Year of Living Blonde (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 1) (23 page)

He’s not going to be happy to see me.

Hopefully, her apology with a delicious dessert will be enough.

As she moves closer, she sees that he’s surrounded by young women fawning over him like groupies.

I’m surprised he isn’t signing autographs.

Clearly, he’s enjoying himself as he charms them all with his boyish grin. For a moment, Natalie is sucked in like the rest of them, rendered powerless by his smile. Anthony seems so good-natured. It feels familiar, but then she knows all about self-centered men like him from her father.

As the girls all giggle over some joke Anthony just made, Natalie pushes her way through the crowd.

“Excuse me, Anthony?”

He glances over at her. “Yes?”

“Do you have a minute?”

He glances over again, but then does a double take. His brown eyes grow wide as he stares at her for a long moment. “Natalie?”

She tries to hide her nervousness. “I know this is a surprise. I wonder if I could talk to you?”

Some pretty brunette is asking him why there are craters on the moon, but Anthony ignores her.

Instead, he keeps staring at Natalie, his mouth open, an alarmed expression on his face.

He’s probably shocked I have the nerve to show up here.

Natalie holds up her cold pack. “I brought you a peace offering. Do you think I could follow you back to your office?”

Anthony still appears on the verge of panic. “What happened to you? Your hair . . .”

“I know. I had it done blonde.”

“And other
things.
” He looks her up and down.

Some of the girls around him are starting to get irritated. “Professor Novello, we were hoping to meet up with you after class today. Maybe get coffee?”

Continuing to ignore them, Anthony scans the crowd behind her. Natalie turns to see what he’s looking at, but all she finds are more students. Mostly guys. One of them smiles at her, and she smiles back.

Anthony frowns.

“Professor Novello, will you—”

“I’m done answering questions for today,” Anthony says, standing up. “Feel free to email and either my assistant or one of my TAs will get back to you.”

He grabs his satchel.

Natalie is still clutching her cold pack, trying to look humble.

“Are you coming?” he asks.

She glances around and then back to him. “Are you talking to me?”

He shifts his satchel impatiently. “Yes, of course.”

“Oh.” She smiles sheepishly. The women who were fawning over Anthony are now watching Natalie with disappointment instead.

They leave the auditorium together. Anthony walks quickly and Natalie struggles to keep up in her high-heeled boots.

“Is your office much further?” she asks.

“It’s just over in the Physics-Astronomy building.”

His eyes linger on her before he looks away. He’s still wearing an expression that’s bordering on alarm.
I must be really putting him on the spot.

“
I’m sorry if this is a bad time.”

“It’s not, I . . .” Anthony suddenly notices her cold pack and stops walking. “Here, I can carry that for you.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’ve got it.”

He takes it from her hands. She lets him, since it’s his tiramisu anyway.

After what feels like ten miles, they get to his small office. It’s on the third floor of a newer building. Anthony’s desk is in the corner near the window and is crowded with books, papers, and various academic paraphernalia. There’s a bookshelf next to the desk and a whiteboard pushed to one side that’s covered with mathematical equations. She takes a deep breath. It smells like stale coffee and high IQs.

He shoves some papers aside and sets the cold pack down.

Natalie eyes the chair, wishing she could sink into it and take her boots off, her feet hurt so badly.
That’s what I get for trying to be as glamorous as Lena.

“I enjoyed your class,” Natalie tells him politely. “I don’t know much about astronomy, but it was interesting.” Her butterflies are back, but her foot pain is a good distraction. She hopes he doesn’t try and quiz her about the lecture, since she spent more time ogling him than actually paying attention.

He turns to her again, his eyes still lingering. She notices the alarmed expression is gone and instead, he’s studying her with interest.

“I’ve never seen you outside the bakery before.”

“I suppose not.”

“You’re not what I thought. You look . . . different.”

Their eyes meet and a flicker of something passes between them.

“There was no need to sit in on my entire lecture,” Anthony says. “You could have just met me after class.”

Her face grows warm.
He probably knows I’ve been drowning in his sex appeal for an hour.

Anthony pulls his leather satchel off and hangs it on his office chair. “So, I take it you came here to apologize to me again?”

Natalie tries to appear contrite. “How did you know? I would have come sooner, but things were busy with the holidays.”

“So what’s in the package?”

She walks closer to his desk until she’s standing on the other side. His hands are resting on the cold pack and her eyes linger on them. They’re tan and well-shaped with long fingers. She remembers wondering how it would feel if they touched her.

“Open it and see.”

He finds the side zipper and then, after peering into the pack, reaches inside and pulls out the container.

“It’s a tiramisu,” he says in surprise.

“You mentioned once that it’s one of your favorite desserts.”

“You made this?”

“I did. I hope you like it. I tried to make it as authentic as possible.”

Anthony nods slowly. “Thanks.”

Natalie shifts awkwardly from one foot to another. “Well, I’d better get going. I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I know you’re busy.” She thinks of all the young women clamoring for his attention.

“Wait a second, I thought you came to apologize.”

“I did.”

“So where’s my apology?”

Natalie gives him a funny look. “It’s sitting on your desk right in front of you.”

“So it doesn’t include the actual words, I’m sorry?”

“Would you like me to say the actual words?”

“Yes.” Anthony crosses his arms. “I would. Face-to-face.”

Natalie tries not to let her annoyance show. She wants to leave. Her feet are killing her and she’ll probably be crippled by the time she makes it back to her car. “Fine,” Natalie says. “I’m sorry.”

Anthony frowns. “I don’t think so. Try again.”

“I’m very sorry.”

“For what?”

“For being rude to you.”

“Is that it? You can do better than that.”

