“I’ve had to regretfully list Mack’s Place for sale, but my father opened the café forty-two years ago, and I’d like to find a new owner who wants to keep it running.”
“Mack’s Place is where I learned to cook,” I added. “It’s part of the history of San Dante, which is a beautiful coastal town and a great place to live. It’s the perfect business for a couple who want to run a lifestyle business together. Whoever buys it won’t regret it.”
“It’s a beautiful café,” Mona said. I hope you find someone to take it on.”
“Thank you.” Nat gave her a smile that was as nervous as it was endearing. If there were anyone watching who wasn’t captivated by that smile, they had to be heartless.
“What’s next for you, Kade?” asked Mona.
“Well, I’m about to head back to LA to start filming the new season of Kade Cooks.” I talked about my show for a while, indulging in more promotion while Billy gave me two thumbs up. He was watching from behind the film crew, his face lighting up every time I mentioned the show.
“You said you’re going back to LA to shoot the show?” Mona asked.
I nodded. “That’s where the studio is.”
“I assume you’ll move to LA too, Natalie?”
Nat’s face tightened. “Oh. Well, I’m not sure. But Kade’s work is important to him, and sacrifice is an important part of being in a relationship, isn’t it?” Her forced smile looked like it had contracted a case of rigor mortis.
“We haven’t settled on anything yet,” I said.
“But surely you want to be with Natalie?” Mona raised her eyebrows at me. “You’re not giving up your show?”
“Nobody has to give up anything. Natalie and I will work it out.” I put the emphasis on ‘Natalie and I’ so she’d realize she was prying into things we didn’t want to discuss.
But like the seasoned reporter she was, Mona seemed determined to get an answer.
“Natalie, if you don’t go to LA—” she started.
“Why don’t you try one of Kade’s delicious pastries?” interrupted Nat.
“Are you saying you wouldn’t support Kade’s career by choosing to stay with him?” Mona’s eyes held a relentless gleam.
“Um.” Nat stared at Mona like she would an oncoming train. “Please have a pastry.”
“They’re raspberry and chocolate,” I picked up the plate and offered it to Mona. “Take a bite. I’m sure you’ll like them.”
“They look delicious, Kade. Before I try one, I’m curious about Natalie’s thoughts on—”
“They do look delicious, Kade!” With a wild-eyed look at me, Nat grabbed a pastry and bit into it.
But I’d miscalculated. I’d sealed the pastry a little too well, trapping air inside which had expanded thanks to the heat. And the pastry was still warm from the oven, the raspberry and chocolate filling runny.
The goo inside didn’t ooze slowly out.
The pastry exploded.
On live television.
Millions of viewers got to see lumpy red and brown goo burst from between Natalie’s teeth like the world’s biggest zit being popped.
Warm raspberry and chocolate squirted everywhere. Onto Mona, me, and Nat. It splattered over our faces and clothes.
“Fuck!” I shouted. Also on live television.
“Cut to commercial!” yelled the director.
Gasping, Mona fumbled for a napkin to wipe chunks of raspberry off her eyelashes.
Goo dripped from Nat’s glasses. Behind splatters of red and brown, her eyes were filled with shock.
I lifted a hand to catch a chunk as it fell. “That’s one way to end an interview,” I was overcome with an overwhelming urge to laugh. “Come on, Nat. Let’s get cleaned up.”
Nat scrambled off her chair. We were already being swarmed by panicked crew members babbling their horror at the mess we’d created. I took Nat’s hand to pull her through the rapidly assembling mob, and she grabbed it like I was the last lifeboat on the Titanic.
“I’m so sorry. And thank you for the interview,” she said to Mona as I tugged her away. “It was lovely meeting you. Again, I’m really sorry.”
Mona sputtered something, apparently too traumatized to be coherent, but it was the carefully polite tone Nat used that made me smile to myself.
Her sweet apology was so perfectly, exactly Nat, a surge of affection for her all but overwhelmed me. There may be four billion women in the world, but I already knew none of the others could make me feel the things I felt for her.
Chapter Fifteen
Natalie
Sunday was my favorite day of the week. The café was closed on Sundays, so I could do whatever I wanted.
Today there were only two things I was determined to do.
The first, and most important, was to keep myself busy so I didn’t obsess over the humiliating end to yesterday’s interview.
The second was to finish my novel. After years of work, the fun slash-fest of a serial-killer novel which had helped me keep both my temper and my sanity was so close to being done, I could taste it.
And after spending most of the morning sweating over my laptop, I finally did it. With a feeling of intense relief, I got to write: ‘The End’. They were two tiny, insignificant words, but when I added them to four hundred blood-splattered pages of murder and mirth, they may as well have been a hundred feet tall.
Maybe it was the giddy feeling brought on by the pleasure of finishing, but it almost felt like those two little words could have the power to change my life.
I stared at them for a long time, wondering how I should celebrate. Champagne, perhaps? Or a firm pat on my own back?
Feeling a little silly, I said, “Well done, Natalie,” into my empty living room. Then I prowled to the fridge and opened it, knowing full well there was no champagne inside.
I could probably go out and buy some, but now my rush of triumph was fading, reality was kicking back in. My victory felt a little hollow when the book could be terrible. Anyone reading it would be horrified at what a strange and twisted place the inside
