Chapter Seven
1322 Words
Chapter Seven
Adalia stood in the vast kitchen and stared at the clock on the wall. Trent usually came in at around nine in the morning and it was five minutes until then.
They’d been working together for a week now and she’d done her best to avoid him, but he’d made it increasingly difficult.
He came into the kitchen and talked to her when she was in the middle of a task. He discussed business with her. He laughed and joked around with the other kitchen staff, all the while shooting her the ‘look’.
It was incredibly difficult to resist that look. The same expression she’d witnessed the night they’d made love for the first time. That deep desire for her, slathered across his face like sunscreen.
“You okay?” Jenny stood nearby, rolling out some pastry for an apple crumble.
“I’m fine, fine. Glad to have you on board.” Her concession had been that she chose who worked in her kitchen. He’d agreed and had chosen the staff for the front only.
So far, business had streamed in and they’d been stacked with orders. It excited her, but it made her jealous at the same time. If only she’d managed to make her bakery work this way.
“I’m so glad that you’re back doing what you love. I heard you were at one of the markets a short while ago, but I didn’t want to pop in and visit.”
Adalia reached over and squeezed Jenny’s shoulder. “Thank you.” She’d have been mortified if her old employee had witnessed her in a position like that. She’d never had as much fun quitting a job in her entire life.
The kitchen was alive with activity. Bakers hurried back and forth, creating treats and cakes. The aromas made her mouth water, but she was too preoccupied to even snatch a bit of icing or a taste of apple filling.
“Big orders today again, we’d better be on our toes.” Adalia walked over to the oven and made sure it was at the right temperature. “Looks like we’ll be catering for weddings soon.”
“That’s fantastic news,” Jenny replied, wiping her forehead with the back of her arm and smearing flour across it.
“I think so,” Trent said, strolling into the kitchen. “Though I’ve yet to discuss it with you, Adalia.”
“When were you planning on it?” She punctured him with the question, poured every ounce of confidence into her being and stared at him head on.
“Right about now, actually.” Trent indicated the office door nearby, but Adalia shook her head.
“There’s too much to do for me to stop now.” She took out a massive batch of cookie dough to illustrate her point.
Jenny coughed into her elbow and moved her pastry further down the bench, avoiding their conversation.
Trent opened and closed his mouth several times, then laughed. “That’s fine, we can discuss it here. In fact, do you need some help with anything? We’ve got customers streaming in already. The cashiers can barely keep up.”
“Trust me, I’m well aware,” Adalia said, elbow deep in dough. “Grab me that tray.”
He circled around the bench and got it for her, then plonked it on the counter. He brushed past her, pressing himself against her a*s and she drew in a sharp breath. There was too much history between them, but there was also too much heat.
“You don’t want to discuss the catering, now?”
“I –”
“Because we can always discuss it over dinner, if you’d feel more comfortable.”
“No, that’s all right, we can discuss it now,” she said as quickly as she could. She took out the cookie cutter, and rued the fact that she hadn’t insisted on an automated one. She plopped a big helping of the dough onto the counter and grabbed a rolling pin.
“I’ve got plenty of compliments on the quality of our products.” Trent brushed off his suit and smiled at her. “I’m proud of the team we’ve got back here, you included.”
“Thanks. Though it’s mostly them more than it is me.” She gestured to the other staff. There were people mixing, baking, rolling, kneading and it was a sight she’d dreamed of when she’d started out.
“We both know that’s not true. You’re at the helm and I’m proud of you, Adalia.”
“Thanks,” she repeated, and heat climbed up her neck and into her cheeks. “I’m really focused on making the quality outdo the quantity, though. I don’t know how that fits in with catering for weddings.”
“We’ll increase the size of the team when it comes to that. Maybe build another team to deal with the catering side while you run the kitchen. Or you could run the catering side.”
“Hire more staff?” She shook her head. “That’s your solution to everything, isn’t it?
“What are you talking about?” Trent leaned in, conspiratorial, another excuse to get in close.
“When there’s a problem, you don’t work through it. You just throw some more money at it until it goes away.”
Trent straightened. “I throw money, focus, attention, hard work and everything else at it. It’s called business, Adalia.”
“That was a low blow,” she retorted.
His eyes widened. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Whatever, we’ll discuss this later. I’m busy now.” She turned her back on him. There was pressure against it a second later, and his hot breath feathered across the skin of her neck.
Jenny’s eyes widened and she hurried off, yelling orders to the other workers. Everyone else continued with their usual duties, ignoring the spectacle of Trent pressed up against her.
“I suggest you make your way over to the office, now,” he murmured into her ear and goose bumps ran down her neck and spine. She pushed her a*s into him, unable to resist and he grunted his surprise.
“Fine,” she replied then slid out of his reach. “But let’s make this a quick chat, because I’ve got work to do.”
“After you,” he said, gesturing to the office. Its windows had blinds, and there was plenty of room for privacy, but she still hesitated. “What are you afraid of?”
That spurred her on. She wasn’t scared of anything, let alone a talk with Trent Dawson.
“Nothing.” Adalia marched toward the office, opened the door and went over to the chair behind the desk. She sat down at her leisure, then crossed her legs and waited. The door closed shut behind her, and her pulse quickened. The blinds slid down to cover the windows and her heart beat a mile a minute.
“Finally, a minute alone with you.” He stood beside her chair, but she didn’t shift her gaze from the other side of the office.
“You going to sit down so we can talk?”
“Only if you sit on my lap.”
“What?!”
Trent burst out laughing and circled to the other chair, then settled into it. “I’m kidding, of course, but you’re sure fun to toy with.”
“Yeah, you would know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His brow wrinkled, but she didn’t take it back.
“You’ve played me for a while, Trent, I’m used to your tricks. If you think you’re going to get into my pants under the ruse of talking catering, then you are sorely mistaken, my friend.” She rapped her knuckles on the desk. There was an image of the Golden Gate Bridge hanging on the wall, one Trent had taken on a business trip.
Her certification was on the opposite wall, and the potted plant in the corner gave the office a serene atmosphere. It was ruined by the sweltering heat between them.
Adalia was aroused in spite of her words. The thought, the mere hint, of doing anything with him in the office while everyone else was out there carrying on with work as usual drove her wild.
“I’ve never gone out of my way to hurt you. I’ve done the opposite in fact,” he said, then smacked his lips. “But I won’t lie, I still want you. I still think of you every night.”
“Trent, don’t say that, I can’t handle it.”
He rose and came around to her again, then dropped down on his knees in front of her.
“I want to taste you.”
- Writer
