There was no way I’d be brave enough to send it to a literary agent.
I sighed and closed the fridge. There wasn’t even any food in it. I’d barely been able to scrounge up breakfast.
My novel would never be read by anyone but me. At least that way I could pretend it was good and not have to face the possibility I may not have any talent.
My phone rang. Grabbing it off the counter, I saw Emmy Eaves’ name.
Ugh.
She was probably calling to tell me I had to drop my asking price for the café. Which would mean I’d need to convince the bank to let me pay off the loan out of any future wages I earned. It would likely take a decade or two, and I’d have to kiss my plans for Dad’s wheelchair accessible kitchen goodbye.
“Hi Emmy.” I sounded dejected. Not like someone who’d just finished the novel she’d been working on for years.
“Nat, I’ve been working on Gigi and Butch.” As usual, Emmy got straight to the point. “They keep insisting the café isn’t worth what you’re asking, so I talked them through some other listings to prove it is. We’ve discussed it for quite a while, and they’re still interested. Given a little more time, I’m confident I can convince them to lift their offer.”
“Really?” My heart leaped. “You think they’ll raise it to what I need to pay off the loan?”
“They want to come back to the café tomorrow after you close. In the meantime, I’ll get their best offer on paper, and we’ll negotiate from there.”
I let out a loud whoosh of air and found myself smiling. “Thank you, Emmy.”
As soon as I hung up, I called Kade to give him the good news. He made appreciative noises like he was happy for me, then asked, “What are you doing now?”
I glanced at my laptop. My finished novel was still on the screen.
“I’ve been doing the cryptic crossword,” I lied, remembering I said he could read my novel once I was finished. “It’s a real humdinger. Wait. I’ve just realized ‘humdinger’ is the answer to six down: Sound bell for knockout.”
He laughed. “I have no idea how you figure those things out.”
“What are you doing?” I could hear sizzling, as though he was cooking something in a hot frying pan.
“Making dumplings with dipping sauce, and I could use a second opinion. I can’t decide if the garlic dipping sauce is better, or the satay one. Don’t suppose you have time to come over and taste them?”
My stomach rumbled. Loudly.
Sprinting down the hall, I swiped my car keys from the hall table as I went. “Um,” I panted. “Yeah, sure, I guess. I mean, you’ve been doing so much for me, it wouldn’t be right not to return the favor.”
My mouth was already watering so hard, I was surprised I was able to form words instead of making gurgling sounds.
“See you in a while, then?”
“I suppose I could come now, seeing as I’m not really doing anything important.” Vaulting into the car, I jammed the key into the ignition and peeled out of my driveway like I was in the Grand Prix.
When I got to Asher’s place, Kade answered the door looking like hot buttered sex in blue jeans and a molded-on Tee. My appreciation of his looks momentarily overrode my hunger, which was a massive feat considering the delicious smell that wafted out with him.
Hardly surprising his millions of female fans were so enthusiastic about his show. If it were sixty minutes of no food at all, it’d still be the most mouth-watering program on television.
“Hey, Nat. How’d you get here so fast?” Kade frowned over my shoulder at my car, probably wondering if I’d installed a flux capacitor.
“You said you needed help with taste tests? I’m here to be helpful. Assisting others in their time of need is kind of my thing. What can I say, I’m pretty much a saint.” I forced myself to walk—not run—into the kitchen. Sliding onto one of the stools at the kitchen island, I ran my gaze eagerly over the food he’d been cooking.
He moved to the stove. “Okay, Saint Natalie. You can start by tasting this.” With a pair of chopsticks, he dipped a dumpling into a bowl of sauce and offered it to me.
I opened my mouth and let him feed it to me. When I bit down, the rich flavor filled my mouth and a chorus of heavenly angels burst into song.
“Ohhh-mmm,” I moaned as I swallowed. “I just had a mouth-gasm.”
“Try this one and tell me if it’s better or worse.” He chopsticked another dumpling into my mouth and I moaned again.
“Mmm-ohhh. So, so good.”
“Better than the last one?”
“Can’t tell yet. Need more to be able to decide.” I leaned forward, opening my mouth like a baby bird.
He grinned, his smile doing wicked things to my nether regions. “Hungry?”
“Saint-like and eager to help.” I pointed impatiently at my open mouth.
“Here.” He pushed over the plate of dumplings and handed me the chopsticks. “You may as well finish these. I can make more.”
I crammed another dumpling into my mouth and spoke around it. “Will you show me how to make them?”
He froze, widening his eyes and dropping his jaw in exaggerated shock. “You want to learn how to make dumplings?”
“I do.”
He gave a theatrical gasp, and I pretended to scowl. Or at least, I would have, if I wasn’t busy shoveling another dumpling into my mouth.
“It’s not that weird,” I said with my mouth full.
“It is for you.”
“If I’m better at cooking, I won’t need to look for a chef. It’ll be easier to find someone to work behind the front counter instead, taking the orders and making coffee.” I swallowed, letting out another groan of pleasure. “Just because
