Neighbors (Twin Estates #1) (6 page)

“
You what!?
”

Katya yanked her cell phone away from her ear, wincing. Tori's normal speaking voice was loud, but when she got excited, she really went for being heard in the back of the room.

“Keep it down! I'm still at work,” she hissed, glancing around the tiny break room.

Of course, no one had cared that she was late – Katya had never, ever been late, the entire time she'd been working there. She was also head baker,
and
highly sought after, at that. After a prominent magazine had featured her culinary skills, her appointment book had been full. Wedding cakes by Katya Tocci had to be booked a year in advance, other events at least three months. She could show up to work high on meth, and as long as she made a perfect sugar rose, she wouldn't get fired.

“I know, I know, but still, I cannot get over this! You had sex with some random dude, in some random club! This is AMAZING!” her roommate insisted.

“He wasn't random, I knew who he was. Kinda. Sorta,” Katya tried to make it sound better.

“Oh, whatever, don't try to downplay it, you little slut. It's great! I cannot wait to hear all the dirty details.”

“I'm not -”

“You
are
, and you're gonna tell me everything. Length, girth, which hole, how many times.”

“Oh jesus. I can't believe you weren't even worried when I didn't come home.”

“I knew where you were.”

“You did!?”

“Uh, yeah, you texted me about A MILLION times, don't you remember?”

“No. I told you, I don't remember anything from about midnight on.”

“Yeah, you were telling me about how fucking hot he is, and how good he gave it to you, and about how it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would,” Tori prattled off. Katya felt another bout of nausea sweep over her.

“Still. What if after the amazing sex, he'd taken me home to rape and murder me?” she pointed out.

“Oh, he took the phone from you after you started messaging gibberish. Sent me his address and phone number, just in case. He's one of the good ones, you can tell. When are you gonna see him again?”

A jingling noise came from the front of the store. The bell over the front door, meaning a customer had just come inside.
Saved by the bell
. Katya took a deep breath and smoothed her hand over her apron.

“I gotta go, customer is here,” she whispered.

“You can't hide from me!
Everything!
I want to know everything when you get home!”

Katya didn't bother with goodbye, she just hung up the phone and took a couple deep breaths. She glanced in a small mirror and cringed again. She hadn't bothered with blowing out her hair, but had just slicked it all up into a high bun while it had still been wet. Now that it was dry, it was starting to frizz up around the crown of her head. She was wearing the barest amount of makeup, just enough powder to kill the zombie look she was rocking.

She'd never been into wearing the whole chef's jacket and pants, usually opting for a pin striped apron and a smock. But that day, she'd barely managed the apron, and was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, ballet flats, and a loose blouse. Maybe normal clothing for other people, but unheard of for her. She could just imagine her mother's reaction at seeing her dressed that way, in public, at her job.

Her parents were very proper people.

But shitty clothing and hangover be damned – she had a job to do. She took a deep breath and pushed her way through the double doors that led to the sales floor. Normally, she almost never went on the floor, unless it was to meet a client. But the counter clerk was on her lunch break, one of the assistant bakers was on a delivery, and the other was on vacation. Katya was on counter duty till the other girls returned.

“Hello, welcome to Fondants!” she chirped pleasantly, though she could hear how scratchy her voice sounded. Whether it was from the hangover, or from Liam making her scream his name, she couldn't be sure. She took another deep breath and fanned at her face as she turned to look around the shop.

The place looked empty at first glance, but then she saw him. A man was standing in the corner with his back to her, in front of a display of cupcakes, and he was talking into a cell phone. The bell above the door jingled again and Katya turned to smile at the customer who came walking in, but she was again ignored. It was a young woman who was dressed in a smart suit and skirt, and she didn't even look at Katya, just made a beeline for the man in the corner. She stood next to him, leaning in close to say something softly, then she stood back and fiddled around on a tablet.

Wondering whether or not she'd actually be needed, Katya busied herself with checking over the racks in the display case. She didn't usually bother with the donuts and pastries and croissants, but she had to keep herself busy. If she didn't, her mind would wander back to her activities from the night before, and then she'd blush like an idiot for the rest of the day.

Bad enough that I'm having trouble walking normal, don't need to be red in the face, as well.