“Are you kidding me? I
did
do better than that.” She points to her cake. “I baked you the best tiramisu you’ll ever eat in your entire life!”

“We’ll see if that’s true. I’d still like a real apology, though.” A smile plays around the edges of his mouth. “Come on, Natalie. You can do it.”

She leans into the desk, trying to ease the pressure on her feet. “I’m very sorry I called you a
dick,
” she says enunciating slowly. “That was rude of me.”

Anthony chuckles and uncrosses his arms. “Damn, you’re stubborn.”

Natalie tries not to smile, but can’t help herself. “I may have heard that once or twice.”

“I’ll accept your apology on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You stay and have a piece of tiramisu with me.”

“So you can make me grovel some more?”

“Hey, you’re the one having difficulty with a simple apology.” He motions for her to take a seat. “Grab a chair, I’ll be right back. I’m going to get us a couple of forks.”

“Fine,” she mutters and then hobbles over to sit down. “The truth is you had me at the word chair.”

He leaves the office and she reaches down to unzip her boots. Pulling them off, she sighs with nearly orgasmic bliss as she wiggles her toes around. She glares down at the pile of high-heeled leather on the floor.
Devil boots.
It figures something from Lena would cause her so much pain.

While Anthony is gone, Natalie takes in her surroundings.

Anthony’s desk is really cluttered. She wouldn’t have pictured him being so messy. There are papers and books stacked everywhere. There are a couple of cartoons pinned to the wall and she gets up to take a closer look. Astronomy humor. After reading them twice, she still doesn’t get either joke. She sees a Yoda doll still in its case on the bookshelf and picks it up. “Cool,” she murmurs. There’s an X-wing fighter, too, though it’s not in the box anymore. He really does like
Star Wars.
There are all sorts of small objects sitting on a nearby shelf that on closer inspection she realizes are puzzles. There’s a Rubik’s Cube—solved, naturally—and some other wooden puzzles.

Natalie notices a couple of coffee mugs. One has the inscription “Astronomers Do It Better in The Dark,” which makes her smile. She can think of a few things she wouldn’t mind doing with Anthony in the dark.

But then she stops herself
. I wouldn’t do anything in the dark with him. Even if he begged me, which, let’s face it, would be a miracle.
A fantasy comes to her where Anthony’s hands are on her hips. He’s pulling her close, whispering in her ear, begging . . .

She takes a deep breath and wonders how any woman can be around him without losing her mind.

There’s another coffee mug and she picks it up, surprised to see the words “World’s Greatest Dad.”

Is Anthony a dad?
She stares at the mug, trying to make sense of it. He’s never mentioned having a child, but then she barely knows him.

Suddenly, she hears his voice coming down the hall and quickly puts the mug down and takes a seat again. He’s talking to a pretty young woman who follows him into the office. She has a flirtatious smile on her face until she sees Natalie.

“I’m actually in the middle of something right now,” Anthony explains to the woman. “If you want to send me an email, we could set up a time to go over your final.”

“Sure.” The young woman glances at Natalie with frustration. “I guess I can do that.”

After she’s gone, Anthony sets down a couple of paper plates, along with two forks and a knife.

Natalie motions toward the door. “One of your many fans, I see.”

“It never ends,” he says cheerfully, though there’s an edge to his voice.

She watches him pull the cover off the tiramisu and quickly cut a piece for each of them.

“This better be as good you say it is.” His brown eyes meet hers. “I don’t like to be disappointed.”

Natalie feels a nervous tingle run through her. “You won’t be.”

Anthony picks up his plate and takes a bite. She watches the fork slide from his lips, waiting for his reaction.

He chews slowly and seems to be thinking it over. “Not bad,” he finally says.

Natalie’s mouth opens. She worked on this recipe for days and knows for a fact it’s a masterpiece. “Oh, I think you can do better than that,” she mimics him. “Try again.”

Anthony laughs. “All right, I’ll admit it’s delicious.”

“Do you really think so?” Despite her confidence, she discovers that she cares what he thinks.

He takes another bite and closes his eyes while he chews.

It’s hard not to stare at him.
No one should be this good looking. It isn’t natural.

When he opens them again he nods. “You were right. It’s the best tiramisu I’ve ever tasted.”

“It’s not too sweet?”

“No, it’s perfect.”

She smiles. “Thank you. So I don’t have to grovel anymore?”

Anthony’s eyes flicker from her face to her body, lingering briefly on her breasts. He’s wearing an expression she can’t quite place and when he speaks his voice is slightly husky. “No more groveling required.”

Natalie picks up her own cake, but puts it down again when she hears her phone chirp. She gets it from her purse figuring it’s Blair or Chloe. Unfortunately, it’s a text from Lena.

We are all children of the universe. Be at peace. Live! Be filled with joy!

“Not again,” she groans. “I don’t believe this.” It’s been a few weeks since Lena texted and Natalie had hoped she’d finally grown tired of the whole thing.

Anthony, who is eating his cake with enthusiasm, glances over. “What’s wrong?” he asks mid-chew.

“My husband’s mistress keeps texting me.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“Actually, she’s my husband’s fiancée.”

“Your husband has a
fiancée?
”

The comical expression on Anthony’s handsome face forces a laugh out of her. “Actually, he’s my ex-husband now.”

“I remember you said that you were going through a divorce.”

“Yes, it’s finally official. Though he got engaged while we were still married. His lunatic fiancée keeps sending me these awful texts.”

“What do they say?”

“See for yourself.” She hands him her phone.

He puts his cake down and reaches for it. His fingers brush hers briefly as he takes the phone and sits back in his chair.

Anthony chuckles. “Are they all like this?” He thumbs the screen and continues to read. “These are a trip. Wait a minute, she was threatening to charge you with assault and take out a restraining order against you?”