Page 8 of Pretty Desperate (Pine Village #6)

“Umm, listen,” I start, trying to figure out how to let him down easy. “I appreciate you taking the time to come in and see me.”

He gives me a small, slightly uncomfortable grin. “I feel a but coming…”

“ But ,” I start, my brain spinning. Sure, I can tell him I’m just not interested. While he appears to be a decent-looking guy, he doesn’t exactly do it for me. I’m not attracted to him, and even if I was, I don’t want to be set up by my parents.

How embarrassing…

Kameron pops into my mind. Oh, I’m very much attracted to the gorgeous chef, and it hits me like a ton of bricks to the abdomen, I have an out. One I probably never would have used until today. “Actually, George, I’m seeing someone.”

His face falls. “Oh. Your parents didn’t tell me that,” he insists, taking a sip of his coffee.

“It’s new,” I quickly reassure him. “We haven’t really gone public with it, which is why I haven’t said anything to my parents about him.”

He watches me, probably trying to gauge my sincerity where my sudden boyfriend is concerned. If I were in his shoes, I probably wouldn’t believe it either. It looks too convenient, too made up.

Clearing his throat, he nods. “I understand.” He takes a longer sip of his coffee before averting his gaze. “I’m sorry to have bothered you while you’re working.”

“It’s okay,” I reply politely. “I’m sorry you made a wasted trip here.”

He shrugs and gives me a sheepish grin. “I don’t know if it was wasted. I get to enjoy an excellent cup of coffee and sit with a pretty lady for a bit.”

I give him a genuine smile.

“And as amazing as your parents said your pastries are, I’m definitely going to indulge a little and grab some to-go. My assistant will appreciate the sweet treat.”

I can’t help but smile wider at his polite regard for his assistant. “Does she have a favorite? I’d be happy to box up a few things for you.”

We stand up and make our way to the counter. George looks over today’s offerings and selects a small variety of four pastries. “They all look delicious,” he says as I slide the small white box over the counter.

“All made fresh this morning,” I boast, even though he didn’t ask. It’s one of my big selling points at Flour Power. Nothing is carried over and sold the next day. All freshly baked with only the best ingredients.

“How much?” he asks, taking the offered box.

I wave my hand. “It’s on me.”

“Oh, no, I insist,” he pushes, pulling his wallet from the back of his pressed slacks.

“Really. An apology, of sorts, for the confusion today.” I rock back on my heels, needing the movement to keep myself occupied.

“Well, thank you,” he starts, glancing around the bakery. There are two women and a small child not too far away, enjoying cinnamon rolls and coffee drinks. Leaning over the counter, he adds, “I was hoping for a second date, but I suppose the pastries are a solid trade-off.”

I give an uncomfortable chuckle. “I’m glad you think so.”

He shrugs and turns to leave. “Oh, one more thing. Who does your taxes?”

“My—”

“Your taxes,” he says, slipping something from his pocket and setting it on the counter. “If you’re ever looking to switch accountants, my office is in Hudson.” With that, he turns and leaves the bakery.

And I’m standing here completely flabbergasted.

“What was that?” Lisa asks, standing directly to my left.

I sigh and shake my head. “My parents.”

She looks baffled as she looks from me to the front door. “I don’t understand.”

“My parents sent him. Like…for a date. A coffee date.”

Her eyes widen like saucers as her mouth falls open. “What? Are you serious?”

“Yep,” I insist, popping the P. “Apparently, they made good on their promise to find me an eligible bachelor to date. That was George, an accountant from Hudson,” I state, holding up the business card.

“Of course, my parents conveniently forgot to tell me they were sending someone by, so I was completely caught off guard.”

“Oh my God,” Lisa bellows, covering her mouth with her hand. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“That’s messed up,” Lisa says, glancing at her watch.

I sigh, worrying about the conversation I would now have to have with my parents.

I had hoped what I said on Sunday would get through to them, but apparently not.

I don’t want them to set me up. I want them to respect my decisions and not project their wants onto me.

They want to see me married. They want grandkids.

They’re tired of waiting for me to achieve this on my own, so they’re sending “dates” to my place of business.

“I need to get the cookies finished,” I state as the bell chimes over the door, alerting us to an arriving customer.

“Go. I’ll handle up here,” she says, turning her attention to the group of four ladies approaching the counter.

I return to the kitchen and wash my hands. My mind is spinning as I grab the bowl of dry ingredients and add the wet. Once it’s all inside the bowl, I place it under my big mixer and start the machine. Retrieving a fresh baking pan, I prep it for the cookie dough.

Maybe this deal with Kameron isn’t such a terrible thing after all.

I mean, I knew I’d be able to use it to my advantage where my parents are concerned, but now it’s more blatantly obvious.

I need him as much as he needs me. Not only will I get a contract to provide the desserts to his restaurant moving forward, but he’ll be able to get my parents off my back, even for just a short time.

A very welcomed short time.

I hate the idea of lying, but if it keeps random dudes from showing up at my bakery for a “date,” well, then so be it.

A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.