff is great, but nothing new you've tried to make has tasted better than dog water."
Kate scoffed, wiping the display. "Dog water's a bit much. Dog kibble I might accept."
Darcy stuffed the rest of the brownie into her mouth, chewing heartily. "You know what would do you good?"
"A break?" She answered, echoing Evan's sentiments from earlier that morning.
"No. You need a fresh set of eyes, or in this case, a fresh . . . mouth? Teeth. Taste buds! No? You don't agree?"
Kate supposed it was an option, but her face scrunched in confusion when she realized, "Didn't you say you had a shoot today?"
Darcy's eyes darted to the clock, and she cursed, scrambling to gather her things. "Shit. Shit, shit! Amara's going to kill me! Thanks babes, I'll see you later."
But before she left, she hurriedly called out, "Post a sign outside the shop. Get someone with a sensitive palate."
The door closed with a jangle behind her, and Kate resumed cleaning.
A helping hand, huh. It didn't sound too bad.
As stubborn as she was and hated to admit he was right, Evan's mention of burn out hadn't left her mind all day. And Darcy was always looking out for her. Testing new recipes wasn't getting any easier. Maybe the solution was a new set of . . . taste buds.
But her thoughts came to a pause when the overhead bells sounded again with the door opening.
"Welcome to Baked With . . . Love."
Obnoxiously bright socks. Black shorts that showcased his calves. A shiny black vest atop a disgustingly orange shirt and a matching crossbody bag.
Save for his hair, Jamie Tartt was still the same revolting asshole he was when they first started dating six years ago and when they broke up five years ago.
"What are you doing here?"
Kate's heart pounded against her chest, that icky anxious feeling crawling across her skin. Get out, she should have said.
It wasn't the worst break up per say, but could any departure from your first love be amicable?
"Well, I was hoping for three dozen jam tarts. Oh, and I brought you flowers." He held the colorful bouquet up so she could see. A small but awkward smile on his face.
"What the fuck."
And suddenly her eyes were welling with tears, not because she was sad or touched by his actions but because she was enormously frustrated. She was annoyed and so, so mad that after all this time he thought he could just waltz in here with flowers and ask for fucking jam tarts! As if it would soothe old wounds. As if the last time they'd seen each other hadn't been a complete mess (and the reason Evan and Darcy moved in). And it absolutely sucked that when she felt like this it wasn't calm, collected venom that spit from her tongue but tears that fell from her eyes instead.
"Are you okay?" Jamie asked, and the concern in his voice only caused her more anger. He took a small step forward, but Kate had already reached for the closest thing (which happened to be a croissant) and hurled it at him. "Oi! I said I brought you flowers! Have you developed an allergy?"
She didn't stop reaching for croissants and by the time she'd gotten to the last one, crumbs and flakes were flying everywhere and Jamie was covered in buttery goodness.
"Do you feel better?" He asked, huffing and reaching for a napkin, which Kate quickly snatched from his hand. "You're being really childish right now!"
"You broke my heart!"
"And I'm here to make amends! Hence, the flowers!" Jamie made it a point to shake the bouquet he was still holding, eyes wide with disbelief. "You haven't even tried to hear me out!"
"Why are you yelling at me!" Kate said, matching his tone. "You're the one who's come into my shop after no contact for five years and made a mess!"
"I'm the one who made a mess?" Now Jamie was truly in disbelief. "You're the one throwing bread at me!"
"Because you—you scared me!"
"Alright, it was a mistake coming here. I'm—"
It was something straight out of a comedy skit. Jamie turned around and headed for the door, only for his foot to meet untimely demise with a croissant. It was cartoonish, really, the way he fell. Straight back, landing with a loud thud and an immediate groan.
Kate made a noise of surprise, covering her mouth out of shock, before bursting into laughter even as he glared up at her. Because it seemed the bouquet had quite a bit of thorns and when he slipped, it clung to the front of his pants and . . .
Well, it seemed Jamie also matched his underwear to his outfit. Today, a vibrant shade of orange.
🧁
"Quit moving, or I'm going to fuck up the bandaid."
"Well, your hands are cold," Jamie said, still fidgeting under her touch.
The two occupied her office space, a small room at the back of the bakery. He'd hopped up onto her desk while his ripped pants had been discarded. Luckily, he had a spare in his car (which she begrudgingly retrieved from him).