She was pulling one of the racks out of the case, determined to change out the croissants that she just knew were stale, when the strange couple finally turned around and came to the counter.

“
Angel food cake.
”

Katya almost dropped the entire rack. It wasn't like it was really her nickname, but still. She would never be able to hear those words again and not remember Liam whispering them while he touched her.

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” she asked through gritted teeth while she worked to get the rack back into the case.

“Cupcakes,” the man said. “Do you make angel food cake cupcakes?”

“We could, sure. What were you thinking?” she finally got the display back to rights and she stood upright, brushing her hands against her apron as she turned to face the front.

“I was thinking I'd like a couple dozen.”

Katya froze as she stared into a pair of very blue eyes. She flicked her eyes to the other woman, but that girl was still looking at her tablet, moving a stylus back and forth across the screen. So Katya looked back at the man.

Holy shit, how long has it been? Eight years? Nine?

“You do speak English, don't you?”

Hmmm, not long enough to forget he's a total asshole
.

Katya knew him, or at least, she used to – he'd grown up in the house next door to her, their families had been loose acquaintances. He was about six years older than her, though, so they'd never been friends. Not that they would have been even if they'd shared a birthday – he'd always been a jerk. Smarter than everyone else, richer than everyone else, more talented than anyone else. A gifted swimmer, there'd been talk of him going on to Olympic trials, but he'd pursued a college career instead.

He'd never paid any attention to Katya and her friends, or any of the other kids in the neighborhood, even the ones his age. He'd always been aloof. Snobbish. When she'd been fourteen, she'd taken a job babysitting his little sister for the entire summer. She hadn't realized he'd be home for the whole time, as well. No matter how rude he was to her, no matter how selfish or thoughtless, she couldn't help the small crush she'd developed. He had just been too good looking, and her bedroom had overlooked his pool. Watching him swim everyday hadn't been a burden at all.

She wondered if he still swam.

“Yes,” she finally answered. “I'm sorry, I don't normally work the counter.”

“That is unfortunate. I was hoping to deal with the manager, or at the very least, someone professional,” he sighed. Katya felt her feathers getting ruffled.

“I'm head baker here, sir. Anything you need, I assure you, I'm the person to help you with it,” she informed him.

“So you can make my cupcakes for me?” he asked.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On when you need them. I have a waiting list,” she said.

“You have a
waiting list?
”

“Yes. If you'd like me to make them, I can have them to you in roughly three months. But if you'd prefer for one of the intern bakers to make them, I'm sure they could get something together in a couple days,” she said. Normally, she never would've spoken of her coworkers that way, but he'd pissed her off.

“A wait list,” he chuckled, rubbing at the side of his jaw. His very smoothly shaven jaw. Katya refused to be taken in by his good looks again and looked away from that jaw. Into his disgustingly blue eyes.

“I'm sorry, but I'm very busy today. If you'd like to look at my portfolio, I can give you our website, or I can you give you the phone numbers of some other very good bakeries,” she offered, moving to grab a card from the counter top.

“No, no, three months is fine. We're having a party in about five months time, so if you think you can pencil me in, that would be great,” he said.

Katya got him an order form, and while his assistant filled it out, he prattled off some details, what kind of design he wanted, other desserts he might be interested in ordering. The whole time, his eyes wandered over the display cases, or his phone, or his assistant's tablet. He hardly even looked at her, and certainly didn't recognize her. Didn't even ask for her name. By the end of the exchange, Katya was ready to shoot fire from her nostrils.

A whole summer I practically lived at his house. Fetched him food and drinks at his every command, and he doesn't even fucking remember me.

“I think that'll be it. My assistant will be in touch if we need to add anything else to the order,” he said as they wrapped everything up.

“You have until four weeks before the delivery date to change your order – after that, we charge a fee. One week before, no changes allowed. We'll expect a deposit on your order in the next week. No refunds for cancellations,” she said, handing her card over to the silent assistant.

“Sounds good. We'll be in touch about the deposit.”

And with that, he walked out of the bakery. No goodbye, no thank you, no nothing. The assistant followed in his wake, still poking at her tablet. The door slammed shut behind them, jingling the bell.

“Prick,” Katya muttered, resting her elbows on the counter and massaging her fingertips against her forehead. The bell above the door sounded again and before she could stand upright, she heard quick footsteps moving across the floor.

