Authors: Lisa Crane
Not His Type (7 page)
“No, I’ve missed
him, too,” she answered. “He can stay.”
“All right, just
be careful. ‘Night, Brooke.”
“Good night,
Travis. And thank you again.”
Travis pulled
the door shut as he left. Brooke took the two pain pills. She brushed her
teeth and washed her face. Just before she turned out the lights, she set an
alarm on her phone. Boo was already lying on the bed, and Brooke eased in
beside him, careful of her leg. She was asleep within a few minutes.
Travis woke
later than usual on Saturdays; even as his “late” morning, however, he was
still up and in the shower by seven. After showering he pulled on jeans and a
blue pull-over shirt, followed by black cowboy boots. He headed to the kitchen
for coffee, but paused at the open door to the guest room.
The room was
empty! The comforter on the bed was turned back neatly. The sheets on which
Brooke had slept had been removed. Travis immediately turned and headed toward
the kitchen. The door to his laundry room was slightly ajar and he could hear
the sound of the washing machine. He pushed open the laundry door and lifted
the lid on the washer; the sheets from the guest room, along with a couple of
towels from the guest bath, were spinning. So where was his guest this
morning? Travis turned back to the kitchen frowning.
He walked
through the house a second time, calling for Brooke. Then he called for Boo.
Brooke didn’t answer, and her dog didn’t come bounding to meet Travis. Travis
returned to the kitchen and went out the back door, across the yard and up to
Brooke’s front porch. He knocked on the door. He could hear Boo barking
excitedly inside the house, but the door remained firmly closed. Then Travis
realized Brooke’s car was not in the driveway. Where had she gone, and how had
she managed to get out of his house without waking him, Travis wondered.
Brooke walked
out of the diner, her last paycheck clutched in her hand. It wasn’t even eight
o’clock, and she was already slightly discouraged. Brooke had been so certain
she’d be able to convince Joe to give her back her job! Instead, he’d only
promised to call her if the new girl didn’t work out; then he’d proceeded to
tell Brooke how great the new girl was.
So now Brooke
walked slowly down the sidewalk, wondering where she might find another job.
As she walked, she decided to stop at a little bakery for a cup of coffee. She
knew she could’ve gotten a free cup at the diner, but she just couldn’t bring
herself to ask for one. So now she walked into Babycakes, immediately breathing
in the warm, sweet smell of baked goods. As she approached the counter, her
eyes fell on a small sign next to the register.
“Good morning,
may I help you?” a handsome man asked her.
“I’d like a cup
of coffee, please,” Brooke said. She pointed at the sign. “And um, what kind
of help are you looking for?”
“Do you have any
experience baking?” the man asked, his blue eyes twinkling.
“Oh,” Brooke
said. “No. Not really. Just in my own kitchen. I’m pretty good, but
not…bakery good.”
“Hang on just a
minute,” he said. He called over his shoulder toward the kitchen door.
“Jazz! Honey, can you come out here a minute?” He turned back to Brooke and
extended his hand over the counter to her. “Riley Parker. My wife, Jasmine
owns Babycakes.”
“It’s nice to
meet you, Mr. Parker,” Brooke said. “I’m Brooke Valentine.”
“Hey, babe,
what’s up?”
A lovely woman
came out of the kitchen; she had a long black braid, and dark brown eyes that
sparkled merrily at her husband. She glanced from Riley to Brooke, smiling.
“Miss Valentine
here is looking for work,” Riley said.
“Oh!” The woman
motioned for Brooke to come around the counter. “Let’s go back to my office
where we can talk. Bring your coffee.”
Brooke followed
the woman to a small office. The other woman, presumably Riley Parker’s wife,
sat down behind the desk, giving a little sigh. She leaned back, smoothing her
tunic top down over a round belly. She smiled at Brooke.
“As you can see,
I don’t have too much longer before this little one makes his appearance,” she
said. “I’m Jasmine Valenzuela, by the way.”
“I thought…did I
misunderstand?” Brooke asked. “I thought Mr. Parker said his wife…?”
