Page 3 of Tasting Sin

The last time I had seen him was the week before my brother’s funeral. When Dickie died, Ronan stopped coming around. He didn’t even go to his best friend’s memorial. I sucked in a deep breath, hoping to steady my voice before I spoke. Just be cool, Nellie.

I acted as naturally as I could, hoping he didn’t recognize me. I was eleven when my older brother died, and I was sure my full hips, tattoos, and dark hair would be enough to prevent Ronan Moretti from recognizing me. “May I help you?” I asked, brushing my hands over my apron.

“Are you the owner?” He jumped straight to business, pointing over his shoulder at the yellow sign without flinching, and my shoulders relaxed slightly. Maybe he hadn’t recognized me after all.

I nodded. “I am.”

“When is it ready to be leased?” Ronan scanned the restaurant, slowly running his eyes over every wall and fixture. He paused when he saw the framed picture of a cartoon cupcake dancing with a coffee cup, and he lifted his brow in obvious judgment.

“It’s not,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. He looked confused, glancing slightly behind him at the window and back to me. “The sign is a mistake. I’m working with the landlord to have it removed. We won’t be moving.”

Ronan narrowed his eyes, like he was debating if he should believe me or not, and when he shrugged a single shoulder, I was sure that he didn’t. “Are you sure?”

“I’m completely positive.” I planted my hands against the counter in front of me to stop them from shaking. “I’m sorry for any inconvenience.”

He nodded curtly and turned on his heel. “I understand. Thank you for your time.”

His footsteps sounded louder in the awkwardly silent bakery, and I held my breath while my heart stuttered nervously. I counted the steps he took toward the door, waiting until he reached for the handle and tugged. The ring of the bell was a relief.

Ava came back to the front. “Oh, you’re leaving? You don’t want a cupcake?” she asked, gesturing vaguely to the full display cases. “Nellie makes the best Italian cream cake in Boston.” My stomach dropped to the tile floor beneath my feet.

Ronan twisted around, and his dark eyes were filled with sudden recognition. I closed mine, waiting for longer than a couple of seconds before I opened them again. When I did, he was still staring at me. “No, thank you,” he said to Ava without averting his gaze. “I’m not really a fan of sweets.”

“Oh, come on,” Ava urged, stepping forward and putting her hands on the cabinet. I struggled to maintain my composure while every part of me wanted to run from the room. “Everyone likes sweets!”

“Not everyone.” I looked sharply at her from the corner of my eye, hoping she’d catch the glare and take the hint. “Let him go.”

“Really? It’s one cupcake.” If there was one thing Ava was not good at, it was getting the hint. She was also pushy—the type of girl who will continue doing anything she has to in order to get her way. If she wanted something, she got it, and for some reason, she really wanted Ronan to buy a cupcake.

He shook his head. “Have a good night, ladies.” Ronan stared at me for another felt-like-way-longer-than-it-was moment before he left.

When the door shut and latched behind him, I let out a loud breath of relief. My heart was pounding, and I could feel it pushing against my ribs. I fought back the rush of anxiety that clawed at me, but when Ava cleared her throat, it crashed over me.

Breathing felt more difficult, like somebody was sitting on my chest or squeezing my lungs. I watched his shadow disappear, and when I was sure Ronan Moretti wasn’t coming back through that door, I felt the weight slowly lift. Did he know he would find me here?

“So,” Ava started, resting her hip against the counter and crossing her arms over her chest. She cocked her head to the side, pursing her lips and lifting her eyebrows. “What the fuck was that all about?” she finally asked.

“It’s nothing,” I said, knowing without having to look in a mirror that my face was paler than normal. I was certain I looked like I had seen a ghost. In a way, I had.

Ava rolled her eyes. “Well, we both obviously know that’s not true. You knew that man.” I nodded, hoping she would let it go. She gasped, and I knew better. “Why was there a hot and probably terrifyingly rich man in our bakery? And why did he seem like he knew you too?”

“He didn’t know me until you said my name.” I huffed. Was that true, though? Had he really not recognized me the way I had so instantly recognized him? It would’ve been different for him. I was a child the last time I saw him. He was twenty-one. He couldn’t have changed that much in seventeen years, but I definitely had.

“So you do know him!” My best friend bounced back and forth from one foot to the other, already excited about drama I didn’t want. She loved the excitement. “Spill.”

I sucked in a deep breath, letting it out with a loud groan before I took another one. “He was my older brother’s best friend. I haven’t seen him since Dickie died.” My throat tightened, and the familiar burn that came before tears stung my eyes. “Can we drop it now?”

Ava nodded, a sudden rush of sympathy covering her face. She stepped forward, placing her arms over my shoulders and pulling me towards her for a hug. “I just have to know one thing,” she said. I knew she wasn’t going to just drop it. “Is he dangerous? Should we feel threatened?”

“No, it’s fine.” I stared out the window into the dark street until a passing car pulled me from my sudden daze. “At least, I think it is.” I shrugged. I didn’t know much about Ronan Moretti, nothing more than him being from a pretty well-off family. I knew that he and Dickie used to sneak out late at night to drink beer they stole from my dad’s garage. I didn’t think he was sneaking around to drink beer anymore.

When I looked back at Ava, she looked shocked, maybe with a hint of fear. Her eyes were wide, and when she finally closed her mouth, she swallowed. “Do you think we should call someone?”

“Who are you going to call?” I folded my hands together, resting them in front of me and waiting for Ava to share her grand idea.

Slight panic bubbled to the surface, and she fidgeted. “I don’t know. The police, maybe?”

“Oh and tell them a man in a nice suit asked about the for lease sign in the window but wouldn’t buy a cupcake before he left?” It sounded as ridiculous out loud as it felt thinking it, but I couldn’t help but admit I had to swallow the same panic Ava was feeling. She scowled. “He’s gone. He’s not coming back. Don’t worry about it.”

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