How to Bake the Perfect Apple Pie (6 page)

I blink my eyes. “I wouldn’t mind going out for something to eat.” I raise an eyebrow at him.

“All right, I’ll take you out. How about Indian?”

I jerk my head back. “Mmm curry. Yes.”

Jack clicks on the blinker and we exit the highway. Does he even know where he’s going? This is only the second time he’s visited me and the last time was a pretty limited weekend. We picked up Chinese and went to breakfast, but that’s it for dining spots.

I cannot believe it. The car slows and Jack is pulling up in front of Mantras. One of my favorite Indian restaurants.

“How did you know about this place?” I scrutinize his face and stare directly at him. I want to pull the answers from his mind. How could he know?

“Good question, Lauren. I’m going to let you in on a secret, but you have to promise to keep it between the two of us.” He inspects me, waiting for a response.

This is silly. But I oblige. “Yes, I’ll keep it a secret.”

Jack leans in to my ear and whispers, “Google.”

My shoulders slump and I groan. I can’t roll my eyes back far enough. “Haha. Fine.”

I unbuckle my seat belt but before I can lift the handle on the door Jack is pulling it open.

“Come on, let’s experience an array of flavors.” Jack pulls me in close to him and kisses my lips. I almost melt. But it’s cold and though I’m heated, I’m not a puddle. Jack leads me to the restaurant and we enter through the dark door.

***

We’re back at my house and after my third glass of wine I run my eyes over Jack’s face. His eyes are full of worry. He looks exhausted.

“I don’t understand. Why you don’t hire a manager to replace Sherry?” I sip my wine.

Jack runs a hand through his blond hair. He takes a gulp of his wine and places it on my coffee table. “Lauren, would you consider coming back to Texas and helping me run Vintage Estates?”

I blink several times. After Sherry took off with all the money from Vintage Estates, and then some, I had helped Jack get things somewhat settled over Christmas. His Aunt Minnie had transferred a large sum of money to help get Vintage Estates sorted financially and I’d helped organize all of the accounts and bills. He had asked then if I would stay, but I told him I couldn’t because of my promotion and that was before he asked me to marry him.

“Jack…I can’t. I just started my new position. It would jeopardize everything I’ve been working towards to leave it.” I wipe a hair off my face.

He shakes his head. “I know, I’m sorry for asking. I just…it would make things so much easier if you were at my side.” Jack pulls me into his lap.

I bite my lip.
Shiat
. This is so difficult. My heart is screaming at me, telling me to say yes and rush off to help Jack and Vintage Estates. But my brain has thrown a big foot down and blared veto power music in my mind. Leaving my job right now would be career suicide. I can’t and won’t do it. It’s just not right. I owe my business-self more than just to rush off with some guy.
Argh
…but he isn’t just some guy…he’s Jack and we’re supposed to be getting married.

One of us will have to budge. One of us will have to move. Why shouldn’t it be me? I swallow. But why shouldn’t it be him?

“Listen, I really want to…but it just doesn’t make sense businesswise for me.” I bite the inside of my cheek. That was a really callous thing to say. “I mean…it would be suicide for my career.”

Jack leans forward and pours more wine into our glasses. He takes a long sip. “You’re right and I’m proud of you for not buckling. It might be the easiest option but it doesn’t mean it’s the right one. I’ll figure something out.” He puts his wineglass down on my coffee table and places his hand on the back of my head.

“
We’ll
figure something out. You’re not alone in this, Jack. This isn’t all on you. We’re a team now, right?”

He smiles at me. “Right.” Our lips meet and I’m being led away from my worries, away from the what-ifs and hows. Nothing is there, just bliss. Pure, deep, loving kisses. Kisses that roll a tidal wave of security over me and I’m going under.

Chapter Four

I take out the letter my grandmother sent me. She has sent me more letters than I can count over the years. This one is much different. It’s not like the one she wrote to me over Thanksgiving, where she gave me her prized pecan pie recipe asking for me to prepare it for our family’s dinner. No…this letter asks me to use her apple pie recipe as a base and figure out my own special recipe to enter in a contest. A CONTEST! I blink repeatedly. I am still having a hard time with this concept. Sure, everyone said my pecan pie was great over Thanksgiving, but they are my family and even if it wasn’t amazing they would still be complimentary of it.