“Hi,” Katya started. “Welcome to ...”

Her voice trailed off as she watched the smartly dressed assistant hurrying towards her at a clipped pace. The other woman was tiny, even in her heels, and she had to stretch to reach her arm over the display case. She had a card pinched between her fingers and Katya tentatively took it.

“Mr. Stone said to meet him here at seven o'clock,” she said in a sharp voice. Katya stared down at the card. It was simple, all white, and had a restaurant's name written on the back of it.

“I'm sorry … what?” Katya was confused as she flipped the card over, taking in the impressive name and even more impressive job title.

“Seven o'clock. Sharp – Mr. Stone does not like to be kept waiting,” the assistant said, then started moving back towards the door.

“What's going on?” Katya demanded. “Is this about the order? I don't meet clients outside of work hours.”

“No, Ms. Tocci,” the assistant replied, shocking Katya. She'd never said her last name. “This is not about the order. Seven, sharp. Please don't be late.”

Katya stared at the door, long after the assistant had disappeared through it. Long after the black town car had pulled away from the curb.
Ms. Tocci
. The assistant had known her name. Known it because someone must have told her what it was, someone who'd known Katya. Someone who'd remembered her, after all. She finally shook her head and looked back down at the card. The Stone Agency was embossed big bold letters at the top. An address was at the bottom in regular print. In between the two was a name, with the letters “CEO” after it. A name she hadn't heard in almost a decade.

Wulfric Stone.

Katya left work early in order to go home and figure some shit out. She wanted nothing more than to sit in the bottom of a shower and decompress, maybe take a nap, but she was in for a surprise when she walked through the front door. Tori was sitting at their kitchen table.

“What are you doing home?” Katya asked. Her roommate shrugged while she flipped through a magazine.

“Took the day off. Had to mentally prepare for our girl's night in tonight,” she teased.

“Don't get too prepared,” Katya groaned as she dropped into a seat. She winced upon contact with the wood, then immediately blushed.

“Why not? You have to spill. Look at you! You look like a lobster!”

“I know, but … I think I might have a date tonight,” Katya said.

“Wow! Mr. Sex Club must have really given it to you good!” Tori laughed.

“Ummm … it's not with Mr. Sex Club.”

“Holy shit! Don't tell me you're a sex addict now.”

“I'm not.”

“Another guy from the Eros dating site?”

“No.”

“Then who?”

Katya took a deep breath.

“Some guy from back home. It's not really a date, I don't think. He came into the bakery, and I thought he was just some asshole who didn't recognize me, but then snooty-pants-assistant-lady came back in, and she told me seven o'clock sharp, and -” she began to explain, talking in one big rush. Tori finally held up her hand.

“Wait, wait, wait. Let me get the wine, then we're gonna start from scratch.”

Katya didn't drink anything, but she did tell Tori about the sex club. About having sex with Liam, though she left out the explicit details. Gave a run down of her morning and being at work, then told all about her meeting with the mighty and powerful Wulfric Stone. She gave a bit of the backstory on her previous relationship with Wulf – i.e., being a stupid teenager with a crush on the jerk guy from next door, and him being a jerk guy who'd never given her the time of day.

              “So you see,” Katya sighed, glancing at her watch. “His assistant told me to meet him at this restaurant downtown, at seven. I looked it up, it's super fancy and exclusive, I'll be shocked if we even get a table.”

“Well, if he's as rich as all these websites claim, then it probably won't be a problem,” Tori mumbled. She'd gotten her laptop out and had already googled Wulf's name.

The Stone Agency owned large chunks of San Francisco. He also had other companies and other realty businesses, owning property in Los Angeles and Beverly Hills and Malibu and Orange County and just about every other rich California town that came to mind. Beyond that, there were articles about investments and possible shell corporations. Wulfric Stone was a very, very wealthy man.

“Why does he want to have dinner?” Katya asked.

“Maybe he could smell the sex-kitten-vibe rolling off you,” Tori suggested.

“I was only a sex kitten for about six hours last night,” Katya said.

“So. Counts, and men like this, they can always smell it.”

“Stop saying smell, it sounds gross.”

