A Recipe for Reunion. Vicki Essex
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that it didn’t work that way since she didn’t have internet access at home—something he’d soon change—but she was a bit of a Luddite.
Stephanie paused. “I’ve always thought it would save us a little work to prepackage some of the bestselling cookies during the summer months for the tourists, to help move them through more quickly.”
“That’s a good idea.” He wrote it down.
“Labels for the bagged goodies would be nice, too. Like pretty stickers we could put on bags and tie with some gold ribbon.”
That would cost money, and wouldn’t necessarily translate into sales, but he noted it.
She rattled off a few more ideas—most of them were more about how the bakery looked rather than how it functioned, but he agreed the place could use a new coat of paint and maybe a change of curtains. “These are good ideas,” he said.
“Thanks.”
He put his pen down. Now that he had her attention, he needed to make an effort to be friendly. “So what happened to you after high school?” he asked. “We haven’t really talked.”
“You first,” she insisted. “You went to college, right?”
“Harvard Law School,” he confirmed, not without a little pride. He’d received a handsome scholarship and had worked part-time to feed and clothe himself. He’d been inching his way up the corporate ladder at the firm, but when Gran had gotten sick, he’d dropped everything. The truth was, he’d never really been into his job. He was an entrepreneur at heart.
Steph prodded, “No girlfriend?”
That was an awfully personal question. “Nope.”
“No one? Not even someone you’d categorize as ‘It’s complicated’?”
“That sounds exhausting.”
She rested her chin in a hand. “I take it that means no. How about a dog? Cat? Hamster?”
“I’m allergic to animal fur.” Irked by her pitying frown, he added, “I’m not lonely. I date occasionally. I have friends.” And then he felt stupid for getting defensive.
The truth was most of the women he’d been with hadn’t captured his attention. Not the way Steph did, perched on the edge of her chair, her focus on him. She’d always been like that, making you feel as if you were the only person in the world she wanted to talk to. But she’d been manipulative, too, knowing she could get what she wanted if she made you feel special enough.
It infuriated him that he should feel a twinge of attraction now.
“So, what about you?” he asked, turning the questioning back onto her. “Did you go to college?”
Her chin dipped. “No.”
“Oh. I’d have thought you could study anywhere in the world.”
“I didn’t have the grades. Actually, I never finished high school.”
Aaron sucked in a breath. He knew she hadn’t graduated with the rest of their class, but he’d assumed an extra semester would have solved that problem. “How many credits did you have left?”
She picked at her apron strings. “Just one.”
He caught his jaw before it dropped. “And all this time later, you still haven’t completed it?”
“Why bother?” She scowled.
“Why—” He wiped a palm down his face. “You need a high school diploma. That’s a basic requirement for any job.”
“Says who?” She tipped her nose in the air. “I didn’t need one to work here.”
“But...basic math skills...” He bit his lip. He hadn’t meant to say anything about that.
Steph’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean ‘basic math skills’? You think I can’t add or something?”
“I couldn’t help but notice you’ve made some mistakes on the till, is all. I thought maybe...” Lord, he hadn’t intended to bring this up now. He’d had some suspicions, but he hardly knew what to say. Unable to veer off this course, he asked, “You had a hard time in math, didn’t you?”
“Really? We’re going to compare report cards now?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Since you’re asking, I had a hard time in lots of things.” She sniffed. “But I don’t need a piece of paper to prove I can bake.”
“You could at least have gotten your high school equivalency diploma. Don’t you care what people think?”
“Are you judging me?”
“No, of course not.” But he’d taken a second too long to answer, and now she pierced him with a dagger-eyed look.
“You think I’m dumb, don’t you?” Her voice was dangerously low.
Uh-oh. “I never said that. Maybe you have...issues.”
Her expression shifted from angry to stone cold. “What the hell do you mean by issues?”
He hastened to correct himself, not wanting to go into that territory. Not now. “All I meant to say was that a diploma is important.” He struggled to put into words why it was so important—to him at least—but instead he said, “It seems silly to me that you didn’t finish your credits when you were so close.”
“So now I’m silly and stupid.”
He cringed. “What I meant—”
“I’m a good person, y’know. I have skills. Lots of people don’t have diplomas and do fine, Mr. Harvard Law School.”
“Of course you’re a good person.” He fought to keep his exasperation in check. “All I meant was that you could’ve gone to any school...” He took a deep breath. The fact that he’d had to work so hard to get what he wanted while she’d squandered her opportunities made him bitter and frustrated, but that didn’t give him any right to judge her. “Education is important. Basic language and math skills, sciences, geography—”
“Stop explaining things to me like I’m a child!” She shot out of her chair. “I don’t have any issues. I know what I want and I work hard. But you’re never going to see that, are you? You’re always going to look at me like I’m a dumb blonde cheerleader who dropped out of school and will never amount to anything.”
She was being deliberately obtuse, hearing what she wanted to hear so she could be mad at him. He raked his hands through his hair. With a brittle, maddened laugh, he uttered, “One credit and we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”
“That’s right. One credit. And you’re acting like it gives you the right to pick on me. Well, I hope your law degree taught you enough to run this place on your own—” she tore off her apron “—because I quit.”
“What?” Aaron’s heart stopped. He jumped out of his seat. “W-wait a minute—”
She threw her apron against his chest and stalked out of the office. He followed, calling her name. Two customers stared as she grabbed her purse and jacket and marched out.
“Steph, I didn’t mean—”
Her one-fingered salute shut him up.
Aaron stood on the bakery steps as she threw herself into her mini SUV and peeled out of the parking lot, kicking up icy gravel in her wake. The cold air seeped through his clothes and into his skin, slowly freezing his blood.
Crap. What the hell was he supposed to do now?
STEPHANIE CLENCHED HER JAW, sick to her stomach, heart pounding. As