We went over many of the other items we’d need for the event. I had confirmations from five vendors by the time Leo pulled the car in front of a white two-story house in a quiet suburban neighborhood. There were colorful flowers lining the walkway up to the house.
I set my tablet down on my lap and angled myself in my seat. “We don’t have to be enemies.”
“You’re the one who started things off this way. You’re trying to steal the account for yourself.”
My jaw hung open. “I’m...It’s…”
“You think I didn’t hear all your ‘I’ talk? Or how you keep trying to shove everything down my throat to get your way.”
“I need this to go well. I need my job. This is my one shot to prove myself. I have bills and responsibilities.
“Plus, I wasn’t the one who slammed into me, spilling coffee all over my clothes, stepped on my one chocolate croissant, and offered it to me from the bottom of a shoe.” I jammed my tablet into my bag, dreading how much a taxi would cost back to the city. Maybe I could take one to the closest train station instead. That would be cheaper.
A small knock broke through the seething tension in the car.
Leo looked over his shoulder and his entire demeanor changed. He opened the door and a small voice filled the interior.
“Leo, you’re here! You’re here!” A little girl with big black curls under a conductor’s hat jumped onto his lap, wedging herself between the steering wheel and his chest.
I stared at her and back at him. Did he have a daughter? There wasn’t a resemblance. We hadn’t delved into anything personal, but wow, I’d have thought he’d have mentioned it. Not like I’d given him much of an opportunity.
“Teresa Amelia Asher.” A man with thick-rimmed Clark Kent glasses stood at the top of the steps with a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder. “What did I tell you about leaving this house?”
The little girl who looked no more than four jutted her bottom lip out. “Sorry, Jamie.”
He came down the steps with a big smile.
Confusion whirled in my head. Who the hell was he? Who was she? Was Leo gay? Was this Leo’s boyfriend or husband? Mind bombs were exploding left and right.
Leo climbed out of the car with Teresa. “Happy birthday, Birthday Girl.”
She laughed and giggled as he blew raspberries into her neck.
I sat in the car. I had so many questions, smoke was probably rising from my ears.
Leo ducked down through the open doorway with Teresa’s arms wrapped around his neck. “You coming or what? I can drop you off back home once we’re finished here.”
“Sure.” I needed answers; I couldn’t have stayed away.
“You must be Zara.” He covered his laugh with a cough into his fist. “Leo’s told us all so much about you.”
“Us? Yes, I’m Zara. And you are?”
“Jameson.”
He ushered us all into the house and I took everything in in wide-eyed fascination, not wanting to pry, but dying to know what was going on. This was the meeting Leo had to get to? Somehow, it made his adamancy that we not debrief right after our presentation less annoying. I knew all about not wanting to let down people who were important to you.
Inside, there were two other guys, each armed with baking staples. Chocolate, flour, sugar, baking pans, vanilla. Everything was out all over the countertops. A heady punch of testosterone filled the room. It was like an Avengers poster, but they were all wearing regular clothes and somehow hotter when sprinkled with flour.
Leo swung around like he was looking for something. “Zara, I want to introduce you to someone. Where’s Teresa?”
The little girl in his arms giggled and tapped him on the shoulder. He jerked like she’d appeared out of nowhere. “This is our conductor extraordinaire and birthday girl Teresa.”
I held onto the strap of my bag and shot them a small wave. “Hi, Teresa. Happy birthday, I’m sorry I didn’t get you a present.”
He’d been in a hurry not to miss her birthday. The last of my simmering anger was zapped away. From how wide her smile was, Leo was important to her and he’d shoved aside his other responsibilities to be there for her. Finally, something we could relate to.
“You can help with my cake. It’s the only present I asked for.” She beamed. Leo set her down and she ran off to a trunk beside the couch and pulled out a wooden train.
“Guys, this is Zara.”
“Zara, this is August and Everest.” He said the second name like a swallowed curse. “And you’ve already met Jameson.” Each one waved when Leo said their names.
Everest had on a blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His black hair made his striking blue eyes stand out even more. And from the way he and Leo kept glaring at one another, he was The Nemesis.
“Your ring is so pretty.” Teresa grabbed my hand and rubbed her finger over the stone. “You’re engaged.” With everything going on, I’d been distracted from the engagement ring strangling my finger. Strange how quickly that had happened.
“Yeah, today.” I laughed, but no one else did. The air had been sucked out of the room.
August with the tousled brown hair and deep green eyes, which skittered over the ring. So, Mr. Commitment, he wasn’t. The ring seemed like his kryptonite—he couldn’t even look directly at it.
Their gazes bounced from me to Leo.
He stepped in front of me waving his hands. “Not now. Not ever. It’s stuck on her finger. We had a few things to go over, so Zara had to ride over with me.”
There was an exchange of skeptical looks, but everyone went back to their spots in the kitchen.
“Teresa, are you sure you don’t want a smiley face cake or a sun cake?” Jameson with the glasses leaned out of the kitchen doorway.
“I want Thomas the Tank Engine,” she singsonged, and sat down at the center of an elaborate wooden train track set.
“Of course you do.” Jameson and the rest of the guys ducked back into the kitchen.
Teresa seemed totally content with her trains and the door was locked with the top chain on.
I slipped into the kitchen where all the action was taking place. “Can I help?”
Jameson looked up from the tablet on the counter, playing through a cake decorating tutorial. “Do you have any experience making a 3D Thomas the Tank Engine cake? It says we need dowels. Anyone have dowels?”
Leo patted himself down before snapping, “Damn, I left them in my other pants.”
The sink was already overflowing with dishes, abandoned batter in bowls, and utensils, even though from as far as I could tell, nothing had made it into the oven.
Everest followed my gaze and his cheeks pinked up. “We had some a slight confusion with the salt and the sugar on the last batch of batter.”
So The Nemesis wasn’t a good baker.
“Twice.” Jameson held up his fingers. “Two times.”
“What? No culinary expertise from the help growing up, Master van Konig?” Leo bowed with a flourish.
“F—” Everest peered out the open kitchen doorway, substituting the words for a double barrel single finger salute.
“I’m happy to clean dishes.” Lifting my non-ring ladened hand, I broke into the volley of barbs and banter. They were all so comfortable and at home with each other, enough to insult and tease. I’d never had a group of friends like this before. Growing up had all been about keeping my head down and not drawing attention to myself.