“You’re an idiot then. My ex was like that.” Lori cocked her head and leaned away from him. “That’s why he’s an ex. Don’t be like that.”
Great. I would get the Dr. Phil of handlers. “You sound a little bitter.”
“I’m doing you a favor by saying this. Don’t screw up like he did.”
The car pulled back in at the hotel, and they walked through the ground-level entrance to the elevators.
If only he could roll back the clock about seven years. It probably hadn’t helped that Aunt Claire reminded him constantly how lucky he was to be working in one of Paris’ top gourmet restaurants. He’d been highlighted in a magazine for being one of the youngest American chefs to ever work in a Michelin 3-star restaurant. And all of that had been awesome, but now he wasn’t so sure he’d made the right decision. Maybe he’d known it wasn’t the right one all along.
“Come on in over here,” Lori said, unlocking her room next door. “We can figure out dinner.”
“Sounds good.” He sat on the couch in the sitting area of her room, which was exactly like his, except backward.
“So tell me about your baking experience. You’re a pastry chef, obviously,” Lori said.
“No. I’m really not a baker at all. However, I did study under the very best pastry chefs in France, and finished top in my class. I’m Chef de Cuisine for Francois Dumont. In his signature restaurant.”
“But you’re not a baker now?” Lori didn’t look impressed. “So, why are you here then? You do know this is all about pastries, candy, and cakes right?”
“I do. I’m a good baker. It’s just not my first love.” The loblolly pine tree back in Bailey’s Fork where he’d carved AY + KM popped into his mind. KM was his true first love. “I guess mostly I’m here because someone was kind enough to nominate me and the team here thought I’d be a good competitor. I’m not about to turn my nose up at a chance like this.”
“I guess I can understand that. You’re going to have some tough competition though. I know you went to some fancy schools, but if it’s not in your heart, they’re going to be able to tell.”
I hope not. “About dinner. I’m starved. How about you get us a couple of street vendor hot dogs?”
Lori’s face lit up. “Now you’re talking my language. Chili?”
“All the way.” He thought about the hot dogs he and Kelly used to make. They’d roast them on wire hangers over the fire pit in her folks’ backyard. She loved hers burnt to a crisp. For someone who loved baking, she did have a peculiar palate, and that had made her all the more fun to cook for.
“You’re in for a treat.” Lori pulled on her coat and wrapped a scarf around her neck.
From the window he watched her jog across the street to the hot dog stand.
When Lori came crashing back into the condo, the onions hit him before she made it through the door.
“Dinner is served. Got you a pretzel too. May as well do it up right.”
He’d pulled a bottle of wine out of the mini-bar and poured them each a glass. “Salut.”
They both took a sip of the wine, then he bit into his hot dog. Chili ran down his chin. He swept at it with the napkin. “This is a darn good dog.”
“Oh, yeah. We’re known for them,” she said through a mouthful.
“So are you going to be spending your Valentine’s Day babysitting me?”
“If you make it that far,” she challenged.
“That wasn’t nice.” He put his hot dog down and took another swallow of wine. “I’ll make it to the end. Count on it.”
“Good. It pays me a hundred bucks a day plus per diem for meals. Plus I get bonuses the farther you get.”
“Not bad money. I guess you can always celebrate Valentine’s Day the day after. Way easier to get reservations then anyway.”
“I’m not big on roses and candy anyway, and there’s no one special waiting for me at home. Remember the ex I was talking about?”
“Maybe he’ll surprise you and call.”
Lori balled up the paper boat the hot dog had been in and tossed it at Andrew. “What makes you think I want him to?”
He caught the paper wad in the air and leveled a stare in her direction. “Because you’re mad.” He pointed a finger at her. “That means you miss him. Which means there’s still a chance.” His ears tingled. If he listened to his own advice, then there was a chance for him with Kelly. She was still mad. Had even said so.
He laid down his hot dog, washing down the bite with another sip of wine. Good news. There is a chance, albeit slim, for me after all.
“I need to add another name to my important phone call list.”
Lori pulled the list out of her tote bag and handed it to him. “Sure. Here you go.”
He held the pen in his hand. This was totally wishful thinking, but if she did call…he wanted to know. He wrote Need Cookies on the phone list.
“Need cookies?” Lori asked. “Seriously? Is this a joke to get dessert?”
“No. It’s a real person.” Kelly was still in his phone under the nickname he’d given her in high school.
“This wouldn’t happen to be the girl you should have told she was special, now would it?”
“Yeah. A nickname. We were in high school, and she’d been raising money to go to cheerleading camp. I’ll never forget that day. It was the first time I’d noticed her as a girl, and not just a friend. We’d grown up together. You know how that is.”
“Sure do. I’m from a small town too.”
“I bought some of her cookies. They were amazing, but more amazing than the cookies was the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about baking them. Her eyes are as dark as milk chocolate. I was
