Page 10 of Bake You Mine (Port Fortune #1)

I deleted my post from yesterday since a few people took it too far and left negative reviews for Petit Chou and troll comments across Aubrey’s social media.

They’ve been reported, and we’ve narrowed down who most of the commenters are.

I’ve contacted them privately to let them know that their actions in my name were uncalled for and not reflective of who I am.

Aubrey is my competition, sure. More importantly, she’s also my colleague and neighbor.

Anyone who disrespects her disrespects me.

I’ve already apologized in person, but I’ll say again: I’m so sorry.

Aubrey handed Ella her phone back, unsure of what to say. She’d expected him to post something on his story, an apology that would disappear in a day. This was the real deal. She was starting to wonder if Liam was, too.

Samantha propped her elbows up on the counter and batted her eyelashes.

“That man is such a freaking dreamboat. Y’know, I was scrolling through accounts, for science, of course.

Did you happen to see that story from a couple of days ago, wearing gray sweatpants?

I think he was holding a salad or something, but who cares about that?

I wanted to comment a row of red-faced tongue-out emojis. ”

Rather than confirm or deny that she’d seen that photo (she had, and it had taken every ounce of willpower to swipe away), Aubrey said, “I owe him another apology. I was kind of a bitch to him this morning.”

“Nobody can stay mad at you for long,” Ella said. “Not even hot chef.”

“I don’t know. Liam and I could go into a grudge match if we wanted to. I’ll be right back.”

Going out of her way to see Liam again was a terrible idea. Especially since he’d rattled her entire being, between the sweatpants and the squeeze on her bare shoulder, she should be running with her troops over the hill, waving the white flag, not running right back into battle.

Or maybe she should stop watching WWII documentaries with her father. Regardless, she’d also turned up at his apartment, ready for war. She couldn’t help but feel terrible.

She walked down the alley to Elevation. It would be her first time setting foot inside the restaurant. Because, yes, she’d been that committed to the idea of keeping him at a distance.

Liam popped out of Elevation’s open back door as she approached, scaring the bejesus out of them both. Aubrey jumped and careened against the brick wall.

“Jesus! You scared me half to death.” He clapped a hand to his chest.

“No more than you scared me!”

They glared at one another.

After a few long seconds, he smiled and kicked the door closed. He held up a key. “Care to join me?”

With a nod, she followed him. She found herself transfixed by how his hair cascaded across his forehead as he bent slightly to insert the key into the lock.

The door opened, and they stepped inside, their footsteps echoing on the creaky hardwood floor.

He flicked on the lights, and a spotlight appeared directly over his head, as if he needed any more reason to resemble one of those Renaissance angel paintings.

God, he was some kind of gorgeous.

“It’s a weirdly shaped space, but it’s got potential, huh?” He turned so they faced one another.

It was a dream come true. A dream only one of them could hope to have in the end.

“I saw your post, and I wanted to apologize again for how I acted this morning. I was up in your face before sunrise.”

He pushed that crazy dark hair out of his eyes, and she slowly backed herself into the doorframe to steady herself. Liam was that guy, the one who made women swoon just by smiling at them. She needed hot chef kryptonite.

“You were pissed, and I was indirectly responsible for sending the troll army your way. I harbor no grudges. I’m sorry that this is partially due to my ex punishing you to get to me.”

“I appreciate you handling it so swiftly. For now, my comments are free of trolls.”

“We both have pretty big followings, and the trolls like to come out from under their bridges occasionally,” Liam said.

“Never like that. People come to my page for pictures of my work, not for me.”

Liam smiled, showing off the partial dimple on his left cheek. Because, of course , he had to check off every trait in the hot guy handbook. “You really think that, huh?”

His words struck her sideways. They were acquaintances, once distant, now friendly. It had to stay that way. She cleared her throat. “Not all of us are hot chef.”

He started to say something, but stopped. “I’m glad for that. It’s not a title I’m particularly fond of, to be honest.”

She peered up at him. “Hmm, I’m beginning to see more depth to you beyond your looks.”

“Amazing what you can find out when you do more than grunt at me from across the parking lot, huh?”

She let out a sputtering laugh. “I’ve never grunted at you.”

“Before this week, I think our deepest conversation was about the price of produce.”

Oh, if only she could tell him the reason for all that—because he was proving her right. Getting to know him was supposed to make her crush fade, not intensify.

She had to reel this back in and fast. “I’m an introvert. What can I say?”

He held her gaze, that dimple deepening. “Okay, if you say so.” He gazed past her at the clock on the wall. “Anyway, I’m glad we handled it quickly. Can we talk later about the dinner? I should get back.”

“Of course. I’m sorry again, Liam.”

With a smile, he waved off her apology. “I already told you we’re cool. You can buy me a drink at the cocktail party if you want to.”

“Won’t they be free, though?”

He chuckled. “That’s why I said it, you don’t owe me…you know what? Sorry, that was a lame attempt at a joke. I’ll see you later.”

He left her with a crush that, no matter what she did, deepened by the second. Conquering her feelings for him was a losing battle.