Second Chance Hero (7 page)

“Deacon?” Pauls tried to get my attention and orders
another gin.

“With respects, if I was out enjoying life, I
wouldn’t have produced the prints you wanted and wouldn’t have the
organisational skills to put together the teams to do the job.”

“Fair point well made.” He laughs.

I’m not paying attention. I’m more interested in
Jenna and who the man is that she’s meeting. I’ve never seen him before; he’s
not from Folquay and he’s not Kip. Even thinking about that pompous shithead
makes me want to punch something. But now who is this one? She had the audacity
to look down on me about my...acquaintances, when here she is with
man-in-a-suit number two. What a hypocrite.

Mr. Crane’s phone rings and I’m forced to pay
attention to him. The call is quick, with barely a word said on his part.

“I’m afraid,” he says putting the phone in the
inside pocket of his suit jacket, “I’m going to have cut our meeting short.
Duty calls.”

Thank god.

“I understand. Another time.” I lie.

He stands and does the buttons on his jacket up,
calling to the waitress to put the drinks on his tab.

“I look forward to seeing the final drafts. Great to
see you.”

I stand up and take his proffered hand.

“You too.”

He leaves and I turn my attention back to the Jenna,
who is wearing a white work dress and sitting metres from me. I felt her
presence the moment she stepped outside, but she hasn’t noticed me. I’ve seen
this way too many times to not understand what’s going on here. She can't sit
still; she changes which legs she’s got crossed five times in the few minutes I
sit and watch her. She twirls a piece of hair around her finger, her strappy
shoe dangling from her toes, and she’s running the backs of her fingers up and
down her throat. The guy opposite her looks like he just won the lottery and
there is no doubt in my mind that this is a date.

 But then she turns her head in my direction, looks
straight at me and my assumptions fly into reverse. Bingo.

She looks away instantly but she’s played the first
hand. And, she’s wearing the necklace I bought her yesterday. I finish my drink
and stand up from the table, making my way over to where she is sitting with a
vertically challenged man who is hanging on her every word.

“What are you doing?” I stand next to her chair, and
completely ignore who she’s with.

“Are you serious?” She asks as her eyes widen in
shock. She turns her entire body to face me, one hand gripping the back of her chair,
the other on the lip of the glass table.

“Yeah, I’m serious.”

“I’m about to have lunch. Have you got a problem
with me eating now?” Jenna stands up, challenging me, and folds her arms. My
eyes travel to her exposed cleavage, I can’t help it. I want to laugh at petite
Jenna trying to be tough, but the anger radiating off her tells me to tread
carefully.

“I’ve got a problem with you being
here
with
him
.”
I point to her lunch companion without looking at him, “Aren’t you supposed to
have a boyfriend?”

“Oh, Deacon,” she squeezes the bridge of her nose,
“you are so far off the mark right now”

“What are you talking about? You judged me for my
lifestyle yet you’ve been back in town for two minutes and I’ve seen you with
two blokes. I thought you had more self respect than that.”

“Don't do it.” She says calmly, but I can see the
rage rippling just below the surface, “You have no right to judge me, when you
don’t know me. Don’t paint me with the same brush as you because of your sordid
lifestyle.”

“Clearly our lifestyles have something in common.”

I turn to the guy sitting with her and he looks more
than amused, shaking his head and smirking.

“Something funny, mate?”

He shakes his head, continuing to smile, as someone
clears their throat behind me. I turn around to see another man and a quirky
hippy woman standing behind me. I recognise the hippy and the humiliation hits
me like the slap in the face I’m sure Jenna wants to give me. I’m in trouble.

“Deacon?” Jenna says and I turn back to her. I
missed something significant here. Like the other two chairs at the table,
“Abbie, Carl and Anthony. Abbie is running my shop in Camden, Carl runs the
shop in Covent Garden, and Anthony here is his partner.”

“Shit.”

