Page 8 of The Grump

“It’s Xander LeBlanc.”

“Oh.” Her reaction told me that my grandmothers had already informed her of everything. “Come in.”

The place smelled like oranges and a lot of other things I couldn’t pinpoint. I’d never had a verydiscerningnose, as Isabeau would say.

I followed the sound of pans and whatnot until I came to what was obviously a kitchen. I immediately took stock of the six stoves. Only two were currently working.

“I’ll be finished with this right away,” Bailey said.

My eyes widened when I caught sight of her, surprised at how gorgeous she was. Her dark brown hair was in a lopsided ponytail. I couldn’t see the color of her eyes from here, but the shape of her mouth was exquisite.

Fuck! What has gotten into me?I didn’t normally notice things like that when I was inspecting a business.

“Okay, now it’s done.” She put the bowl down and straightened up. Her eyes were impossibly green.Is she wearing colored contacts?“I’m Bailey LeCarre. Your grandmothers said you were going to stop by but didn’t mention when.”

“I decided on a whim to come today.”

“As I said, it’s just me right now. Everyone else already left for the day.”

“At four o’clock?” I asked incredulously.

She narrowed her eyes. “They had errands to run. They didn’t just go home to rest.”

I’d clearly come on too strong. I didn’t want to antagonize her, but something about her was throwing me off my game.

She pointed to the bowl. “If you give me a few minutes, I’ll put this in the oven. Then we can talk and I can show you around.”

“Sounds good.”

“Do you want anything to drink? We prepare snacks for your grandmothers when they come by, but since I didn’t know...”

That was thoughtful. Isabeau and Celine loved snacks.

“I’m good. I’ll just wait for you to finish.”

I was having trouble keeping my eyes on hers instead of her mouth and... other parts of her body. She moved around efficiently, and only five minutes later, she shoved a trayful of pralines into the oven.

She turned around, giving a small smile. “I’m all yours.”

Fuck me!I could imagine her saying that sentence while lying in my bed—

What the hell?I had no idea what had gotten into me. Instant lust or attraction wasn’t part of my vocabulary. I was far too logical for that.

“What exactly did my grandmothers tell you?” I asked.

Her smile fell, and she held her arms out at her sides. “That you plan to sell this off.”

“This operation isn’t making a profit. You have to know that, right?”

“Yes, of course. But your grandmothers always insisted that this place wasn’t made to be profitable. I mean, we’re notsellingour products to anyone. It’s only used internally for business, or charity. How do you even measure profits in this case?”

It was a genuine question.

“Well, since there’s no income, I simply look at the costs and—”

“It would be cheaper if you just bought the pralines from somewhere else,” she finished for me.

“Exactly.”

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