“Who cares, Kat? You're meeting a guy you used to have a major hard on for, and you're not the little brat next door anymore. You're a successful, bright, sexy young woman who is coming into her sexual peak, apparently. Go eat dinner on his dime, see what he wants, and if he's halfway nice to you, boff his brains out,” Tori said. Katya started to laugh, but then it died away.

“What about Liam what's-his-face?” she asked.

“What about him?”

“I don't know … are we dating? Was that a date last night? I mean, I can't have sex with him last night, then go on a date with a new guy tonight … can I?”

“Babe, you can do
whatever
you want. I always wondered why you had so many rules for yourself. Did Liam ask you out again?” Tori asked.

“Well … no,” Katya was honest.

“Okay. Did he get your number?”

“No.”

“Has he had sex with other women in that club?”

“I got the impression he had, yeah.”

“So then no harm, no foul. You're not his girlfriend. Go out with this Wulf guy tonight, who knows, maybe all he wants to talk about is cake. Maybe he wants to eat you out like you're made of cake.”

“I'm seriously going to be sick if you keep talking like that.”

“Either way, you're not tied down or committed to anything, so why not have fun?”

Going out to meet Wulfric Stone didn't exactly sound like Katya's idea of “fun”, but she found herself getting ready anyway. Her hangover was still lurking in the back of her brain, but she downed three extra strength Tylenol and pounded a beer at Tori's suggestion, then dug a decent outfit out of her closet. A skirt short enough to show off her legs, which she thought were pretty nice, but demure enough to be appropriate for a business dinner. Another flowy blouse on top, covering up her arms to balance out the amount of skin showing on her legs.

Then she got in her second shower of the day and scrubbed every inch of her skin. Shaved all the pertinent parts of her body, because obviously, one needed to be squeaky clean for a “business dinner”. After she'd lotioned up, giving her olive-tinted skin a shine, she finally pulled her hair up into a loose, rounded bun, then worked on her make up. She preferred a mostly natural look, light pink gloss on her lips, long delicate lashes, shimmer on her cheeks and eyelids.
Fresh faced,
that's what she called it. But when she was done, she wondered if she looked a bit …
young
.

“What do you think?” she asked as her roommate came into her bedroom. The other girl dipped down, looking in the mirror as well.

“Cute. You're so adorable with those beautiful eyes,” Tori teased, blowing kisses at their reflection.

“But I don't want to be adorable. I want to be sexy,” Katya said.

“It is sexy – just in a different way. Your look, it's like … you kinda … when you look as cute and innocent as you do, it makes men want to dirty you up. Defile you,” Tori said.

Hmmm, certainly did the trick last night.

So at seven o'clock on the dot, she found herself standing in the entrance to Mirage restaurant, looking around for the mysterious Mr. Stone. She paced from one wall to the other, tapped her Jimmy Choo against the marble floor, then paced again. Glanced at her phone, as if magically Liam would have somehow gotten her phone number and texted her. He hadn't, and the screen was blank. So she paced some more.

At five past, she began to wonder if it had all been a joke. The assistant chick had made such a big deal about being on time – so where was Mr. Punctual? At ten past, Katya had enough and started heading towards the exit. Just then, the maître d' glanced up from his podium.

“Excuse me, were you looking for someone?” he asked in a polite voice. She smiled at him.

“Yes, Mr. Stone, but he's late,” she said.

“Oh, he's already been seated! My apologies. Please, right this way.”

Katya was once again surprised. That Wulf was already there, and had been seated, not bothering to look out for her. Or obviously not bothering to tell the wait staff that he was expecting someone else. If she hadn't been sure before, then she was definitely sure now that it wasn't a date.

“Mr. Stone, you have a guest,” the maître d' made a big show of pulling out her chair for her, laying her napkin across her lap.

Wulfric Stone stayed seated the whole time, barely glancing up from his menu to acknowledge her. He nodded at the other man, then went back to looking over the food. Katya stared at him for about a minute, unsure of what she should do.

“Are you hungry? The lobster here is fantastic,” he said. He'd spoken to her in the bakery, but she'd been so out of sorts, she hadn't paid attention. His voice was smooth, and much deeper than she remembered it being.

“I'm sorry, are we having dinner?” she asked. He finally looked at her.