“If you had a
perfectly lovely name like Valenzuela, would you change it to Parker?” the
other woman laughed. “No, I still use my maiden name for business. But yes,
Riley is my husband.” She smiled again. “So do you have any experience,
Brooke? Cooking, baking, restaurant or anything?”
“No, I’m afraid
not. Not really. Well, I have worked the past two years at Joe’s Diner down
the street, but that’s it.”
Jazz Valenzuela
seemed to perk up. “Joe’s?” She narrowed her dark eyes. “I don’t suppose you
know how he makes that coconut pie, do you? The one with the habanera and
jalapeño in it? He won’t give me the recipe!”
“Actually,
um…that’s
my
recipe,” Brooke answered.
“You’re hired!”
“What?” Brooke
asked, startled. “But you haven’t even asked me anything else? You didn’t
even ask why I left Joe’s!”
“Okay, why did
you leave Joe’s?” Jazz asked.
“Oh…well, I had
an accident on my motorcycle last week,” Brooke answered. “I missed a couple
of shifts while I was in the hospital.”
“You got fired
while you were in the hospital?” Jazz asked disbelievingly.
“Well, I wasn’t
so much fired as I was replaced.”
“Well, Joe’s
idiocy is my blessing, isn’t it?”
The conversation
was interrupted by the ringing of Brooke’s cell phone. She pulled it from her
pocket and quickly silenced it. Jazz tilted her head.
“You can answer
it if you need to,” she said.
“No, it’s just
my neighbor.”
“Okay.” Jazz
smiled. “So when can you start?” She held up a hand. “Wait. Before you
answer that, I have to tell you, you’ll be starting as low man. There may be
days when all you do is wash pans and sweep floors. And starting out, you’ll
be hourly at thirteen dollars. Prove yourself, and you’ll get a raise. Now
how about it?”
“Right now,”
Brooke answered. “I can start now!”
“Seriously?”
“Yes!”
“Let me grab
some paperwork for you to fill out,” Jazz said excitedly. She eyed Brooke
speculatively. “I think I have an extra tunic that will fit you. Might be a
little long, but I think it’ll work. After you’ve been here a week or so, I’ll
order you some of your own.”
Jazz rose and
pulled some forms from a filing cabinet. She handed them to Brooke as Brooke’s
phone rang again. Why was Travis Cooper calling her? Again. She silenced it
again and slid the phone in her pocket. Jazz looked at her curiously.
“Is your
neighbor a crazy cat lady or something?” she asked, chuckling.
“No, nothing
like that,” Brooke answered, laughing a little nervously. “So I’ll just fill
these out and start today?”
“Yes!” Jazz’s
husband, Riley, walked into the office. “Ry, honey, take the sign off the
counter! Brooke is starting today!”
“Really!” Riley
said, smiling broadly. “Welcome aboard, Brooke!”
Brooke’s phone
rang again. Jazz rolled her eyes.
“Please answer
that!” she said, laughing. “Your neighbor clearly needs to talk to you about
something! You can talk to her while you fill out forms. I’ll be in the
kitchen. Riley will be out front. Just holler when you’re done and we’ll get
you started, okay?”
Riley and Jazz
walked out of the small office. Brooke stabbed at the green “TALK” button on
her phone.
“Hello?” she
said quietly.
“Brooke!”
Travis’ voice came through the phone, hard and angry. “Where are you? I’ve
been calling you and calling you!”
“Travis, I – I
had things to do!” Brooke answered, surprised at his tone. “What – why – are
you
angry
with me?”
“Brooke, I had no
idea where you went!” he said. “I woke up and you were just
gone
!”
“I’m sorry….”
Brooke was at a loss. Even while her grandfather was still alive, he’d been so
ill the last couple of years that he hadn’t seemed to notice Brooke’s comings
and goings; to have someone – a virtual stranger – keeping tabs and worrying
about her was strange. “I just went to pick up my check and…well, I found a
job!”
“Where
are
you, Brooke?”
“I’m at a
bakery,” she answered. “It’s called Babycakes. I just got a job here this
morning!” Silence met her words. “I thought you’d be glad to be rid of me,
Travis.”
