I Hate, I Bake, and I Don’t Date! by Alina Jacobs

31

Tess

Iyawned. It was too early in the morning. Enola had a report on nineteenth-century housing in New York City that her history teacher had just now said was due when she went back to school on Monday. We were going to grab pictures of buildings close to my neighborhood because, apparently, I lived in a tenement house.

“I wish I lived in the 1800s!” Annie said, skipping beside me. “You can wear a big pretty dress and ride on a beautiful ocean liner and have a steamer trunk and marry a rich guy with a big house with huge windows.”

“Clearly, you have good taste,” I told her. “And I know Beck gave you a business reading list, but I think it’s time we read a little Emily Brontë.”

“Can we eat brunch after this?” Annie asked as Enola took pictures of the buildings. We followed her into an alley to take pictures of the fire escapes that had been there for the last hundred years.

“Now that you live in Manhattan, officially, you’re going to have to get with the program. If you want to see the worst of humanity, you go to brunch on a Sunday.”

“Please?” Annie begged.

“Fine, but when we have to wait an hour for room-temperature eggs Benedict, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“We could ask Beck to come meet us.”

Ever since we’d had it out at the sushi restaurant, he’d been nicer to me. Well, maybe not so much nicer but more like less of an asshole. He wasn’t domesticated by any means. He still had that edge that pushed him over from attractive to sexy.

No, not sexy.

But of course he was. Not that I found him attractive!

Except that you do.

He was an asshole.

But he did care about his sisters, and he actually listened to you and implemented your advice, which was…

Which was very sexy.

“I found you!”

Shit.

“I am not in the mood,” I warned Kaden.

“I can get you in the mood,” he said, grabbing his crotch.

It was early Sunday morning, and no one was out. Yet here was Kaden. He blocked the entrance to the narrow alley.

Beside me, the girls buzzed with anxiety.

The alley dead-ended into a tall chain-link fence. The girls were athletic and could probably make it over the gate, but the only exercise I’d had in the last few months was the walk from the fridge to the stove.

Still, I wasn’t going to let Kaden see I was afraid.

“And you’re cornering someone in the alley,” I said, trying to project bored calm. “How cliché.”

“Just come see my apartment,” he whined. “You have to. I’m behind on rent!”

“I already told you I am not moving in with you,” I shot back.

Kaden advanced down the alley.

“We should call the police,” Annie cried.

“We are not calling the police on this loser,” I said hotly, suddenly furious at Kaden for scaring the girls. “I’m not wasting their time.”

“I’m not a loser!” Kaden screamed at me, red in the face. “I have a new job and an apartment for us, Tess!”

“There is no us, and you need to step the fuck back.”

“It’s fine if you have kids,” he said, coming closer. “We can all be one big happy family.”

“No thanks,” I declared.

In anticipation of a long, drawn-out day of historical-building photography, I had brought a well-packed bag.

“Just come on and I’ll show you,” Kaden said, reaching for Annie’s arm.

She screamed, and I hauled back my purse and caught Kaden in the chest.

He cursed, and I raised my arm to slug him again. Kaden lunged, grabbing the bag.

We struggled.

I was furious! How dare he try to touch Annie?

“Leave me alone!” I yelled, kneeing him in the stomach. Through my tangled hair, I saw him fly backward and hit the pavement.

Dang, I guess I’m stronger than I thought.

“Beck!” Enola yelped.

I straightened. Beck was standing over Kaden, who was groaning on the ground.

Or not.

“He tried to kidnap Tess,” Enola said shrilly. “He wants to take her to his compound.”

“Good lord,” I mumbled, suddenly feeling humiliated. “I had it under control.”

“No, you didn’t,” he snarled at me.

I shrank back.

Beck loomed over Kaden.

“She’s my girlfriend,” my stalker wheezed. “We were just having a lovers’ spat.”

“We only went on two dates. We are not dating. I do not date, understand? You need to leave me alone,” I shrieked.

“Just come—”

“No,” Beck hissed, grabbing Kaden by the collar. “She is not going anywhere with you.”

“This is a free country!”

“It is,” Beck said, voice going eerily calm. “But you know what’s not a free country? Somalia. And if you ever come near Tess again, I’m going to have you kidnapped, put on a plane, and dumped in the middle of Mogadishu with no passport, no ID, no nothing.”

“You can’t do that. You’re just some spoiled rich kid.”

Beck gave him a toothy smile. “Believe me, I’m not some soft trust fund kid. I grew up in the middle of a compound in the desert fighting for food. I built my company out of nothing. And I am the son of one of the evillest men in the country, and don’t think for a minute that I didn’t inherit enough from my father to just let you and your bullshit slide.”

My boss released Kaden, and he stumbled to the ground.

“So go ahead and try me,” Beck said, tone almost pleasant. “Take one step closer to Tess and see what happens.”

Kaden looked between me and Beck and the alley entrance.

“You’re missing out,” he told me.

Beck grabbed him roughly by the collar. “Don’t talk to her,” he said softly. “Don’t even think about her. My company runs the traffic camera system in this city, and don’t think I won’t be watching your every move.”

Kaden sulked out of the alley.

Beck turned back to us, gray eyes dark.

I tried to smooth down my clothes, suddenly conscious of how much of a mess I looked.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked harshly.

Dang, I guess a firing is incoming.

“I’m sorry, Beck,” I blurted. “I didn’t think he was that dangerous. I’m so sorry I put the girls in harm’s way.”

But instead of firing me, Beck took me in his arms.

“Are you okay?” he asked, smoothing down my hair.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, feeling shaky and embarrassed. “I’m not some porcelain-skinned, high-society Victorian lady. I’m from pioneer-woman stock. When I’m thirty-five, I’ll have hips as wide as a Volkswagen, but I’ll plow a field from dawn ‘til dusk.”