Kate rolled her eyes and took ahold of his leg, ignoring the way the muscle tensed beneath her fingers. She'd already disinfected the jagged but shallow cut running along his thigh. Carefully, she place the bandage over the wound and made sure to press down hard on the edges eliciting an unlikely yelp from Jamie.
"Real funny," he said, jumping down from the table and pulling at the ends of the shorts.
"Thanks, I've always been the comedian between the two of us. Oh, wait, no. It was a clown, jester, a fool, really, for falling for you in the first place." Kate walked past him towards the front.
Jamie followed after her. "I said I were sorry! Like a million times while you were patching me up."
She scoffed, turning so abruptly he nearly ran into her. He caught himself just in time, but she started to walk towards him again. Intimidated (and honestly a wee bit scared), he matched each step with one backward until he was backed up against the wall. It had been a while since he'd seen this look of hers—irritation with a healthy dose of disappointment.
"You ghosted me," she said. Jamie opened his mouth, but Kate silenced him with a simple shake of her head. "On the day of our one-year anniversary."
"I'm sorry . . . I am. It was shitty of me."
Kate could smell the cologne he used from this close. It was different than it was before. "You were my first boyfriend, my first love."
"You were mine too," he said softly.
Finally, she stepped away from him, turning her back to him to compose herself. Five years and a broken heart, but somehow he still managed to shake her. "What do you want from me, Jamie?"
"Three dozen jam tarts," he said. A beat passed. "And a few lessons . . ."
Kate whipped back around, narrowing her eyes at him. "A few lessons on . . . ?"
He coughed stiffly, readjusting his vest and not meeting her eyes. "Ehm. You know, just, a few lessons on . . . how to be a good boyfriend and love and that general area."
Kate's expression dropped. "You're joking."
"Okay, I know—"
"You're fucking joking!"
"Listen," Jamie said evenly, hands out in front of him like he was trying to calm an animal. "I know I fucked up, alright, but I'm different now. I've been making amends with people and whatever. I even pass the ball now! I'm a changed man."
She didn't seem convinced, and he sighed. "But I can't land a second date anymore, and I know it sounds stupid, but I saw your segment with BBC Food. And I started thinking, and you're the only girl I've really connected with besides Keeley, but she's with Roy or not with him anymore or—it's complicated. The bottom line is that you're the first girl I fell in love with, and I will give you anything if you teach me how to love again. Properly this time."
Kate's anger melted into a weird mix of emotions. It was still there residing in her heart, but beside it now was conflicting sympathy and a hesitance to trust him. Her eyes flitted to his, and God, they were so warm, shining flecks of sincerity swimming in brown pools. She used to get lost in them.
"I want your car," she blurted out. Was she really entertaining this?
Jamie's eyebrows shot up. "You don't even drive!"
"You don't know that," she returned, crossing her arms over her chest. (He was right, but she wasn't going to let him know that now.) "You want my help, then I want your car and—" Darcy's earlier words flashed before her, 'sensitive palate' and helping taste buds, "—and I need you to taste all my new recipes." Okay, so she was really going through with this.
"I'm a footballer. S'posed to stay fit."
"You ordered three dozen jam tarts."
He huffed. "It wasn't all for me! I was gonna share with the team, but . . . fine, okay. Anything else?"
Jamie watched as Kate tore a piece of paper from a notepad on her desk and began writing down all their conditions. Hesitantly, he joined her. His eyes scanned the childish makeshift contract and the cheesy lines she'd drawn out at the bottom undoubtedly meant for their signatures.
She handed him a pen, and with a reluctant sigh, he signed along the first line. She did the same on the second. With that, she took the paper and held it to her wall before sticking it up with a piece of tape.
Kate turned to Jamie. "Now get out of my shop."
🧁 ━━━━ END OF CHAPTER NOTE
And that's a wrap for Chapter 2! Here, we get a bit of insight on Kate and Jamie's past relationship and the dynamic they've developed for their newly agreed upon and somewhat rocky friendship. I tried my best not to be too typical and cliché, but I might have gotten a bit carried away. Anyway, thoughts? Comments? Predictions? Leave a like, and see you next chapter!
XOXO,
LONDON