But the annual Fourth of July apple pie contest? With real judges? And real bakers? Why would my grandmother want me to do this? Why not Megan? I let out a deep breath.

“So tell me about this contest.” Jack pulls me in close and kisses my neck. Cascades of shivers fall over my arms…as if I can think with his lips anywhere on my body!

“Um, my grand—”

Jack’s lips cover mine and our tongues swirl together. His hands are running up and down my body, gripping and tugging on all of my pleasure points. I’m unraveling into pure joy and we are standing in the spice aisle at my grocery store. I pull back and shake my head.

“Jack, we’re in public.” I eye him and give him a
please
look.

“True, but we’re alone in this aisle.” Jack pulls me close again and kisses me harder as if the seconds being away from my lips created a stronger desire. I meet each twist of his tongue with my own and run my hands over his back. I stop.

“Jack, seriously, let’s get our groceries and get out of here.” I turn my attention to the letter and examine the notes.

Jack grabs the letter with one hand and my fingers with the other. He guides me down the aisle and into the back of the store. He pushes us through the double doors that lead into the warehouse.

“Jack, what are you doing?” My eyes dart all around us. Jack positions me into an aisle of boxes.

“This.” Jack reaches behind my head and pulls me to his lips. Our mouths meet and our tongues dance a rapid swirling sensational samba. His hands are roaming all over my body as if he is trying to remember every curve so he can sketch me from memory. My insides are squeezing tight; my breathing is out of control. I’m falling into ecstasy and I don’t care where we are. The only thing I see is Jack: he’s in front of me, connected to me, circling me, with his every touch.

“Excuse me, you can’t be back here,” a voice calls out to us.

Jack moves me behind him. “Oh, sorry about that, we couldn’t find the cinnamon or anyone to help us, so I thought we would check your stockroom.”

“Uh, hon, cinnamon is in aisle three and it’s stocked.” The man clears his throat.

“Well then, off to aisle three we go.” Jack leads me out of the stockroom and into aisle three.

I laugh as we stand in front of the cinnamon. “Really?”

“Really what?” Jack peers down at me. He rubs his thumb over my chin. “Your lipstick is smeared; you should be more careful with the application.”

I shove his arm. He doesn’t move though. He grabs my hand and kisses each of my knuckles.

“Lauren, I can’t hold out much longer.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “This was you holding out?”

Jack bites my finger. “You don’t want to see me not holding out.”

I pull my hand away from him. “Maybe I do.” I toss my hair over my shoulder.

“Let’s get your ingredients.” Jack growls into my ear. Tingles swarm down my neck and over my shoulders like a firework exploding in the sky.

“Yes, let’s.” I scan the letter. We’ve got everything except the nutmeg and the apples.

I select an organic bottle from the shelf and toss it in our basket.

“I just need Granny Smith Apples.”

Jack’s eyes are dark with hunger. He whisks me into his arms and kisses me deeply before releasing me and I do my best to follow behind him to the produce section. My legs are wobbling from walking on a cloud of Jack’s love. He grabs a bag of Granny Smith apples and we head to the checkout, eager to get home.

***

I put the gear into park. I feel parked. Boxed in. Like a traffic grid on my life. Jack is back in Texas and I’m back at work. I’ve got to navigate my way through the day. I don’t want to have any intersections with Leena or Elaine. I need to have my first team meeting and plot out goals for Q1. This will be the first meeting that I’m leading and Javier is going to be listening in. This is of course something I’m really looking forward to,
except not really.

I click the remote on my car and stalk my way to the elevator. As I get closer, I notice the door is open. Being held open by a hand.

It’s Trent. “I saw you pull in and thought I would wait for you.”

“Already trying to kiss up to the boss?” I laugh.

Trent laughs. “Always better to be on the good side.”

“True enough.”

The door is about to close when a purse wedges its way in between the opening. “Please hold the door.”

It’s Elaine. I’d recognize that artificial sweetener anywhere. Trent hits the open door button and pries the two doors wide with his massive hands.

“Oh my, thank you. What big hands you have.” Elaine’s eyes travel from Trent’s hands and over his entire body. She could pass for a body-scanning machine at the airport. That was intense.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you coming.” Trent hits the five button.

Elaine laughs. “Oh sweetie, that was obvious.”