Beck ran a thumb over my chin. “You should have told me he was bothering you. I would have taken care of it.”

“Seemed like overkill.”

“We told her,” Annie and Enola said, crowding around him. “We told her to tell you because you would get rid of him.”

Beck hugged each of them.

“You can always tell me anything,” he assured them. Then he looked up at me. “Seriously, Tess, I’m here for you. We’re family. We look out for each other.”

Family?

Um, no. Along with no dating, I did not do family. I didn’t trust family. Family claimed to be family until, oops, never mind, we didn’t mean it. We’re just going to throw you out with only the clothes on your back.

“Right,” I said, feeling a pit in my stomach.

“Can we have brunch?” Enola asked.

“I think Tess absolutely needs brunch,” Beck said, wrapping an arm around my waist because, uh, why? Because he felt sorry for me? Because he felt possessive? Because he felt like we were family?

Don’t mind me. I’m just over here having an existential crisis.

“Tess said she doesn’t like brunch,” Annie said, leading us to the street.

“You?” Beck asked in exaggerated shock as he led me out of the alley, strong arm firm around my waist. No, it wasn’t a fluke, he definitely was pressing me against him like we were boyfriend and girlfriend.

Lovers.

Dating.

Ahhhgggrrrh!

I almost wished he would have fired me.

You led him on; you were flirting, I scolded myself.

Beck’s hand came slowly up my back, rubbing circles between my tense shoulder blades. It was an achingly familiar gesture.

Would it really be so bad if you did date Beck?

What the—

Yes! It would be bad! Because he is your boss!

“I like brunch,” I said, trying to keep it together. “But not the crazy brunch rush when half of Manhattan wakes up hungover and stumbles down the street to demand extra hollandaise from servers who got off their last shift at three in the morning and have to turn around and come in at eight for brunch service.”

“You just have to go to a nice brunch place,” Beck said mildly, helping me into his car.

“I’m not dressed for a nice brunch,” I retorted.

“You look beautiful,” he assured me.

I tried to calm down as the car drove us in the direction of Central Park. We pulled up in front of the Porter restaurant.

The hostess led us right to a table; we didn’t even have to wait.

“I was going to surprise you all,” Beck admitted. “I made reservations.”

The girls were excited to watch the horses through the window as they frolicked in the park with their riders.

“Can we go out on the balcony and see them?” Annie begged as the waitress came by to take our orders.

“Sure,” Beck said. “But tell me what you want to eat first.”

“I want all of it,” Annie replied, flipping through the menu.

“My sentiments exactly,” I said.

I’d had a hard morning, topped off with a dollop of confusion by Beck. I couldn’t process all the feelings without food.

“We’re definitely getting the peach-stuffed French toast,” I said, “and eggs Benedict because duh. Also crab cakes. And this giant cinnamon roll.”

I made a mental note to bake cinnamon buns later in the week.

“We also need an order of the smoked salmon and egg salad on a baguette. Also a giant pitcher of Bloody Marys and a pitcher of mimosas. Also hash browns. That should do it. Beck, what do you want?”

“I can’t have any of what you just listed?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Uh, no. That is my food. Girls, you want me to triple the order for you?”

They nodded then ran out to watch the horses.

Beck huffed a laugh.

“I just had a very stressful morning!” I protested.

“I’ll have an omelet.” He handed the waitress the menu.

“And he’s going to want the crab cakes,” I told the server. She gave me a thumbs-up and left to put in our order.

“I can just have some of the girls’ crab cakes. They aren’t going to eat that much.”

I snorted. “Two nights ago, Annie almost stabbed me with a fork when I tried to take one of the dumplings on her plate.”

Beck seemed suddenly sad. “Food was always scarce on the compound.” He ran a hand along the back of his neck. “My sisters were tasked with cooking, though they didn’t have much to work with. Our mothers were always pregnant or had just given birth. It was such a shit show. They were so young. My brothers and I would always try to help them, but then my father would find out and scream at us, and we’d all just scatter to avoid him and his violence.”

Beck looked so young then, the skin around his eyes tight with worry.

I reached out and ran two fingers over his brow. “But he’s in jail now, right?” I asked, trailing my fingers down to his jaw.

He turned his head slightly, his lips brushing my hand. “Thankfully. Hopefully he’ll be gone for a while.”

I slid his Bloody Mary over to him. “Drink that. It has bacon in it.”

He smiled softly then looked at me seriously. “I promised myself I’d do anything for them. I don’t want them to end up like Livy.”

“She didn’t come back with your other sisters?”

“No,” Beck said, mouth turned down. “Crawford thinks my father married her off.”

His face was anguished. I hugged him.

“We don’t know where she is. We can’t find her. She just disappeared.”

I rested his head against my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

He leaned back. “Livy never had a chance at life. She never got to live, never got to experience anything other than the compound and taking care of us. I’m never going to forgive myself for not rescuing her.”

“Maybe she’ll turn up,” I said after a moment. “From what I’ve seen of you Svenssons, you all are extremely difficult to get rid of.”

He smiled at me. “The billionaires club, stupid name, but they produce a lecture series for newly minted billionaires. Most of it is just bullshit, old boys’ club stuff. They never liked me and my brothers. But one thing they did say was that if you want to stay successful and keep your edge, you can’t surround yourself with yes men. You need people who will call you out on your shit.”

He tipped my chin up. “You’re one of those people for me, Tess. You’re invaluable. It’s a rare gift to speak the truth to a powerful person, even when it’s something they may not want to hear.”

I raised my glass to him. “I am more than happy to call you an idiot any time, any place.”