Chapter 8

"What can I get you?" the cashier asks cheerily.

I step forward in line and smile. "I'll have an iced vanilla latte, please."

"Sure, anything else?"

I peek in the display case. "A chocolate croissant, please. That'll be it." I hand him my credit card, then go to wait by the barista counter.

"Ana? Is that you?"

I turn at the voice that's becoming familiar and smile widely. "Mia! Hey, how are you?"

She gets up from her table and nearly skips over to me. She's dressed in tight black jeans and a black T-shirt, looking unfairly put together and fashionable for an outfit so simple. "How is it that you're in my favorite coffee shop right now? Does fate want us to be friends that badly?"

"Is it your favorite? I just decided to try a new one as my workspace today."

"It's near my restaurant. I'm just getting good and caffeinated before I head over there."

"Ana?" the barista calls.

I pick up my cup and plate and nod a thank you. "Ah, in true barista form, they spelled your name wrong," she comments with amusement.

I laugh. "Well, in their defense, most people with my name don't have to shorten it."

"Come, sit with me!" She takes my elbow and gently steers me towards her table. "So, what are you working on?"

I take a bite of my croissant and chew thoughtfully. "Well… nothing super concrete yet. More of an idea."

"For what? A story?"

I shake my head. "Not quite. A business opportunity. I was going to put some time into research."

"Oh, a publishing company?"

"No… I found this lovely little bookshop a little while ago and the owner was talking about wanting to buy the place next door and expand and make it some kind of… tea room or something. She originally said coffee shop, but as you can see, we've got plenty of those here. I thought it was an intriguing idea, and I do have the means to invest, but I need to figure out the logistics."

Her mouth pops open. "That sounds incredible. Just the sort of culture this place is lacking. I love the idea of being able to spill the tea with the girls and find a good book for a lazy Sunday in the same space. The best of both worlds!"

I take another bite of croissant and hum appreciatively. "Eating this is making me think we'll have to get a bakery on board or something."

Mia taps her chin. "I've been to high tea a few times and every one of them have had a chef on staff. So you might want to look into something like that. Then you could have a cool, rotating menu. Actually, I might be able to help you there!"

"Really?" Wow. Industry connections really do come with the Grey territory.

"Absolutely. I have to run now, but I'll tell you what. Why don't you come by my restaurant, say, Tuesday? We're not open to the public then, but I'll do one my renowned chef's tables. We can talk about all of this. Are you free?"

I realize this is the first time in a long time that I've been invited to something not as a result of being with Cam. "I am, and I'd love to."

"It's settled then! I'll get to planning a menu. Not to toot my own horn, but I'm good. You'll love it." She stands up and gives me a warm smile and a wave. "See you soon!"

I smile and wave back, my head spinning as I watch her breeze out of the store. My abstract idea is starting to feel more and more plausible, and Seattle is starting to feel almost welcoming. I open my laptop to get to work.

I thank the parallel parking gods for their generosity as I get out right in front of Chez Mia. It looks very chic, probably the kind of place I'd have passed on the street seven years ago and barely seen because I knew I couldn't afford it. How things change.

In my experience, the world of any sort of business, publishing included, is male-dominated. It's so refreshing that my two main contacts in this new exploration of mine have been female.

Speaking of male business… A fleeting glance at my phone shows me a text from Cam. Since we talked, he's been home a hair earlier in the night, and texts and calls me more often. It's a nice change, even if it still doesn't quite feel like… us. Rather, the us I was used to before all of this.

Did you know that today is World Manatee Day?

Granted, it's mostly small talk. We're not the best at written banter.

They have a day for everything.

I slip my phone into my purse after I respond and hoist open the heavy wooden door. The inside is modern and minimalist, but somehow also homey. There are plenty of plants and warm tones inside, giving off a Scandinavian vibe. The place is empty, but I hear activity going on towards the back, so I head in that direction.

"Hello?" I call softly.

"Ana!" I hear Mia call jovially from the kitchen. "Perfect timing. I just finished the last course. Come with me!"

She leads me back into a private room. "I get the feeling that this is the most prestigious invitation I've ever had. This place looks amazing."

"We may be booked out a few months in advance," she says with a wink. "But you're welcome anytime. I'll be right back! Have a seat!"

I sit down and busy myself with unfolding my napkin, and Mia is back in a moment carrying a platter. "Appetizer. I've made us a tomato gallette."