“So you have trouble with speaking English
and
don't understand the basic functions of a restaurant. You see, Katya, in a restaurant, they tend to specialize in producing food, particularly around the socially acceptable hours for lunch and dinner, and possibly breakfast, depending on the establishment.”

Her blood instantly went from stagnant to full boil and she stood up, her chair scooting out behind her. She didn't owe this man anything, didn't even know him, and couldn't give two shits about his order with her bakery. She grabbed her purse and went to storm past him when he grabbed her arm.

“
Do not
touch me,” she hissed, but his hand didn't move.

“I was being serious – the lobster shouldn't be missed. Sit down,” he said, finally putting down his menu.

“Are you joking? I'd rather eat my own hair than have a meal with you,” she said.

“Well, you can do that at this table, too.
Sit.
”

She sat down, shocking herself. He smiled at her – a closed mouth, tight lipped number, then retrieved her napkin from where it had fallen next to the table. She took it from him and smoothed it out on her lap.

“What do you want?”

“I was very surprised to see you in that bakery. I wasn't aware you were living in San Francisco,” he said.

“Been here for a long time now.”

“You're a baker?”

“Well, you see, Wulf, when someone makes cupcakes for order, and cakes, and cookies, and other desserts, depending on the establishment, that person is generally considered a baker,” she mocked him. She expected him to get angry, but he actually smiled. She wasn't sure if she'd ever seen him smile.

“Feisty. How's your mother?” he asked, sipping at his wine.

They discussed their families for a while. Their mothers were still close, and Katya had only been two years older than one of his sisters, though she hadn't spoken much to the other girl since graduation.

After they'd ordered, Katya found herself feeling more comfortable. More confident. Why was she so intimidated by him? Because he was rich? Because she'd had a crush on him, a million years ago? Refusing to blush, she remembered the woman she'd been the night before; remembered the kind of unbridled passion she'd experienced. She'd been fucked seven different ways to Sunday, in full view of multiple people – Wulf was nothing in comparison to that kind of intimidation.

Just another guy. You weren't scared of Liam – don't be scared of this asshole. You had
anal sex
last night, for god's sake. He wouldn't even know how to handle you.

Though while they ate, she caught him looking at her sometimes. Looking in such a way that she had a feeling he would know
exactly
how to handle her. By the time dessert menus were brought around, she was feeling so hot and tense and
turned on
, she felt like she was about to start running circles around the room.

“The food was lovely,” she said while she waited for her wine to be topped off. “And I even admit, it was fun to catch up with someone from the old neighborhood, but I have to be honest Wulf – why are we out at dinner?”

“For a bright girl, I feel like you don't catch onto things very quick,” he said. His sense of humor was odd, that was for sure. So dry and sarcastic, she wasn't entirely sure when he was or wasn't joking. She decided to take a guess.

“Then enlighten me, and speak slowly, please,” she joked back. She was given another tight lipped smile.

“Well, Katya, when a man asks a woman to share a meal with him late at night, that's generally considered a date.”

“We're on a date?”

She'd blurted it out before she could stop herself, but she was so shocked. Her? On a date? With Wulfric Stone? The world had officially gone crazy. First she's engaging in public displays of indecency, then she's accidentally going on a date with the biggest asshole she'd ever met.

Maybe I'm in a coma or something and this is all a crazy hallucination.

“What did you think this was?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I don't know, I thought maybe you wanted to talk about your order or something. I mean, you acted like you didn't even know me, then you sent your assistant in with a card, what was I supposed to think?” she asked back.

“I didn't really care, I suppose. I just saw little Katya Tocci behind a counter, all grown up, living in the same city as me. Thought it would be nice to sit down together, see what was behind that apron of yours,” he said. She willed away the blush.

“Um … that's … flattering,” she managed to reply, and she finally got a genuine smile out of him.

“It is, isn't it? C'mon, I have an early morning tomorrow.”

He walked her out of the restaurant, his hand on the small of her back, burning a hole through her shirt. She expected him to say goodbye and sail off into the night in a fancy car, leaving her to hail a taxi. But he kept his hand on her as he spoke to the valet, and a minute later, a sleek, sporty, convertible Mercedes rolled up in front of them. He stepped forward and opened the passenger door, and Katya didn't even question him, she just slid into the leather seat.