Beautifully Decadent (Beautifully Damaged Book 3) (5 page)

Folding my homemade crème fraîche into the batter for the pear/almond cheesecake, my cell rang which immediately kicked off the butterflies in my belly. I’d been waiting for Trace Montgomery’s call—nervously awaiting his call—which had me baking nonstop because I tended to bake when nervous or upset. My hand actually shook when I reached for my phone.

“Hello.”

“Avery?”

Please don’t say something stupid; please don’t say something stupid.
I did that too, babbled nonsensically when nervous. “Hi Trace.”

“The job is yours.”

I’d thought about this phone call since the day I accepted the interview. I had even practiced how I’d handle the news regardless of which way it went. I’d be poised and collected. Grateful and excited if I got the job or disappointed, but appreciative if I didn’t. Reality, though, was slightly different than my imaginings. My phone slipped from my numb hand to crash loudly on the counter, a sound eclipsed by my screaming—a scream worthy of fangirls at a One Direction concert. I might have even pulled a Kevin McAllister from
Home Alone
by running around my kitchen shaking my arms over my head. I wasn’t sure since my body had a mind of its own and my brain seemed to have shut down. Of one thing I was sure, I was not acting poised or collected.

And then I realized Trace was still on the line. Grabbing my phone, I heard him chuckling. “I’m sorry, have I caused permanent damage to your ear.”

“I’ll live.”

“I really got the job?”

“Your dishes were incredible. Francois is still talking about the lavender cake.”

Oh my God.

“So I’m assuming you’re accepting.”

I hadn’t accepted yet? Poise and collected, not even close. “Yes, of course.”

“Have you found an apartment?”

Some of the glee faded since I hadn’t yet found anything that was even remotely possible. “Not yet.”

“I may have a solution for you. A friend lives in the Bronx and he has a carriage house available for rent. A thousand a month.”

“I’m sorry, did you say the Bronx and carriage house in the same sentence?”

That question earned me a full out laugh. “Yeah, sounds strange, but it’s a small community tucked in the Bronx. I’ll take you. Can you come into the city sometime this week?”

“Any time at all.”

“Okay, how about Thursday? We can meet at Clover.”

The magnitude of this conversation was finally beginning to penetrate. My knees got wobbly even as my heart started to beat in a staccato rhythm in my chest. “I can’t tell you what this means to me. It’s a dream come true. Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

“It’s not a chance, you’ve earned this. We’ll discuss when you start on Thursday.”

“Thank you so much, Mr.…Trace.”

“Nine in the morning at Clover on Thursday.”

“I’ll see you then.”

The line went dead, but I hardly noticed because I got the job! I dialed my mom and didn’t give her a chance to say hello. “I got it.”

Her scream left me partially deaf in my right ear. I’d done similarly to Trace and he had brushed it off. Nice guy. “I knew it. Oh, Avery, congratulations.”

“He may even have a solution for my living arrangements.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. I wish we were there so we could celebrate.”

“We can celebrate by you coming into Clover when your adventures bring you to New York. My treat.”

“You’re on, though Harold won’t let you pay. Keep us posted on the apartment.”

“I will. All right, I’ve got to call Nat and Jessica.”

“Tell them both we said hi. Talk soon, Avery. Congratulations again, honey.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

I called Nat, but she was in surgery. We could celebrate in person. And then I called Jessica.

“You got it.”

Her confidence in me never wavered. “I did, I got it.”

“I knew it. I’m so happy for you. When do you start?”

“I’m not sure yet. My boss has an idea on where I can stay. I’m meeting him in the city on Thursday to check it out.”

“This is big, huge.”

“I know.”

“I want to do something for you, but I don’t know if I could get something coordinated in time.”

“You don’t have to do that, but I really would love for you and the family to visit. Let’s work out some dates once I get settled.”

“I’d love that. You know I love my life, Avery, but I’m a little envious because you’re embarking on another adventure. You’ll have to keep me posted, so I can live vicariously.”

I was surprised to hear those words from Jessica. She had always wanted to get married and have kids; that had been
her
dream.

“I know what you’re thinking and I’m very happy, but my life is here. My life has always been here and until Aidan and any other kids I have are eighteen, here is where it will stay. But the idea of seeing the world, it’s very appealing. Savor this Avery. You’re the intrepid one, going after what you want. Scary as hell and yet, I just know it’s going to lead you to everything you ever wanted.”

“Love you, Jessica.”

“Love you.”

I disconnected the call and wiped at my tears just as the timer for the cheesecake went off. After it cooled, I had two slices.