It's intriguing, like the five-star version of a pizza. I take a bite and feel my eyes widen. "Holy shit."

She laughs. "That is the appropriate reaction." I continue to devour this rich man's pizza as she plates herself some. "So… let's talk logistics. What have you learned?"

I tell her about the research I've done on things like city permits, and she nods in understanding. She responds with some information more relevant if we'd like to include a kitchen, and I realize that that's going to have to be the case if we want to include a chef. This is brand new territory to me, and I feel even more grateful for Mia's influence in my life.

She discusses some of the pastry chefs who might fit the profile for a simple tea room, giving me some names I can contact. "Just tell them you're a friend of Mia Grey. It's silly, but the name does carry some weight around here."

She excuses herself to get our entrée, and brings out spinach and ramp tortellini made from scratch with a side of lobster Cobb salad. I feel my mouth watering. I take a bite of each and make a soft groaning sound. "Mia, I don't mean to be forward, but will you marry me?"

She laughs heartily. "I think you're spoken for in that department. Maybe I'll be the one to yell when they say speak now at your wedding. And speaking of your betrothed, I guess your name probably carries some weight around here, too."

"It's not my name," I say automatically.

"Not yet." She eyes me with an unreadable expression for a moment. "So… Lake Como, is it?"

I fail to conceal my sigh. "Who knows."

"It… sort of seemed like you didn't. Haven't you had wedding conversations?"

I stab a piece of tortellini with my fork with more force than strictly necessary. "Honestly, we don't have many conversations at all." She is silent for a beat, and I look up to her disapproving expression. "I mean, of course we talk," I backpedal. "It's just with all the changes lately, I guess, we've been… drifting apart a little. But I'm sure it's temporary."

"Drifting apart in what sense?" she asks. She doesn't say it in a nosy way, but more a genuinely curious, concerned way.

"We just don't see each other much. He's always working, and I truly mean always. Honestly, I usually see him at official dinners, like the one we all had. We had a bit of a tiff about that outside of your house. I hope no one could tell." How mortifying that would have been.

"No, you didn't seem at odds, but you did seem…" She appears to be searching for words.

"What?" I ask, my anxiety prickling.

"I don't know. I don't know either of you very well, of course, but I guess you just seemed a little businesslike with each other. Like you were both there for a meeting or something."

My shoulders sag. "I feel that way sometimes. Like I'm playing a character when I'm with him in public. It's a strange new dynamic. We've been together for years, and it's always felt like our relationship has naturally grown as we've both grown… now, it's confusing. Sometimes I think we might be growing in different directions."

She gives me a sympathetic look. "It must be hard to be with powerful men like that. Lord knows Christian seems like he'd be hell to live with. He's always in correspondence with colleagues, but I can't get a call back. Well, look who I'm talking to," she giggles. "I'm sure you know."

I take a large gulp of wine. "You know, he actually talked to me pretty often. We emailed a lot. I didn't feel neglected in that way."

"You felt neglected in other ways?" My fork stops in midair as she asks this. "Oh, jeez, Ana, I'm sorry. Totally inappropriate question. God, forget I said anything."

I reach for the wine again. "It's fine. We were just not a fit for each other. We couldn't make each other happy, and we were very different people, that's all. It's not so interesting of a tale." The BDSM part spiced it up a bit, but you know.

"You guys seem pretty simpatico now. Christian usually sneers at people he isn't directly related to, but it seems like you two can chat and… I don't know, coexist. Trust me, that's a rarity for him." I hum in acknowledgement, stuffing another bite in my mouth so I don't have to answer, because I honestly don't know how to. "Sorry," she laughs. "I'm not trying to make things awkward. I just mean, it's nice to see him have a friend. Or even an acquaintance."

"I always thought he was probably too solitary," I admit. I even find myself a bit glad that we're in a place now that we can coexist. From a healthy distance, of course… I clear my throat.

"Cam seems more personable than Christian ever is. Maybe you guys are just having growing pains with all of this new stuff," she suggests.

"Maybe," I agree. "So, how do you know all these chefs? Did you go to school together?"

She launches into the subject change, and I relax now that the topic is off my troubled love life and my former flame. The two in the same conversation make me uncomfortable, even though they couldn't be more different.

She brings out a beautiful dessert of olive oil cake, the wine continues to flow, and we continue to chat like old friends. "Kate keeps telling me I should hire a chef and a bodyguard and all that jazz. Maybe if you're available?"