“Why would you –
never mind.” Travis blew out a sigh. “Look, I’m just glad you’re okay. I
didn’t mean to yell at you. I’ll see you later, okay?”
Brooke hung up
and stared at her phone for a minute before sliding it back into her pocket.
She finished filling out all the paperwork Jazz had given her, then went to
find Jazz or Riley.
“I’ll take
those,” Riley said as Brooke left the office. He looked them over quickly. “Everything
looks good. You can go on in the kitchen now and see where she wants to get
you started.”
Brooke followed
Riley’s gesture to the kitchen door. She pushed it open and found Jazz in the
back rolling out cookie dough. Jazz waved Brooke over to the big stainless
steel table where she was working.
“Today I’m
working on spice cookies,” Jazz said. “I’m also going to make about a ton of
pumpkin bread.” She smiled. “We’re supposed to get a cold front this
afternoon, and that always brings people in looking for those warm Autumn
goodies, you know?”
“What can I do
to help?” Brooke asked. “I can roll dough and let you work on the pumpkin
bread, if you’d like.”
“Yeah, you can
probably reach the table better than I can,” the other woman laughed, rubbing
her belly. Brooke laughed with her and reached for the rolling pin. “Thanks.
The oven’s already pre-heated, and those bake for about ten minutes. I’ll get
started on the bread. Oh, I need Riley for this, or I’ll get in trouble.”
Jazz went to the
door and called for her husband. Riley immediately bounded into the kitchen,
his blue eyes wide.
“Everything
okay?” he asked a little breathlessly.
“Riley, honey,”
Jazz said dryly. “Every time I call your name, it does not mean I’m in labor.
I just need you to get those cans of pumpkin down from that shelf, babe.”
“Oh.” He
grinned, pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and pulled a step-ladder over to
the shelf. Brooke stepped over to take the heavy cans of pumpkin puree as
Riley handed them down. Jazz stood back glaring at the two of them.
“Oh, I see how
this works,” she muttered. “Brooke’s gonna be just as bad as you are about
letting me do things. She’s already taken over rolling out cookie dough, now
she won’t let me take cans of pumpkin!”
“Yep,” Riley
teased, winking at Brooke. “Give the girl a raise!”
“Ha! I just
want you to let me do my job!”
“Aren’t you the
boss?” Brooke asked innocently. “Doesn’t that mean you get to just supervise?”
“Oh, you’re
good,” Riley laughed. He stepped off the ladder and set the last can on the
big worktable. He smiled at Brooke. “Keep her out of trouble, will you?
Trust me, that will be the toughest part of your job here, Brooke!”
Two hours later,
Brooke and Jazz were well into making cookies and breads when Riley pushed open
the door to the kitchen. He stuck his head in, an odd expression on his face.
“Hey, Brooke,”
he said. “There’s someone out here asking for you.”
“For me?”
Riley nodded.
Wiping her hands on a towel, Brooke followed him to the front of the bakery.
Arms folded across his broad chest, an implacable look on his face, Travis
Cooper stood on the other side of the display case full of baked goods. Brooke
stared at him, her mouth gaping open for a moment. Riley stood beside her, his
gaze going from her to the large man across the counter.
“Can I have a
minute with Brooke, please?” the big man asked, his voice deep.
“Brooke?” Riley
queried, his brows raised questioningly. When Brooke nodded, Riley pointed to
the opposite end of the bakery. “I’ll be right over there.”
Riley’s
implication was clear. This big, muscular man didn’t appear very happy with
Brooke, and Riley was letting Brooke know he wasn’t going to leave her alone
with him. Riley admitted to himself with a little smirk that if the man wanted
to haul Brooke Valentine out by her ponytail, there probably wouldn’t be much
Riley could do to stop him. But at least he was lending moral support until he
could find out what was going on.
“Travis, what
are you doing here?” Brooke hissed.
“I just wanted
to check on you,” he answered easily. “You know you shouldn’t be driving when
you’re taking pain pills.”