Sweet Baklava (10 page)

"Would you like to come over . . . later tonight?"

He lifted a hand and rubbed his chin. "Why don't we stick to the original plan and talk tomorrow?"

Paula stood there and stared, speechless. "That's okay. We can end this distance thing early."

He shook his head. "Nope. You wanted a couple of days to think about things, and that's what I'm gonna give you. It's probably a good idea anyway. Both of us have a lot of thinking to do."

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Finally, she clamped her mouth shut and nodded. "If you're sure."

"Paula, you're a very smart woman—that's what I've always loved—um, liked about you. When you say you need time to think, it's best to give you that time."

"But . . ." Her eyebrows drew together, forming a crinkle above her nose. "I guess you're right. I just . . . well, I don't know why I thought—"

In all the years he'd known Paula, he'd only seen her speechless a couple of times before—once when she won an award for service to the school and the other time when he told her he loved her. This wasn't as good, though. He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her and tell her he loved her more than ever.

"So I guess I should leave now, huh?"

Nick nodded. "I think that's probably a good idea, yeah."

"Okay." She waved good-bye, turned, and walked away.

"Paula!"

She shook her head and kept walking. "Come to the shop tomorrow. We'll talk then."

After she left, he stood there, stunned by his own actions. What had he just done? His time in Tarpon Springs was limited, and it certainly wasn't standing still.

P
aula drove to her tiny house in Palm Harbor, about ten minutes from the sponge docks in Tarpon Springs. She wished she lived closer, but the places she could afford were a little farther south.

Her cell phone rang right as she pulled into her driveway. When she saw that it was her mother, her stomach lurched. "Lord, give me patience," she whispered as she flipped open the phone.

"Hey, honey."

"Hi, Mom. Did you get the money?"

"Yes, and I wondered if you could send me another couple hundred."

"Another couple hundred? What's going on?"

"I underestimated how much I'd need. Please, Paula, I really need this money."

Paula hadn't asked questions before, but she couldn't keep sending her mother money unless she knew why. "I don't have a lot of money floating around in my checking account. Why do you need so much?"

Her mother sniffled, the first indication that she might be crying. "It's Mack."

Alarms sounded in Paula's head. "Did he hurt you?"

"No . . . well, at least not physically anyway. It's just that . . . well—"

"Mom, you know I'll do whatever I can to help you, but unless you tell me what this is all about, I'm afraid I can't."

"Are you denying your own mother? I didn't realize I raised a selfish little—"

"Whoa. Stop. I've already given you a thousand dollars, so I wouldn't exactly call that being selfish. You know I'll help you. Do you need food?"

"Never mind. I can tell you don't really care about me."

Paula thought about it for a few seconds before she took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "Okay, I'll send you a check for two hundred."

"Can you make that three hundred and send a money order?"

"Sure, I'll do that."

"Would it be too much to ask you to overnight it?"

"Why don't I just send it electronically and have it put in your account?"

"No. If you send it to my bank account, Mack will find out. I want you to send it to my post office box."

"Whatever."

"I'm glad you changed your mind. I'd hate to think my own daughter didn't care about me."

After Paula flipped her phone shut, she sat in her car staring at the front of her house. She'd been saving to do a few more things around the place, but now she'd have to postpone it.

Instead of going inside, she backed out of her driveway and drove straight to the bank for the money order. She managed to get the check in the mail with minutes to spare before the last pickup.

She went inside and looked around at her sparsely decorated living room. She had a sofa and one chair in the living room, blinds on the windows but no drapes to soften the lines. The only decorations she had were a few thrift store finds and discontinued candles from her shop.

The next morning when she arrived at the shop, she saw that Alexa had rearranged some of the display tables. It actually looked better now, but she wished Alexa had consulted her first. She'd have to talk to her about that later. Since they never discussed when Alexa would be back, she had no idea when she'd see her—until Alexa popped in a few minutes after opening.

"So how do you like what I did?" Alexa gestured around the room. "Now people can see everything at once."

"I like it, but in the future please ask me first."

Alexa's smile faded. "I didn't know . . ."

"Don't worry about it. I'm just talking about in the future."

The smile slowly crept back to Alexa's lips. "So you're saying there might be a future for me here?"

"All depends. Do you want to work here permanently, and if so, will your family be okay with it?" Before Alexa had a chance to answer, Paula deposited her purse in the back room then came back out.

"I don't know about permanently, but I'd like to work here as long as I can." She placed one of her bright red fingernails on her chin and thought for a moment. "I think my family will be happy with anything I do."

"That's fine," Paula said. "I can't pay much, but if I keep getting wholesale orders like my last one, I might be able to give you a raise."

Alexa tossed her long black hair over her shoulder. "I don't expect to get rich here, so do what you can. If I need money, I have Mama and Papa."

That was part of the problem, Paula thought, as Alexa put her handbag away. But she wouldn't dare say that. As loving as the Papadopoulos family was, they went overboard pampering their offspring. The guys got different treatment, but they never had to worry about someone being there for them, no matter what they did or where they went. Deep down, she understood why Nick felt the urge to leave, but she'd love to have had a smidge of what the Papadopoulos family provided.

The first customer came in, and Alexa offered her assistance. Paula observed long enough to know that Alexa enjoyed talking about aromatic candles and soaps. Paula rang up the customer, and Alexa bagged the items, talking nonstop about how they were always coming up with new fragrances.

After the woman left, Paula turned to Alexa. "You're good at this."

Alexa offered a shy smile. "Thanks. I like selling this stuff a whole lot more than baking and selling pastries. I always leave the bakery feeling so messy."

"Would you mind tending to the place alone while I run a few errands?"

Alexa gestured toward the door. "Go do what you need to do. I'll be just fine here."