"As a chef or a bodyguard?" she giggles. "I know Krav Maga, so I could do either."

"I meant chef," I clarify with a laugh.

"Ah. Unfortunately, I have a day job. But we should do this again! And you must keep me informed in all of your tea room adventures."

I look at the time on my phone and stand up. "I will. Thank you so much for the help, and for the best meal I've ever had. If this restaurant doesn't work out, I'll pay you whatever you want," I add, only half joking.

She gives me a hug. "Maybe a high society lady like you should have staff. Maybe Kate is onto something. Do you at least have a good security system?"

"Um… our garage has a code."

She shakes her head indulgently. "If I were my brother, I can just feel the lecture on safety I'd be giving you." Yes, I had quite a few of those… "But seriously, you're sort of a public figure now. Or at least connected to one. It's something to think about."

"I'll think about it," I agree. "See you around the coffee shop?"

"Almost guaranteed."

I smile. I really think I've made a friend.

The muted, very early morning light is somehow a balm to my troubles. I've never really been a morning person, but at this hour, I appreciate the solitude. It seems more appropriate to be by yourself when a good part of the world is still sleeping. Maybe I've just been doing my best to adapt.

I walk in from the garage, ready for some coffee and breakfast after a 5 am barre class. I'm startled by the presence already in the kitchen. "Cam. Jeez. You scared me."

He laughs. "How? I live here too, you know."

I forget sometimes. I suppress at a sigh at the bitter tone my thoughts have taken. Look, he's here now! That's something. "I thought you'd be gone by now." Though he is already in his work clothes, which tells me this little rendezvous of ours is going to be short-lived.

"I just wanted to see what your plans for the day are."

I'm trying not to be suspicious as I scoop coffee grounds into the French press. "I was planning to go to the library and do some research."

He sips his protein shake. "About what?"

"Things like building permits and… pastry chefs."

He cocks a brow at me. "Interesting."

"I assume I can guess what your plans are," I remark, fishing for why I might be seeing him right now.

"Do you have any upcoming plans with any of the Greys?"

And there it is. I can almost hear the record scratching. "No. Why?"

He shrugs innocently. "I just wondered."

"Don't play with me before I've had coffee, Cam. Why is this so important to you? I told you, I'm not friends with Christian, and I'm just getting to know Mia. You already know Kate, so I can only assume you're not talking about her. So, what is this about?"

"Just making connections, babe. It would be good to have them on our side." I don't look up as I'm stabbing a spoon into yogurt and granola. "I also wanted to see how you feel like things have been going since we talked."

Now I do look up. "Talked when?"

"About us."

Oh. "I don't know… we talk more, but it's so surface-level, and not much has changed with your work-life balance. And I just don't really understand it, to be honest. It never used to be like this."

He looks momentarily saddened, like he's just seeing for the first time how this has affected me. "I don't want it to be like this forever, Ana. I'm just trying to secure the future of this company. I guess I've just been so single-minded about that. Maybe we can take a vacation sometime? Check out Lake Como for the wedding?"

Oh, this again. "I think we also need to talk about where Lake Como came from. I don't think it's fair that I learned about it for the first time over dinner with some people we don't know that well. I've been trying to get you to talk about wedding plans with me, what made you think I'd want that kind of surprise?"

He looks confused. "Who doesn't want to get married in Italy?"

"I have nothing against Italy. I just don't know when we became the couple that can't communicate." Is the city of Seattle some kind of harbinger of doom for my relationships?

He checks his watch. "I really have to get going, babe. Another time?"

Just when it starts to get productive. "Sure." I return my attention to my food, though my appetite is waning now.

"Ana?" I look up at the insistence in his tone. His gaze is intense, like he's feeling lost. "You know I love you, right?"

My chest aches. He's said it here and there, of course, but always in what felt like a routine way. Maybe he can finally tell that in all of this change, in all of this time apart, something between us is dying. I hope it can become a rebirth, but sometimes, I really don't know. "I love you."

He relaxes at my reply, and comes around the island to kiss me. "I'll see you later."

I watch him go, as I'm used to doing. It's true, I love him. Things like that don't just go away. Our relationship has shifted, but… I love him, the real him.

But is it enough?

A/N: I'm sorry for my brief absence! Still been building furniture and trying to get my life organized. I will do my best to update at least once in a week going forward, and hopefully sometimes more than that.

PS all of the recipes Mia made are from Wishbone Kitchen. Her instagram makes me desperately wish I could afford a private chef lol.