The Holiday Swap(28)

Charlie had been about to say, “I don’t know how Cass manages to do all of this without a website or online ordering . . .” but caught herself.

“I think it’s time for a Web presence for the bakery,” she said instead. “I know it’s the way things have always been done, taking orders by phone, but it slows down the process. A website with online ordering would make things much more efficient.”

“I could help you, if you want.”

“How so?” Charlie asked. Jake seemed about to answer, but then Darla was back, placing the chilis in front of them, steam rising from the deep bowls. She then returned a moment later with the pullaparts, a circle of soft milk buns, dripping with butter and melted cheddar cheese. Charlie breathed in deeply through her nose, wishing she could smell all the mingling, comforting scents surely rising from their food—savory notes from the chili, a sweet aroma from the baked rolls, the garlicky butter sharp and mouthwatering. But there was nothing.

Jake put a dollop of sour cream onto his chili, followed by some pepper flakes and ground black pepper, then picked up his spoon. But he stopped when he saw Charlie just staring into her bowl.

“Something wrong with your chili?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Bon appétit!” Charlie also added some sour cream to her bowl, then took a large spoonful, feeling hopeful. But all she could feel was the sensation of the hot chili in her mouth. No flavors, no hint of spice. She forced down another spoonful, because she knew her body needed the food, even if it was unappetizing. After the second bite, her stomach grumbled happily.

Jake offered her the plate of buns. “Thanks,” she said, taking one. “So, tell me more about how you can help. With the website?”

“I could take pictures for you.”

“You’re a photographer?” As if this guy could get any better, Charlie mused. She took a bite of the bun, the top crust shiny with melted butter. She was about to ask about his photography when she noticed Jake had stopped eating, his spoon poised above his chili.

“What?” Charlie asked, taking another bite of the garlic bun. Her fingers dripped with butter, and she used a paper napkin to wipe away the grease. If only she could taste what she was eating.

Jake looked at her strangely, placing his spoon back in the bowl. “You know I do photography, Cass,” he said. “I’ve been taking photos for Brett’s listings. For house stagings?” Then he shook his head. “Sorry, maybe he hasn’t mentioned it? I sort of assumed . . .” Jake seemed uncomfortable bringing up Brett, and Charlie tried to catch up.

“No, of course. Staging photos. Yes. I just—”

This second embarrassing moment of the evening was interrupted by the sound of her sister’s name being called across the bar. She looked up: it was Brett, standing by the door. Why was he always showing up at the worst times?

Brett approached their table, his cheeks colored by the cold, his hair perfectly gelled in place, a neutral plaid scarf meticulously tied around his neck. “What are you two doing?”

Charlie opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Jake stood and gave Brett’s hand a shake. “Want to join us?” he asked.

“No thanks, I’ve got some work to do.” Brett glanced at Charlie. “Hey, babe, I was trying to call you, but it went to voicemail. A bunch of times.”

“Oh really?” His use of the term babe grated at her nerves. Charlie suspected Cass had turned off her phone because of Brett’s incessant calling, but knew she had to offer an explanation on the spot. “Yeah, my phone is dead. I haven’t had a chance to charge it. The bakery has been nonstop.”

Brett frowned. “Hmm. Well, I don’t like not being able to get a hold of you.” Charlie gave him a wan smile, not liking his proprietary tone.

“I was going to pick us up some take-out, but it looks like you’re all set.” Brett gestured to the dishes on the table, eyebrows raised. Cass had said she and Brett had broken up, hadn’t she? So why did her sister’s ex seem to think getting take-out for the two of them made any sense?

“Yup, all set.” Charlie smiled again at Brett, then at Jake, who didn’t seem to know where to look. Then she picked up her spoon and took another bite of her chili.

“Can we talk later?” Brett said quietly to Charlie, his eyes flicking to Jake. But before she could answer, Brett’s assured smile was back. He raised a hand and waved at Darla, who was loading takeaway packages into a paper bag.

“Guess I’ll have leftovers for tomorrow,” Brett said. He put his gloves back on before taking the bag from Darla, flashing a smile that looked forced. “Enjoy your dinner, you two.”

“Will do!” Charlie said brightly. Brett stared at her a moment longer, no longer smiling. Charlie held his gaze, waiting for him to be the first to look away, which he finally did before heading back out the door.

“Well, that was awkward,” Charlie murmured.

“Look, Cass. I hope I didn’t just make things worse?” Jake said, looking sheepish. “I heard the two of you broke up, but I promise my only intention tonight was to fix your blood sugar issue.”

“It’s fine, honestly.” Charlie felt a moment of disappointment at his words, but then raised an eyebrow. “Wait . . . heard we broke up from whom?”

“Sharon, actually. I bumped into her earlier.” Jake winced slightly. “Sorry, I know it’s really none of my business.”