Year of Living Blonde (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 1) (12 page)

“I didn’t realize I was that late,” he says stiffly. “I had a short meeting before this one.”

Yeah, right,
I wonder what her name is?
“Well, maybe if you looked at a clock—”

“Would you like some coffee, Anthony?” Blair asks, interrupting her.

“That would be great. An espresso breve, if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll be right back,” Blair says, and as she stands up, her eyes drill into Natalie.
Shut up!
she mouths.

Natalie knows Blair is right. She needs to be nice. No matter how much she may dislike Anthony, they still need to convince him to lease them that space.

She puts a fake smile on and watches the two men across from her.

Blair comes back with Anthony’s espresso breve. “Thanks.” He sees the plate of pastries and using a napkin takes one of the chocolate chunk cookies.

My
cookies, Natalie notices. Apparently,
those
aren’t too sweet for him. “Shall we finally get started now?” she says, leaning forward impatiently. Blair kicks her under the table, but she ignores it.

Anthony glances up. “Sure, although I’m a little confused. I think maybe we need to go over introductions again. Obviously, I’m Anthony and you both met Graham here.” He looks at Blair. “I know you’re the owner, it’s Blair, right?”

“Yes,” Blair nods. “And this—”

“But why are
you
here?” Anthony cuts her off, looking directly at Natalie.

“Me? I’m one of the owners, too. Blair and I are business partners.”

Anthony raises his eyebrows in surprise. “What’s your name?”

“Natalie Anderson.”

“You’re one of the owners?”

“Yes, I said that already, didn’t I?”

“But, I thought . . . are you a baker?”

Natalie tries not to let her irritation show. “Of course I’m a baker.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I baked that cookie you’re eating,” she snaps. “In fact, it’s my recipe.”

He still has a perplexed expression. “But you didn’t even know how to fill out a cake order that time I came in.”

Oh, no.

A tidal wave of embarrassment washes over her, and if she could drown herself in it she would.
Why did he have to remember that?
Even Blair is eyeing her curiously.

“You caught me on a bad day. That’s all,” she says tightly.

For a long moment Anthony doesn’t reply, but she can feel his eyes on her. When he speaks, his voice has a bemused quality. “Is that right?”

Natalie’s head is down, but she glances up at his tone. When she meets his gaze she can see the perceptiveness in his brown eyes. She lets out her breath. There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she recognizes as humiliation.

“SO YOU’RE THE
one who makes these cookies?” Anthony takes a bite. “They’re good.”

He watches Natalie swallow as her face grows a brighter shade of red. Even her ears are red. He’d chuckle if her embarrassment didn’t look so painful.

The truth is, she was busting his balls about running a few minutes late today, and so maybe he’s enjoying her embarrassment.

Just a little.

“We’re scratch bakers and Natalie creates most of our master recipes,” Blair tells him. “She’s one of the few bakers I consider talented enough to work with.”

Blair grins over at Natalie, who still looks like she’d commit hara-kiri if he so much as handed her a butter knife.

He suspects Natalie isn’t the kind of woman used to feeling embarrassment about anything. Ball-busters seldom are.

Anthony takes another bite of his cookie and chews thoughtfully. Decides to cut her some slack. “I have to agree with your partner here, Natalie. These are the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever tasted.”

“Chocolate chunk—” she starts to correct him, but then stops herself. “Thank you,” she replies, not quite meeting his eyes. “It took me a while to get them just right.” She picks up her coffee and takes a sip and he can see she’s on more comfortable ground now.

Anthony leans back in his chair and studies her. Women usually like him. Although it’s clear Natalie doesn’t. She’s attracted to him though, and her attraction is pissing her off. He’s tempted to get a rise out of her again, but decides not to bother.

Plain, plump, and persnickety.

Anthony knows the type and they’re typically humorless. Best to just get on with the meeting.

“I know you sent me all your financial information,” he says, speaking to both women. “Let me show you what I did with it.” He reaches for his bag and pulls out his laptop, moving his coffee aside so he can place the computer on the table in front of him. “Basically, I have financial software I use for all my tenants. It’s a program I wrote myself called
A Conti Fatti.
” His laptop is in sleep mode, so it only takes a few seconds to bring up his business software and find their file. “Graham is already familiar with it, but let me show you two how it works.”

After opening the file for La Dolce Vita, Anthony brings up the page that shows the financial overview of the bakery. He then turns the laptop toward Natalie and Blair.

They both lean forward in their chairs, focusing on his computer.

“What I’ve done is create this software that takes in all the financial variables involved in running a small business,” Anthony explains. “It tells me whether or not you can afford your lease.”

He brings up some pie charts to show them what he’s talking about. “I created this to help screen my tenants, and then I let Graham here handle the paperwork and all the rest of it.”

Natalie looks perplexed. “But I still don’t understand why you won’t lease us the space next door.”