She nods, and walks away from the table, leading me
to a corner by the tennis courts and out of ear shot. I grimace, thinking I’m
going to get it. If only I’d watched her for five more minutes. I look back
over to her table as her friends all look away. It’s obvious the man I thought
she was on a date with is not interested in women, by the way he scoots his
chair closer to his partner and takes hold of his hand.

“If you dare do anything like that again, I will not
be held accountable for my actions. What are you doing here Deacon?”

“I had a business lunch.”

“Right. Clearly you are a busy and talented
businessman, hence why when I saw you I didn’t say hello in case it was
unprofessional considering your reason for being here. Now say I was here
negotiating a business deal, like the busy business woman that
I
am, do
you think I’d have anything to negotiate after that stunt you just pulled?”

Shit again. I hadn’t thought about that.

“I didn’t think about it like that.”

“Clearly. I don’t know what your problem is, but you
need to back off. How am I supposed to get on with my life back here with you
breathing down my neck?”

“I’m not – I just. Fuck it. I’m sorry, okay?” She
nods.

“I’ve got to get back to my four way affair before
I’m declared bankrupt.” She takes a deep breath and her expression relaxes,
“Thanks for the necklace.”

She taps me on the shoulder as she walks past and it
sends shockwaves through my body, her touch literally vibrating through me. I
turn around and watch her trying to compose herself as she walks back to her
table. I don’t know what’s going on with us, but it’s fucking with my mental
state.

Jenna

“What was that about?” Anthony asks as I sit back
down at the table.

I shake my head and pour us all a large glass of
wine. I don’t want to talk about this.

“I know that look,” Abbie squeaks, “I’m going to
guess that was enigmatic Deacon Reid?”

“Your investigative skills know no bounds, Abs.” I
tie my hair back to get it off my neck and hope that’s all I have to say, but
they’re looking at me like it’s hot gossip, “Yes, that was Deacon Reid. He’s
arrogant, he’s rude and he thinks he can just waltz in and out of my life
whenever he feels like it. I’m having the salmon.”

I invited Abbie and Carl here so they can help me
with the opening of the new bakery. It won't be ready for a couple of months,
but I need to copy over the recipe books, make sure they’re okay handling the
business with a boss who’s a hundred miles away and they’ve brought some photos
of the other two shops so I can keep the theme the same in the Folquay store.
Carl decided to bring Anthony with him so they could spend the weekend here
together, which is fine by me since we’ve bonded many times over rosé and chick
flicks.

“Salmon sounds good. Is it caught here?” Carl asks.

“Seriously?” I laugh, “Is Alaskan Salmon caught in
British Waters? I would say that’s a no.”

“Well you live near the sea, fish are caught in the
sea. I don’t care about specifics, unless we’re specifying just how gorgeous
that beacon is.”

“It’s Deacon. You should stop talking now.”

He covers his face with his hands in embarrassment
and Anthony orders another bottle of Chardonnay.

~

“Hi, Kip.” I answer my phone on the way to meet with
the surveyor, “Now isn’t a good time. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s Friday. What’s happening tomorrow?”

            “Of course it’s Friday. Sorry I’ve been
really busy. Come down and we’ll go for dinner.”

I hear him sigh.

“I can't keep doing these long drives, baby.”

“I know. But I just thought we could go for dinner
here.”

There’s a long pause on the other end and I stop
outside the bakery, grateful that the surveyor isn’t here yet.

“Okay,” Kip finally says, “I’ll get off early today
and come down.”

“Great. I’ve got to go, I’ll see you tonight.”

I hang up quickly and open up the shop.

“Miss Rivera!” I turn to see a tall dark haired man walking
towards me, a tool belt round his lean waist and a drawing pad under his arm,
“I’m Perry.”

“Nice to meet you, Perry. Come in.” I step inside
and he follows me, laying his things on one of the dusty tables.

“It’s bigger inside than it looks from outside.”

“It’s a great size. Bigger than my London shops.
I’ll make some tea.”

“Thanks. White, no sugar.”

Perry wanders around the front of the shop while I
go out to the back to put the kettle on. I take the tea out when it’s made and
Perry is writing up his measurements.

