Cal launched into one story after another. Him sharing so muchconfirmed her hope the party would be relatively tame. He chatted most of theway home and, when conversation lulled, she gave him control of the music. Hesang along and didn’t ask any more questions, and she’d never appreciatedangsty white guys with guitars quite so much.
* * *
Quinn lingered over coffee, reading the paper and taking a stabat the crossword. For some reason, weekend mornings hit her the hardest. Probablybecause it was one of the few true rituals she and Lesedi had. Fighting overthe different sections, taking turns refilling their cups, passing the puzzleback and forth until they’d conquered it.
She no longer yearned to share those moments with Lesedi,fortunately, but she yearned to share them with someone. Even as her brainreminded her she wasn’t ready for another serious relationship, her heartlonged. A condition she’d come to think of as the divorce paradox.
Knowing she could slip into a state of moping that would haunther all day, she hoisted herself up and got dressed. After packing a lunch intoher cooler bag, she went outside to load her kayak. Sunshine and a paddle woulddo her good. It would also let her off the hook for going to the gym—totalbonus.
Although Cayuga Lake was closer, she decided to mix things up anddrive over to Seneca. She could put in at Watkins Glen and paddle up the eastside a ways before circling back. And if she found herself on the route thatwould take her past Bake My Day on the way home, well, it wouldn’t be such abad thing.
She got to the lake before the picnickers descended and unloadedwithout crossing paths with another soul. A breeze gave the water a hint ofchop, but she didn’t mind. It kept her cool and gave her arms something to workagainst. She wouldn’t have to feel bad about skipping the gym. She kept closeto the shore, assessing and occasionally admiring the grand lake houses andtiny cottages along the way. It bugged her when the designs were clearlyhigh-end but lacked anything resembling finesse. Some people clearly droppedmoney into things that did little more than show off their money.
She pulled into a cove to cool off with a swim and have lunch,then paddled back to where she’d started. After loading her kayak andexchanging hellos with a few of the folks coming and going from the launchspot, she remembered her plan to stop by the bakery. She ran her fingersthrough her hair and glanced in the rearview mirror. Perhaps she shouldn’t havetaken the swim.
No worries. She likely wouldn’t see Amanda anyway. And if shedid, well, it was a compliment to her cupcakes that Quinn couldn’t resist them.Disheveled or otherwise.
For a tiny town, Kenota was bustling. She parked a few blocksaway, telling herself it was to get a feel for the surrounding architecture andnot to give her hair a few extra minutes to dry. Couples and families strolledalong, eating ice cream and popping in and out of the handful of shops. She’dnot been to the newest addition—Rustic Refined—but had heard good things. She’dhave to check it out when she was less soggy.
At the bakery, a handful of customers occupied the few tables butno one waited in line ahead of her. She focused her attention on the contentsof the case and not the fact that there was no sign of Amanda. It was reliefspreading through her, not disappointment.
She’d almost convinced herself when Amanda emerged from thekitchen. Unlike the day of their meeting, she wore a crisp white chef’s coatwith the bakery logo embroidered on it. Her sandy hair was pulled back intosome sort of twist, leaving a few loose strands to frame her face.
Quinn cleared her throat. Her pulse definitely didn’t kick up anotch and she absolutely didn’t get a flutter of butterflies in her stomach.
“I’m about ready to load up. Do you need anything before I go?”Amanda said to the woman at the register.
Was it bad form to stare if the woman she was staring at hadn’teven noticed her presence?
“We’re all good here. Are you coming back or calling it a dayafter you deliver?”
“I think I’m going to head home. I’ve had a very full twenty-fourhours.”
The woman behind the register nodded. “Good. I hope you put yourfeet up and have a glass of wine.”
Amanda turned back toward the kitchen. Quinn sighed. Not beingnoticed at all wasn’t a relief, no matter how hard she tried to convinceherself.
But then Amanda paused. She turned and looked back, like she wasdoing a double take. Quinn raised a hand in greeting. “Hi.”
Recognition gave way to alarm. “Quinn. We don’t have a meetingtoday, do we?”
She probably shouldn’t notice, much less enjoy, the way Amandasaid her name. She glanced down at her casual, not to mention damp, appearance.“If we did, I’d hope to be a bit more presentable.”
Amanda laughed. Quinn liked that sound even more. “Oh, good. Whatbrings you by?”
It was nice that her primary motivation wasn’t hoping to run intoAmanda. She hated lying, even over silly things. “Cupcakes.”
“Well then, you’re in the right place.”
“I mean, I took my kayak out on Seneca Lake, so I was sort ofpassing by. I didn’t come all the way here just for cupcakes.”
“Ah.” Amanda raised a brow, making Quinn realize her defense cameout like a backhanded compliment.
“Not that your cupcakes wouldn’t be worth the trip. I just liketo think I have slightly more restraint.”
Amanda lifted both hands. “You don’t need an explanation, one wayor the other.”
Was that a trace of teasing in her voice? It sounded like it. Howdid Amanda manage to be so easy to talk to, even when Quinn seemed hell-bent onmaking an ass of herself? “Thanks.” She could leave it at that, but she didn’tquite want the conversation to
