Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
I rubbed the back of my neck. “What should I do about Yara?”
“Apologize. She’ll accept it.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“She will.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because she’s Yara. Holding grudges isn’t something she tends to do. Now, I have to get going. I have work to do before I come in for more work.”
“Tatiana?”
“Yes?”
“How did you learn my full name?” I questioned.
“I told you. I’m this town’s mother. And mothers always find out everything they need to know.”
“Right. Of course.”
“Do you know what Yara likes, Alex?”
“What’s that?”
“Cookies. Chocolate chip cookies.”
Right after Tatiana left, I got to work on my apology. I’d spent the next few days working out how to apologize to Yara for my cruelty over the past weeks. I was in way over my head with my emotions and took it out on one of the only people in town who were kind to me.
What bothered me the most was that my mind and body didn’t know how to act when I was around her. I went through a whirlwind of contradictory emotions when she was near me. I was stuck between loathing and wanting to kiss her until the sun faded. I hated the feeling of conflicting thoughts. It made my head hurt. I couldn’t have my head hurting when my heart was already jumbled.
Still.
Not her fault.
Friday evening was busy at Isla Iberia, and I was already figuring out how to go to Yara’s apartment to apologize after I locked up for the night. Or, well, I’d wait until morning to apologize, seeing as how I didn’t know her apartment number. Though I could’ve knocked on every door until I found it and—
“Chef? What’s this? Should it be tossed?” Sammy said, holding up a tray with desserts on it. “Is this on the menu?”
“What? No. Don’t toss it. Put it on a plate and in my office.”
Sammy smirked and looked down at the tray. “They look delicious.” He went to pinch a piece off.
“Don’t!” I ordered in a slight growl. “Get back to work!”
He shot his hand away from the tray and hurried away.
After he left, I decided to say screw it and try to catch Yara before she left her shop for the evening. Sure, I swore I’d never step foot in her store again, but that was when I was a mourning, rude jerk. I could pull myself together enough to admit defeat.
Yet before I could step foot out of the restaurant, it shocked me to walk into the dining area and see her sitting at the table closest to the display window.
Yara was in my restaurant.
She sat at one of my tables.
She wore a tight black dress with black high heels.
Her hair was pulled back into a slick, high ponytail.
Her lips were painted crimson.
She looked remarkable. The type of beautiful I hadn’t even known existed.
But what was she doing in my restaurant? Sitting at my table? Looking as nervous as ever.
My curiosity was strong enough for me to walk over to her table. This worked out well for me because it gave me a chance to apologize to her for the past few weeks of utter douchebag vibes I’d given her.
I knew I was grouchy, but I wasn’t that massive of a jerk.
As I moved toward her, my nerves were rocked upside down. Why did I feel like a little boy as I approached her table? Why did my palms feel sweaty and my chest feel tight? What in the world was this woman doing to me?
When I reached her, she studied her phone with such intensity that I almost felt bad for interrupting. I tried to think of some clever way to get her attention. I tried to figure out the best way to interject myself into her realm. Yet I only thought to say, “I guess you’re Bozo.”
CHAPTER 15
Yara
I rapidly placed my phone down as I heard Alex’s voice from behind me.
“Bozo?” I asked, looking up at him, biting back the tears in my eyes.
He gave me a tiny smile and shrugged. “The clown. You said only clowns would—”
“I know what I said,” I snapped, feeling shame over me. I rubbed my moistened hands against the fabric of my dress and tried to shake off my discomfort. “Listen, I’m not in the mood tonight for our opposite of fun banter.”
His eyes flashed with a softness I hadn’t seen from him before. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I was just trying to make a joke about—”
“Since when do we have a joking relationship, Alex?” I cut in.
Maybe if he had joked with me prior to that moment. Maybe if he had shown any signs of lightness in the past, I wouldn’t have been so shut off. But at that very moment, I felt he were almost mocking me. As if he knew what happened to me, and he walked over to my table to dig the knife in a little deeper.