Paula made it almost to her car when she heard her name. She turned around and saw Steph running toward her.

"What's up, Steph?"

"What did you say to Nick yesterday?"

Paula paused for a moment. She'd been so shocked by his dismissal she tried to put it out of her mind. "I just asked if he'd like to come over last night, and he reminded me that I didn't want to see him until today."

"And you left?"

"Of course. He wanted me to, and I'm not one to stick around when I'm not wanted."

Steph groaned. "I can't believe you didn't stand your ground, Paula. One of the things he likes about you is your self-confidence."

"This has nothing to do with self-confidence. It's more about wanting to do the right thing."

"Everyone but you and Nick knows the right thing is for you two to be together. Why do both of you have to be so stubborn?"

Paula laughed. Only Steph would have the nerve to say those things to her. "It's not about being stubborn."

Steph widened her stance and planted a fist on her hip. "Then what is it?"

"We don't want to make any mistakes."

Steph groaned. "If no one ever made mistakes, nothing would get done. You're the one who taught me to push forward to get what you want. If it weren't for you, I never would have moved out of my parents' house."

Paula smiled. "I hope you didn't tell your mom I had anything to do with that."

"You're skirting the issue."

"What issue?" Paula aimed her remote at her car and pushed the "unlock" button.

"You're good." Steph took a couple of steps toward her. "Nick and his parents came to dinner last night. When we asked him about you, he said the same thing you just told me—that he wasn't going to bother you until today."

"He hasn't bothered me yet, so maybe he won't even do that."

"One of you better start bothering the other because next time the rest of my family gets involved, you'll find out just how bothered you can be."

"Now that's interesting," Paula said. "But I don't think your family has to worry about Nick or me. We'll make the right decisions for us."

"Promise?" Steph said.

"Absolutely. But it might not be what you want."

Steph slapped her forehead. "Give me a break. Okay, I'll leave you alone about this—at least for now. But I can't promise the same for my mom or aunts." She turned to leave.

"Hey, Steph." When she turned around, Paula smiled. "Thanks for caring so much. It's nice to know I'm not all alone."

"Oh, trust me, as long as you have the Papadopoulos family around, you'll never be alone—even when you wanna be."

Paula laughed as she got in her car. She felt good about things as she ran her errands to get ready for the large order. On her way back to the shop, she stopped off at her house to grab a bite to eat.

She was about to leave when her phone rang. It was Nick.

"Mind if I come by for a few minutes? I won't be long."

"How long will it take you to get here? I was just about to leave."

"Not long at all. Open your front door."

"How's that for quick?" He grinned as she stood in the doorway, staring at him as though she didn't believe he was there.

"You're full of surprises, Nick. Come on in." She backed away and moved toward her kitchen. "Want something to drink?"

He got the feeling she was more interested in placing some distance between them than in being hospitable. "Sure, whatcha got?"

"Water, orange juice, milk . . . the usual."

"No root beer?"

She narrowed her eyes. "This is me you're talking to, Nick. The only sugar I like is in baklava."

"Yeah, Miss Healthy. I'll take some orange juice then."

She poured two glasses of orange juice, and they sat down at the table between the kitchen and the tiny living room. Her place was small but uncluttered—unlike all the houses in his family, where trinkets littered every available corner and surface. He liked Paula's minimalism.

"So what was so important that you had to come over right now?"

"You don't beat around the bush, do you?"

"Have I ever?" She leveled him with one of those looks she'd been giving him since they first met.

"Nope. I'd be shocked if you did. I just wanted to stop by and ask if you're busy tonight."

She looked down at the table then glanced back up at him. "I'm free tonight."

"Not anymore—that is, if you'd like to hang out with me. I thought we might take a drive down to Clearwater Beach and maybe grab a bite to eat."

With a nod, Paula said, "I'd like that."

"How about tomorrow? With Alexa working for you, can you spare a few hours to go shopping at Countryside Mall with me?"

She drained her juice and set the glass on the table before she met his gaze. "Let's take this one day at a time, okay? Ask me again tonight about tomorrow."

"Sorry, but I'm only here for six weeks, and one of those weeks is almost over. We've already wasted enough time."

Paula fidgeted with the corner of the napkin under her glass. "True. Okay, I can take a couple of hours to go shopping with you tomorrow. What are you looking for?"

He instinctively glanced at her left hand. When he looked up, he saw that she'd noticed. She quickly pulled her hand away and tucked it beneath the table.

"I understand you and Alexa have some sort of arrangement at the shop."

Paula lifted one shoulder and let it drop. "She needed a change of pace."

"I think Steph might be a little jealous."

She tilted her head and gave him a puzzled look. "Jealous? Why?"

"They're both tired of handling food. Can't say I blame them."

"Your mom and aunt would never forgive me if I hired Steph to work for me too, but I could certainly use the extra help."

"Want me to talk to them?"

"Um . . . no. I don't ever need someone else to do my job for me."

"Talking to my mom isn't exactly your job, Paula."

She laughed. "True. But, seriously, if Steph wants to work for me, she can come to me first and then talk to her mother."

Paula's independence had always intrigued him. When she wanted something done, she did it—never any of this manipulative shuffling to get what she wanted.

She stood up and reached for both glasses. "I really need to get back to work. In case no one told you, I just got the biggest wholesale order since I went into business, and it will make a huge difference to my bottom line." She grinned.

He got up and walked to the door. "Don't let me stop you. I'll pick you up at seven, okay?"

On the way to his car, he glanced over his shoulder and saw the blinds move, letting him know she was watching. He lifted a hand in a wave then took off for Apollo's where his dad and uncle asked him to meet them for a man-to-man talk, no doubt to give him some incentive to leave the Air Force and move back home. Only one thing would cut his military career short, and his family had nothing to do with it.