Anthony turns the computer around and brings up their profit and loss page. “According to this, you can’t afford it. In order to inhabit that space you’d need to first remodel, plus your monthly lease would double.”

“We’ve already gotten bank approval for the remodeling loan, though,” Blair puts in. “And we have savings, too.”

“I know,” says Anthony. “But it would still be a bad investment on my part.”

Natalie frowns. “That space next door is empty and has been for months. Aren’t you losing money?”

“Yes, but all that information is accounted for. My software tells me it’s safer to find a new tenant than allow you to rent that space and have to abandon it. Believe me, I’ve included every variable, and it isn’t a good idea.”

He watches the women as they study the computer screen. Blair, the redhead, is leaning on one elbow as she reads. The ball-buster is facing forward with a scowl on her face. She licks her lips in what appears to be frustration and picks up her coffee mug.

The movement catches his eye and when she puts the mug down, he’s still watching.

Anthony’s eyes widen as he focuses on her mouth. It’s shockingly sensual. Even with the scowl. What’s a mouth like that doing on a stern woman like this? Full lips with a natural pout and a pink flush that clearly isn’t makeup. From what he can tell, she isn’t wearing any makeup at all. Her skin is pretty and he decides she doesn’t really need it. Her hair is light brown and pulled back in a severe ponytail.

He scans her body quickly, but there isn’t much to see. She’s sitting, but even standing he suspects he couldn’t see much. Her clothes are black and baggy and he figures she’s trying to hide that she’s overweight.

Natalie suddenly looks at him, sensing his perusal.

He grins and surprisingly her scowl goes away. That erotic mouth looks even better. Such perfect cherry lips. He wonders what she looks like when she smiles. A real smile, not the fake ones she’s been giving.

“So if I begged a little, do you think you’d give me your cookie recipe?” he asks.

He continues to smile, but she doesn’t smile back. In fact, the scowl has returned and is deeper than ever.

Dude, she probably never smiles.

Natalie frowns.
Did he really just ask me for my cookie recipe? Like I’d hand it out?

She knew he was looking her over, too.
He’s probably comparing me to his harem of women who all look like variations of Justine—a cake pop with breasts and gold earrings.

If that’s the measure he’s using then she knows she falls short. Very short.
Not that I care anyway.

Her eyes go back to his computer and the pie charts and graphs he’s showing them. It all seems like a bunch of nonsense. And to think, this nonsense is the reason they can’t expand La Dolce Vita.

“What about all the business we turn away? How is that factored into your program?” Natalie asks.

Anthony meets her eyes.
Was he just looking at my mouth?
She licks her lips, hoping she doesn’t have food on her face.

It takes him a moment to process her question. “I didn’t know you turned business away. How often does that happen?”

Natalie looks over at Blair, who shrugs. “Every day. I have a waiting list for my wedding cakes,” Blair explains.

“We’ve been approached by various caterers and restaurants to supply desserts, but I’ve had to turn many of them down, since we don’t have the baking capacity.” Natalie sighs. “It’s frustrating.”

Anthony’s brows knit together as he chews on this. “Very interesting. Did you know about this, Graham?”

“No, this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

Anthony reaches down into his satchel and pulls out a black case. When he opens it, Natalie sees it contains glasses. Thick black ones, like Clark Kent. He turns the computer back toward himself, squinting a little before putting on the glasses.

She finishes the last of her latte, trying not to stare at Anthony as he clicks on his keyboard and then starts typing rapidly.

Graham is asking them if they’ve kept track of any of the business they’ve had to turn down. “Do you have numbers we can look at?”

“I can show you the waiting list for my wedding cakes, if that helps. I’m not sure if Natalie has written anything down, have you?” Blair turns to Natalie.

“No, though I could probably come up with an estimate.” She’s still watching Anthony.

The glasses slip down from his nose and he pushes them up a few times. He looks like a geek. The only thing missing from those oversize black glasses is a piece of duct tape holding them together.

As she watches him squinting at his computer, she has a revelation.

My God.
He
is
a geek.

Granted, an absurdly handsome one.

“What do you do for a living, Anthony?” Natalie finds herself asking curiously.

“I’m an astronomer,” he says, still typing, not bothering to look up.

Natalie opens her mouth. It wasn’t at all what she expected him to say. Although, now that she sees him with his geek paraphernalia, it doesn’t seem that far-fetched.

Blair is still talking to Graham about some of the business she’s had to turn away, but when she hears Anthony’s comment, her attention is caught. “You’re really an astronomer?”

“That’s right,” Anthony murmurs, focused on his computer.

“You sure don’t look like one.”

“What do I look like?” he asks, still concentrating.

Graham grins. “Professor Heartthrob, or at least that’s what I think she’s trying to say.”

“You’re a
professor?
” Natalie asks. For some reason the notion is alarming. Even though she knew he wasn’t really a model or a movie star, she never expected this.