My eyes bug out. I’m sincerely hoping she is not filling this elevator with sexual innuendos.

“What floor are you on?” Trent’s hand hovers over the buttons.

“Same as you, I suppose. Are you one of the new guys from Lauren’s team?” Elaine surveys Trent and then me.

I interrupt. “Yes, Elaine Stevenson, this is Trent Riznor. He’s been at the company since May.”

“Interesting, I don’t recall seeing you around.” Elaine taps her lip.

“Probably because he is always at his desk.” I force the sides of my mouth up.

“Is this the one we disagreed about?” Elaine squints her eyes as if she is trying to remember.

I use every inch of my self-control to act unfazed. “Not sure what you mean, Elaine, but he was one of my top picks.” The elevator opens and I do not hesitate to exit.

“I bet he is.” Elaine cackles and follows behind me.

I’m glad my office is not far from the elevator and the opposite direction to Elaine’s.

I unlock the door and shut out any possible further interactions with Elaine.

At my desk I boot up my laptop and see a ton of emails. Everything from status reports I requested to several from my mom. She called one too many times over the weekend asking if we could video chat with Jack and go over wedding themes. Each time I gave a random reason as to why it wouldn’t work out. Mostly I wasn’t interested in planning the wedding. I wanted to focus all of my energy on enjoying every moment of Jack, not thinking about rustic weddings or sparkles and confetti.

I scan the bolded emails and begin printing out the ones including stats for everyone on my team. I’ve got about twenty minutes to prepare for the meeting. I’m wearing my crimson blazer, white blouse, and grey pencil skirt with matching grey pumps. I’ve read about red being a power color. Obviously, this is the perfect color choice for my first meeting.

The stack of papers behind me are ready for me to review. I select a few highlighters from my pen cup. It’s another present from my mom. A silly penholder that reads: “You’re on Point” and has a winking ballpoint pen. I shake my head. My mom finds the most outlandish gifts.

Knock. Knock. I eye the door. I’m assuming it’s Javier. And I’m hopeful it’s not Elaine or, even worse, Leena.

I stand up and make my way to the door. I turn the handle and it’s Trent.

“Hey.” I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Hey Lauren, I wanted to go over a few things with you before the meeting if that’s all right?” He taps on a stack of papers in his hand.

“Uh, okay.” I close the door behind him. I’m not sure if I should tell him I don’t have time to chat. I’m also a bit concerned about his forwardness in wanting to meet with me prior to our team meeting.

“I don’t mean to impose, but I went over everyone’s numbers this weekend to see the weaknesses and strengths and I was thinking maybe we could have a workshop of some sort for each person to offer up guidance about their strengths. That way we can grow as a team together, working together.” He sits down and slides the stack of papers to me.

I nod. “Okay, that sounds good. What did you find in your…research?” I eye the stack of papers. It’s similar to the ones I printed out but with not as much information. He doesn’t have the same access that I do. I swallow. Should I even be having this conversation?

“I made a positive and negative traits list on the second page.” He leans over my desk and points as he lifts the top paper. His cologne wafts over my nose. It’s like tobacco and hints of lavender. Very different from Jack’s.
Jack.
Who, if I had to guess, would not appreciate my nose so close to Trent’s cologne.

I lean back and pick up the second sheet of paper and read over the stats Trent has prepared. It’s a great breakdown of each of our team member’s positive and negative traits. I nod.

“This is really great. Thanks for preparing this for me.” The sides of my mouth pull up naturally. I’m almost wanting to push them into a straight line. Does he really want to better our team or does he have an ulterior motive? If it weren’t for Elaine and Leena I probably wouldn’t be this distrusting. But in business, you have to be so careful. Careful about other people’s intentions and what they are aiming for…

“You’re welcome. Like I said, just want to start off on a good foot with you.” He pushes back his chair and stands. He is like a giant in my small office. I stand as well. “Maybe we can get together over lunch and discuss some other things I was thinking about?” He taps my desk.

I eye his fingers. They are large. Like the rest of him. My eyes trail from his hand up to his face. His stare is on me. His gaze is not the same one Javier would give me or even Elaine for that matter. I’m not sure how to handle this. I would like to hear his other ideas, but a work lunch? Maybe if I bring along the other members of the team? To keep things professional.