We said our goodbyes, and managed to extract a grudging almost-apology from Trixie before we left.
I’d hustled Nat out early because I’d been planning to progress what we’d been doing in Asher’s kitchen, this time without interruptions. But when we stopped at Nat’s place, a man was on her doorstep.
It was Willis.
The sight of him made me grit my teeth. Nat had said they weren’t dating. According to her, their mysterious meetings weren’t romantic, but I was sure Willis didn’t see it the same way.
Nat got out of the car. “Willis! I’m sorry, I forgot we had an appointment.”
I got out of the driver’s side and followed Nat as she hurried to her front door.
Willis leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded. He looked me up and down, his mouth pulled tight.
He didn’t like me any more than I liked him.
“I can’t meet now,” said Nat. “Can we change it to Tuesday morning instead, before work?”
“All right.” His tone was grudging, and he stayed where he was, blocking the door.
“Excuse me,” I said. It would have been a polite request for him to step aside, only my expression probably made it clear I meant to go inside even if I had to go through him.
Maybe I was acting like a caveman, but everything about Willis annoyed me. I didn’t like his height, which was close to mine, his pretty-boy looks, sulky lips, or tousled hair. I especially disliked the possessive way he acted toward Nat.
Willis pushed off the doorframe and stepped past me, deliberately bumping his shoulder against mine as he sauntered to the sidewalk.
“I’ll see you later, Nat,” he said over his shoulder.
I watched him leave as Nat unlocked her door.
“You’re sure you’re not dating him?”
“What? If I was, you think I would have kissed you?”
I shrugged. Willis’s appearance was a burr under my skin, ruining my plans. I’d never been a jealous guy, and didn’t want to act that way with Nat. Not after I’d accepted there’d never be anything permanent between us.
“You should be careful,” I said, coming up with a reason for my annoyance. “Billy said he’s been swamped with reporters wanting interviews, and some might turn up in San Dante. They hide around corners trying to snap unflattering photos.” Though Billy had actually warned me, I’d forgotten to pass it on before now.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She put her hand on my waist. “Um. You want to come in for a drink?” Her cheeks flushed. She was chewing on her lip the way she did when she was nervous. “Or I could find some flour and we could finish making dumplings?”
The invitation in her voice was clear, but the confrontation with Willis had soured my plans. Seeing him reminded me of how Nat had moved on from our relationship, building a life that didn’t include me. She’d gotten over our relationship better than I had.
Having sex wouldn’t get her out of my system, it’d make things worse.
There were other women in the world. Other ways I could work on forgetting her.
“I need to get back to Asher’s,” I said.
“Wait, you’re leaving? Just like that?” Her voice rose as I turned away.
I stopped and turned back, giving her a shrug. “I have some things to do.”
“Can’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” I smiled like I’d thought of something funny. “But I’m not sure you can add dumplings to the menu at Mack’s Place yet.”
She was starting to look mad. “Talk to me, Kade. Please.”
I stepped close enough that I could kiss her forehead, like friend might do. “Let’s talk at the cafe tomorrow.” I tweaked a strand of her hair that still had flour in it. “See ya, Nat.”
Then I left without looking back.
Chapter Eighteen
Natalie
When my phone rang about an hour or so after Kade had dropped me off at home, I was surprised to see my neighbor’s name on the screen.
She was an older woman who lived on the other side of the café, and had only ever called to warn me of some kind of problem. Like when she’d spotted kids loitering around the back door, looking for things to steal, or when some drunk guys tried to break in to eat the food they could see in the cabinet.
I picked up the call right away. “Mrs. Patterson?” I asked.
“Natalie, dear, it’s Mrs. Patterson,” she said, as though I hadn’t just said her name. She sounded flustered. “My son was just here, and when he was leaving, I saw something strange. I thought maybe it was something you’ve done yourself, because it seems so odd. But then I thought I’d better call you. Better safe than sorry.”
“What did you see?”
“There’s a hose going through the window into your café. And why would you need to run a hose in there?”
“What?” My stomach clenched.
“You didn’t know about it then?”
“No. Thank you for telling me. I’d better go and check it now.” I was already hurrying outside, heading to the café at a fast trot.
The sound of water running made me feel sick. A small, high window, hidden from the road by the café's dumpster, had been pried open. Security bars stopped anyone using it to get inside, but someone had fed a hose through and turned it on.
I turned the faucet off before rushing inside. Though the side window was in the kitchen, the floor in the main part of the café was so wet, water soaked into my sneakers as I splashed through, scanning for damage. The concrete floors would be okay, thank goodness, and the legs of the chairs and tables were metal. But there was a dark tide line around the bottom of the walls where the water had soaked in. And when I got to the kitchen, the wall where the garden hose dangled was a soggy ruin. Water had pooled in the stove elements and was dripping off the counters.
I sloshed to the main electrical board and flipped the switches to kill