On Wednesday, I keyed into my sister’s apartment in Chelsea and even being prepared for the mess she lived in, somehow she still managed to offend all of my senses. I wanted to turn around and find myself a hotel with room service and charge it all to Nat, but I wanted to be with my sister more. Since I couldn’t live like this, even for just a night, it was cleaning time. Leaving my bags at the door, I spent the next two hours not just tidying up, but hard-core cleaning. There were freshly laundered clothes on her chair in the living room. Why not just put them away? Her refrigerator, I’m pretty sure an entirely new ecosystem was forming. I threw most of the stuff in her fridge away, and then cleaned the entire unit with Lysol. After, I dusted, mopped floors and headed to the local market for food. When Nat came home around eight that night, she had a clean house and a home-cooked meal waiting for her.

“Oh my God, I hardly recognize the place. Are you sure you don’t want to stay here? I could get used to this.”

“No. You’re a pig.”

“Is that meatloaf?”

“And mashed potatoes and string beans.”

“My death row meal.”

“Yep.”

“Please stay here.”

“You had eggs in your refrigerator that expired seven months ago. Seven months ago. I cannot live in your version of squalor. I’d kill you and then myself and my fabulous new job would go to someone else.”

“I guess I could make an effort to be neater.”

“It’s amazing you haven’t poisoned yourself.”

“I order in most nights. I had the eggs from when Mom visited once.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Anyway, tell me how excited are you. You did it, Avery, you’re the pastry chef for Clover. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m still pinching myself.”

“And as a bonus, you get to be in Trace Montgomery’s sphere all day, every day.”

“His wife is exquisite, his daughter is a little cherub and he is totally and completely hooked and happy to be so.”

“Really, you met the wife?”

“Yeah, Ember. We only said hi, but she seemed very nice.”

“I wish I were Ember.”

“Your Trace is out there somewhere.”

“He needs to make himself known. I want to find someone who looks like Trace and treats me how Harold treats Mom. I’ve never seen her so happy.”

“Yeah, happy enough to sleep in an RV.” Reaching for her hand I added. “Seriously, you’ve got it all going on. You’ll find him.”

“Brain surgery isn’t as glamorous as people make it sound. Talking about gray matter is not stimulating conversation.”

“Take up a hobby?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, but you’ve got to have interests. Maybe you’ll find your perfect man in a knitting circle.”

She tossed a string bean at me. “Funny.”

All teasing aside, I understood where Nat was coming from. It wasn’t that we needed a man, our father was a terrible husband and I’d rather be alone than deal with what Mom had had to deal with. But seeing the other side, how happy finding the right person can make you, yeah, I wanted that for both of us.

“I get it. I want that too. Watching Jess and Kit, I want us both to find that.”

“I don’t understand why it’s so hard.”

“Me neither. Maybe for you they’re intimidated by your large brain.”

“You are so not helpful.” She reprimanded, even as her lips cracked into a smile.

“Bright side, we have each other. When we’re older we can get a house together, combine our cats to create a herd and yell ‘get off my lawn’ to all the neighborhood kids.”

“I’m scheduling a lobotomy for myself on Monday.”

“A lobotomy, I doubt I’ll even notice the difference.”

That earned me a dinner roll in the face. “So, Trace is taking you to a place in the Bronx.”

“Yeah, a carriage house his friend has for rent.”

“In the Bronx?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“What do you suppose this friend is like?”

“Having a friend like Trace, my imagination is going wild but he’s probably happily married to a supermodel.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because I’ve never had much luck when it comes to men.”

“Well, the rent is ideal, so maybe your luck is changing.”

“I can’t believe we’re in the Bronx.” Thursday arrived; Trace and I met at Clover, stopped for coffee and now we were in his car heading to Rafe McKenzie’s house. When Trace mentioned the name of his friend it kind of sealed it for me that the man was going to be hot. It was a great name, no, sexy as hell name. “How did Rafe find this?”

“He’s a woodworker and needed a place that had a large enough yard for his workshop, which focused his search outside of Manhattan. He found a place that needed a hell of a lot of work, but what he’s done to it is nothing short of a miracle. My wife adores it, has started putting a bug in my ear that she’d like to find a home in a similar community. Get Faith into a more suburban-like neighborhood with grass and trees.”

“I love it already. Even if the carriage house is no more than a cardboard box in the backyard with an extension cord, I’m sold.”

“Trust me, the carriage house is way more than that.”

We pulled into a gated drive, one that required a code to access, my eyes landing on the house and instantly I fell in love. A soft, gray stone made up the house that had a pitched roof and a huge covered porch. Gardens were needed to soften the lines where the house met the grass, but the place was exquisite. Pulling into the back, the carriage house—a nice-sized building with the same gray stone of the house, and white trim work—sat off to the left of the detached garage. The one-time carriage doors had been removed and were replaced with exquisite rustic doors with large windows to bring more of the light inside. Just past the carriage house was a huge heather gray barn: the workshop.

Trace’s question pulled me from my study. “What do you think?”

“It’s wonderful.”

“Rafe isn’t here, he’s making a delivery; I’ll show you around.”

I didn’t need to see the inside. I loved it and the price was a steal especially seeing what I’d be getting for it. But to Trace, I said, “Okay.”