One
ASTRID
“Are you sure Nicky can’t just hire you permanently?” Star asks, taking another bite of the lemon meringue pie I made. She is a hundred percent not kidding, and I adore her. She is my second-biggest fan behind my brother, and I love them both to pieces. They make me believe I might have a fighting chance out there in the world. Them and my best friend Cupid. Though he’s never actually tried my sweets before.
A lot of people think lemon meringue pie is a hard dessert to make, but it isn’t. Not to me, at least. I find one of the most valuable traits as a pastry chef is patience. You can’t rush perfection, and you can’t take your eyes off it either.
“I’ve appreciated the temp work, but finance really isn’t my passion.” I laugh. “You want my brother to hire me as his own personal pastry chef?”
“I mean, I’m sure I’ll be pregnant soon. I’ll need lots of sweets.” She goes for one of my eclairs next. She really does love everything I make. So much so that she had me make their wedding cake.
“This is how I pay my rent at the moment. I'm already kind of hired here,” I point out, motioning around the kitchen. The place looks like a dessert bomb exploded in it. I might be able to bake, but I always leave a messy trail behind me.
There isn't much counter space, which is ridiculous because while this kitchen might be a personal home one, it’s bigger than some people's apartments. I’ve completely taken over the kitchen at this point, and my brother has never minded before. Now I’m thinking that’s going to start to change. Not only has Star moved in with him, but they also got married a few weeks ago.
They’d only recently gotten back from their honeymoon, and I’m really starting to feel out of place. I don’t want to be their third wheel. I also don’t want them to have to sit me down and talk to me about finding my own space. That rejection would burn, and even knowing they would be right to ask for it, I don’t want it to get to that point.
When my brother Nick told me I could stay with him after I graduated culinary school, he’d been a workaholic that was never home. Things have most definitely changed in the short time since he found his Star. I love them together, but I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit I was a bit jealous of what they have.
Nick isn’t my blood brother. We grew up in the foster system together, and he always kept a close eye on me even when he’d aged out. He’s the only real family I have, and it’s scary to think it could slip through my fingers because he’s starting one of his own now.
I’m sure Star’s right, and in no time she’ll be pregnant because they can’t keep their hands off of each other. I want that so much for them, and they both deserve it, but I’m not sure where my place is anymore. I do know it’s not inside their home and I need to find a place of my own, along with a job.
“You don’t pay rent,” Nick says, entering the kitchen.
He goes straight for Star and kisses her long and hard on her mouth. I turn away from them, not wanting to intrude more than I already am.
“You taste delicious,” I hear him say. I start to slip from the kitchen, but my brother calls me back. “You don’t need to go.” He smiles my way, which is something he does more often now.
“I actually do. I need to get ready for my interview. I promise I’ll clean up when I get back.”
“It’s fine, you know that,” Nick tries to reassure me.
“I’ll see you guys later.” I give them a little wave before I head back toward my bedroom to get ready for my interview—my very first interview. I still haven't told my brother who the interview is with. I danced around the question when he asked once before.
I don’t know why because I’m sure he’ll find out soon enough. I think part of me doesn’t want him to try and pull strings to help me get the job. I want to get it because I’m good at what I do and not because Q is one of my brother’s friends. In fact, I had no idea who he was until recently when I’d formally met him at my brother's wedding.
He sought me out when he found out I made the cake that night, though I’d felt his eyes on me before that. I don’t know how I ended up with an interview. I’d been a babbling mess when he sat down next to me and complimented my cake.
He invited me to his restaurant, saying they needed help with their desserts, something they are in dire need of with Valentine's Day around the corner. I bet he regretted the invitation a few seconds after he gave it to me. I went and spilled my drink right in his lap when his eyes locked with mine.
I’d been thrust back in time to when I was a thirteen-year-old girl. His dark blue eyes were the same as Austin’s, my first crush. He was the boy I could never forget even all these years later. It was like he was right there again, stealing the air out of my lungs like he always did when I was a little girl.
It’s crazy because Q looks nothing like my Austin except for his eyes. Although Austin’s were usually hidden behind glasses more often than not. He was a bit dorky and the only boy that didn’t tower over me. He was different from all the others, and I think that’s why I crushed so hard on him.
Now Q Hart is bigger than life. The man is probably two feet taller than me and is known for his beautiful restaurants. He’s also known for being one of the hottest and most eligible bachelors in the city. Or so I read online after I did a bit of stalking. He might not be Austin, but even I couldn’t deny the man was dang hot. I was surprised by my attraction to him, but it was there.
Q shot up from his seat after I spilled my drink and went to clean himself up. I all but fled the wedding, thankful that my brother couldn’t keep his hands off his new bride and left his own party early. I was surprised when he reached out to me to lock down when I’d be coming in. I’m not sure what I’ll be doing, but my plan is to take a handful of desserts with me for him to try. I might be a bit of a mess at times, but I know how to bake. It’s the one thing I’m good at.
When I was little and got the chance to use the kitchen, I’d pretend I was baking for my husband and children and spoiling them all with my treats. It was my way of playing make believe. In those rare moments, I got to fall into a fantasy of having a family of my own. I’d always take my extras and give them to Austin. Until he went and moved away.
I pause in the mirror when I’m done getting ready, realizing I might have let myself fall into the fantasy once more. In my little pink cardigan and long skirt, I look like I've dropped out of the nineteen fifties.
I pull out my phone, planning to take a picture to send to Cupid when I see I already have a text from him.
Cupid: Good luck, sweets.
I love when he calls me sweets. He’s been doing that since we bumped into each other on an online cooking website years ago. We started talking in the comments on the website Cupid’s Love of Sweets, which was his blog.
Soon it turned to emails then texts, and I’ve been crushing on him from the start. He flirts but never takes things further. I even sent him a few pictures lately, hoping he’d send one back, but no luck. How am I half in love with a man who I’ve never actually seen? But that doesn’t matter to me. No one knows me better than Cupid. Years of texts and emails have made us more than friends, or at least that’s how I feel.