“So...” He says, brushing the dust off of one of the
seats and sitting at the table, “What’s your plan?”

“I want to keep the same theme as my other shops.
Contemporary fifties, girly rock and roll. I have some pictures.”

I head behind the counter to get the photos out of
my bag and hear the bell above the door chime. I look up to see Perry and
Deacon shaking hands.

“What are you doing here?” I shriek, choosing to
stay behind the counter so I don’t risk forcing him to withstand the physical torture
I want to make him endure for turning up again.

“I had some spare time so I thought I’d pop by and
help out.”

“I think we’re okay here actually.” I squeeze the
photos so tight they crumple and my hands begin to cramp.

“It’s okay, Jenna and I were just going over the
design she wants here.”

“I thought you were the surveyor?” Deacon eyes him
suspiciously, and then sits in my seat, crosses one ankle over the other and
takes a sip of my tea.

“We’re all trained to do everything. Saves sending a
surveyor, then a designer, then someone to fit it. We get assigned a job and
someone heads it all the way through.”

“And that, in this case, will be you?” He asks and
I’m sure I detect a hint of jealousy in his voice. He can’t seriously be that
competitive over work.

“Yes, that will be me.”

“Okay. It’s good to know who we’ll be working with.”

We?

“Miss Rivera didn’t mention it being joint
business.”

“That’s because it isn’t one.” There’s my voice,
“Mr. Reid is an old family friend and owns the construction company down the
road.”

“Oh, yeah I’ve heard. D R and Son Construction and
Property Development.”

Perry casts me a judgmental look; the kind of look
that wonders why I wouldn’t hire a family friend’s         million pound
company to create my cake shop.

“So as we were discussing before we were
interrupted,” I finally calm down enough to be within six feet of Deacon, and
hand Perry the pictures of the two other shops.

“I see the look you’re going for. It’s quirky.”

“We needed something to attract attention in London.
I want it a little more subtle here, still with that theme but I want it to fit
in aesthetically with the town.”

“That won't be a problem.” He tucks the pictures
into his drawing pad before Deacon can see them, “I have the measurements, I’ll
get the drafts dawn up and then give you a ring.”

“That sounds great.”

“So I guess that’s all for today. I’ll try and work
on these over the weekend and get back to you on Monday.”

Perry shakes mine and Deacon’s hands once more and
leaves the shop.

I take a deep breath, shake my head at Deacon, who
looks a little deflated, and head in to the back. It’s no surprise that he
follows me, but I just don’t want to talk to him. I make a start on some
raspberry ripple cupcakes I’m trying to perfect the recipe for, fully aware that
he’s watching everything I do.

“I always loved watching you bake.” He says, leaning
against the counter, so close to me I can smell his delicious smell,
overpowering the raspberries and every one of my senses. All of sudden, my nose
smells nothing but him, my eyes see nothing but him, and my ears hear nothing
except for the steady breathing coming from his nose as he waits for my
response.

“If you have to stand there and watch me, can you do
it in silence?” I crack some eggs over a bowl and separate the yolks from the
whites.

“I’m trying to be nice.”

“I don’t want you to be nice.”

“But I’m always nice to you, Jen.”

“No. Don't do that.”

“Don't do what?” his eyes stalk me as I move to the
food mixer and begin measuring out the butter and sugar.

“That. What you’re doing, like we’re still best
friends living out of each other’s pockets. We’re not friends anymore, Deac.”

“Are we not friends because I left uni or because
you left Folquay?”

I turn the machine on and it whirs to life, blocking
out any sound coming out of his beautifully annoying mouth. I’m in my own
world, watching the butter and sugar cream together when his arm reaches across
me and he switches the mixer off at the wall.

“Don’t say something and then ignore my comeback.”

“I just want you to leave!” I spin around and shove
at his chest but it’s like granite and he doesn’t move, “Get out! You had your
chance to support my business choices and you blew it. Get out!”

