Page 82 of Lovesick
Once I finished, Immanuel pulled the contract back. Then he gave me a check for compensation for the tests and the last five desserts I’d brought in. He also handed me a book with a copy of all their super-secret recipes created in the years before his gluten issue developed.
A half smile crossed Immanuel’s face. “Welcome to the team, JJ. You’re our first official overflow baker. We’ve already had an order of croissants and pain au chocolat come in for a local business meeting with realtors. Information is in the email I’ll send after you leave.”
“Thanks, guys.”
“Expect delivery tomorrow afternoon!” Immanuel called as I headed out the door. I waved to acknowledge it, but my mind was already spinning. How would Mark feel about me signing a contract on behalf of Adventura? He was the official owner. While I’d helped, the camp was in his name.
He’d certainly had plenty of crazy ideas of his own that I’d gone along with. He probably wouldn’t care.
I hoped.
* * *
“Everything go okay with your sister?”
Lizbeth nodded with a tight smile as she climbed into the truck. I almost invited her to sit next to me again, but she quickly put her seat belt on and looked straight ahead, her hands under her thighs and her lips pressed together in a thin line.
Somethinghadn’t gone well.
“Good,” I said for lack of anything else.
The engine roared as I pulled away from the café and headed down the highway and into the canyon. My concern over the café deal faded in the uncomfortable silence. My inability to read Lizbeth was a heady reminder that, for all my happy feelings about her, we still didn’t know each other that well.
“Were you glad to see her?” I asked just to break the ice.
She cleared her throat. “Yeah. It’s always good to catch up. I’ve missed her.”
“You’re close.”
She nodded.
Quiet fell over us again. I let it ride this time, unsure of what to say or how to ask what it meant. I’d forgotten how awkward relationships could be. Forgotten about the battle between what I wanted to say and what was probably safe to say. Then again, I could always channel my inner Mark and just say whatever the hell I wanted.
Sometimes that actually worked out for him, but I blamed ninety percent of his relationship failures on his mouth.
Instead, I let the silence accompany us back to Adventura.
We pulled in, and Lizbeth didn’t look at me when she said, “I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll go to bed. Thanks for the ride, JJ. I appreciate the chance to talk to Ellie.”
Before I could tell her to sleep well, she shut the door and walked around the outside of the office to head to her cabin. I stared at the dark spot where she’d disappeared. A heavy feeling told me something wasn’t right.
Shaking my head, I pushed that off. Mark and I had unfinished business to deal with now. I’d focus on that first.
* * *
Mark was sitting behind his desk, a perplexed expression on his face, when I stepped inside.
“Seriously, JJ, when did the office start tosmellgood?” he asked.
No papers or office supplies were scattered across his workspace. Not even three different pens and four colors of highlighters. He looked totally out of place in the clean landscape. The wood of the desk, which had been hidden beneath the layers of dust he’d allowed to collect, had turned out to be cherry. Now, it gleamed a gorgeous red.
“When Lizbeth started.” I peeled my coat off. “She lights a candle thing all the time.”
Mark glanced at my jacket as I hung it on a peg—a whittled bear—that had appeared on the wall one day after lunch. It had kept our chairs blessedly unburdened. They didn’t topple over quite as much.
“Oh,” he said as if he’d also just noticed that peg. “Where is she?”
“Just went to bed.”