I repeatedly pound his chest, but he just stands
there and takes it, his chest heaving and his fists clenched. He flashes in his
eyes, setting his blue orbs alight and he grabs my shoulders and pushes me
against the counter, knocking over the mixer, before crushing his lips to mine
and slides his hand around to the back of my neck to hold me in place. He
doesn’t move, just holds his mouth to mine; I stop hitting and sag against him,
my body betraying my heart...my mind is lost somewhere trying to process all of
what’s going on. Deacon’s lips move slowly against mine, and I follow his lead.

“Come for a drink with me,” he says, releasing my
lips and resting his forehead on mine.

I shake my head and try to pull away from him but
his steel body has me caged against the metal worktop.

“Come for a drink with me.” He moves his lips down
across my jaw and to my neck. My body comes to life in a way that has been
dormant since the last time he touched me like this.

            “No,” I say, unable to convey any
sincerity as my body begins to bow to him.

I feel his smile against my throat as his lips
travel to the other side of my neck and he grazes his teeth along the skin just
under my ear. I can’t contain the moan that escapes as he teases my erogenous
zone.

“Come for a drink with me.”

“One drink.” I whisper before my body completely
submits.

He steps back and frees me, instantly satisfied with
himself.

“What time shall I pick you up?”

“Not tonight, I have plans. Ask me next time we
mysteriously bump into each other.” I turn back to the mixer and switch it on, “I
was serious about you leaving, I don’t want you here.”

There’s no eradicating his smile; he looks like the
cat that got the cream. But he does as I ask and leaves me to my baking,
throwing his business card on the counter on the way out.

~

The raspberry ripple cupcakes are the best cakes
I’ve made for months and I made a light butter cream to ice them with, and my
phone starts ringing while I’m busy clearing up. It’s Grace, Jonas’ girlfriend.

“Hi, Grace.” I answer.

“Jenna, hi. I’m going into town if you want to come.
I asked your mum but she’s busy and I could really use some advice on an outfit
for the weekend. Jonas is taking me to London to the theatre and I’ve never
been to the city before.”

“Sure.” Good timing. I could do with by something
new for dinner with Kip tonight, “I’m in the shop so I need to go home and
clean up. Give me an hour okay?”

We hang up and I switch off and lock up, taking the
cakes with me in a little white box. I manage to shower and change out of the
pencil skirt I wore to meet with Perry this morning, get the verdict on the
cakes from Mum, Dad and Jonas, and I’m ready by the time Grace gets to the
house. I offer to drive, seeing as I haven’t got much use out of my car since I
got back.

“So what’s the deal with you and the Reid brothers?”
Grace asks from behind the curtain of the dressing room.

The Reid brothers?

“There is one hundred percent nothing going on. Why
do you ask?”

“Well, I saw you having coffee with the older one,
and then there’s you and Deacon.”

“I grew up with them, Grace. I’ve known them my
whole life. Bradley is a great friend.”

“Well, I think Deacon is lovely. There’s just
something about him that screams ‘I’m a man, come get me’.”

What? Did my brother’s girlfriend really just say
that?

“Are you nearly done? I’ve got plans for tonight.”

            Kip meets me at the restaurant, after
parking in the visitor’s car park at the entrance of town. I’m already two
glasses of wine in when he joins me and orders a lemonade.

“So how was your day?” I ask as innocently as
possible, remembering I had another man’s hands and mouth on me today. Guilt
washes over me as I twirl the stem of my wine glass.

“It was work, Jen. I made a few calls, made a few
sales. A pretty good Friday as far as stock broking goes.”

I nod and take a bread roll from the middle of the
table.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, looking at the butter
I’m spreading on the bread, “You don’t eat bread.”

“I have some news,” I answer, not looking at him.
It’s easier to tell him I’m staying here for the foreseeable future than risk
telling him what else I’ve been doing.

“You’re finally coming home.”

“Actually, no. I didn’t want to say anything until
it was finalised.” The waiter brings over Kip’s lemonade, “I’ve bought my third
shop. Here, in Folquay.”

“You’re kidding me?”

I shake my head, “No. It just felt like the right
time and place to make another investment.”

“I thought you were going to open up in London?”