A Sweet Mess Page 3

  “You’re merely witnessing the aftereffects of what earth-shattering, bone-liquefying sex does to a woman.” Aubrey wiggled her eyebrows, unable to resist messing with Tara.

  “Yowza.” Tara’s jaw dropped. “Details, Please?”

  “Drop it, you perv,” Aubrey said, even though she’d brought it up first. “I don’t kiss and tell. At least not in detail.”

  “Hello, ladies.” One of her regulars stood grinning at them, a few steps from the counter.

  “Hi, Joe.” Aubrey smiled through gritted teeth, willing herself not to die from embarrassment. How long has he been standing there? “What can I get for you, hon?”

  As Aubrey busied herself preparing his order and ignoring Tara’s anime leer, Comfort Zone filled with the sound of its morning crowd. When she finished plating the red velvet waffle and pineapple muffin, she held them out to her friend, jutting her chin toward the tables.

  “Could you take these over to Joe?”

  “What? I worked my tail off at the brewery last night, and you want free labor from me?” While her mouth grumbled, her hands grabbed the plates. “I’ll let you take advantage of my kindness and cease the interrogation due to my benevolence. But at least tell me his name. Otherwise, I’ll have to refer to him as Mr. Hot-Piece-of-A—”

  “Landon.” Aubrey blurted louder than she’d intended. She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “His name’s Landon.”

  Several things happened at once. Tara’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, but no sound came from her gaping mouth. Silence saturated the air and she stood as though time had stopped. At last, Tara came back to life and gingerly placed the plates on the counter. Her mouth opened and closed, but still, no words came out. That was alarming. Nothing rendered her friend speechless. Nothing.

  “Okay. Now you’re scaring me,” Aubrey said, nerves knotting her stomach. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “Landon? Oh, my God. I thought I recognized him from somewhere when I was giving him my death glare at the bar, but I couldn’t place him. He looked so different in jeans and a T-shirt with his hair all tousled. By the way, he should always wear his hair all tousled. It’s a good look for him.”

  “Focus, Tara. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Your handsome stranger? He’s the Landon Kim. The celebrity food critic and blogger.”

  “Oh … What?” The air whooshed out of her lungs. Were we seen together? “A celebrity food critic? You know him?”

  “I know of him. You’re the one who knows him. Intimately.” Tara winked and playfully pushed Aubrey’s shoulder. “It really isn’t a big deal. It’s not like you’re going to run into him again. I just got overexcited by our encounter with a star because I’m a total dork.”

  “You’re not a total dork.” She grinned, shaking off the weirdness of it all.

  Visibility was a sensitive point for her. She’d run away from home when she was eighteen and had kept her whereabouts a secret from the people she’d left behind. She’d stayed in touch with her mom with their biannual phone calls and birthday cards, but Aubrey wanted nothing to do with her father. Having him find out about a one-night stand with a celebrity would be a humiliation she hoped to avoid.

  “Wait.” Tara sounded panicked again. “Landon Kim came to the brewery. What if he was there to review it? Did he order any of our small dishes? What if he hated everything?”

  “Hush, babe.” It was her turn to reassure her friend. “He told me he ended up in Weldon because of a blown tire. I think he was on his way to some other restaurant, so he couldn’t have been here to review Weldon Brewery.”

  “But still. Let’s do a quick recon.” Tara dug out her phone and thumb-typed a search with blinding speed as Aubrey peeked over her shoulder. “Oh, look. He was named one of this year’s most eligible bachelors. He’s so hot and successful. He totally deserves it.” After a peek at Aubrey’s incredulous face, Tara swallowed the rest of her fangirling. “But we don’t care about that. Okay, here’s a good blurb. ‘Food critic Landon Kim is renowned for his sharp, droll observations and sometimes brutal reviews. But his opinions are accurate, fair, and highly regarded in the food community.’ More of the same. The same…”

  “Put your phone away. He was an accidental tourist passing through Weldon. That’s all. Let’s move on as though he were never here.”

  * * *

  Landon lifted his foot off the gas when he realized he was pushing one hundred. He raked his fingers through his hair and growled in frustration. He didn’t know what he was expecting in the morning, but it wasn’t to find her gone. His first instinct had been to feel used and discarded. Then his conscience butted in. He’d left many lovers’ sides in the middle of the night. If this was how he’d made them feel, then this might be his comeuppance. A humorless laugh filled his car.

  Aubrey didn’t owe him anything. The unspoken decision to keep it a onetime deal had been mutual. They hadn’t even exchanged numbers. But he’d changed his mind as the night wore on. He fell asleep with her warm, smooth body pressed against him, looking forward to making love with her in the morning. He hadn’t thought much beyond that except for wanting to see her again. She, on the other hand, did not have a change of heart. Rather than walking the streets of Weldon and shouting her name into the sky, he’d decided to respect her wishes and leave as soon as his car tire was replaced.

  Lost in his musings, he almost missed the exit to his office in Santa Monica. He signaled right and pulled into the exit lane, and several cars leaned on their horns. It was a relatively tame lane change with sufficient cushion, but West Los Angeles drivers weren’t the most patient lot. They blared their horns if someone sneezed wrong. He shouldn’t judge, though. Who wouldn’t be irritable with a diet consisting entirely of kombucha and green juice?

  Landon parked the car in the space reserved for the editor of California Coast Monthly, and rode the elevator up to the twelfth floor. He nodded his greetings to the receptionist and walked into Craig Blake’s office.

  “Heads up.” He tossed the car key to his editor, who barely looked up in time to catch it. “And thanks for nothing.”

  “Hey, my car is perfectly maintained.” Craig motioned for him to close the door and stood from his chair to lean against the edge of his desk. Landon had called to give him an update on his detour when he’d checked in at Lola’s. “You must’ve run over some broken glass or something.”

  “Either way, it was a waste of time, and I don’t have a real review for you this week.”

  On his drive back, Landon had decided not to rain down his wrath on Comfort Zone. It was a small operation, and his review would be incomplete without having tasted other items from the main menu. Then again, even if the other items were good, serving that cake deserved some tough criticism. The memory of the pastry chef’s arrogance still rankled him, but he could let it go.

  “Unfortunately, I need a review from you before you leave for Hanoi.”

  “You mean in less than two hours,” Landon said incredulously.

  “Yes.” Craig scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “I agreed to print Gary’s exposé on a truffle oil conspiracy during our Christmas party last year.”

  “Gary from marketing? Did you get shit-faced?”

  “Of course I did. Why would I stay sober with free top-shelf liquor flowing? Anyway, I told him I really liked him and it’s not because I was drunk.” He paused to grin when Landon slapped his knee and guffawed. “Then we sobbed in each other’s arms about the USC football team’s decade-long struggle. My lovely wife captured the moment on her phone and pulls it up whenever she needs a good laugh.”

  “That’s fucking priceless. But truffle oil? Is California Coast Monthly moving toward satire?” Landon covered a yawn with his fist. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Remembering the reason for his lack thereof both turned him on and pissed him off. “Besides, what does all that have to do with my review? I told you I don’t have one, and there isn’t tim
e to visit another restaurant.”

  “You know very well there’s no way in hell I’m printing an exposé on truffle oil,” he said. “Wipe that cocky smirk off your face. Gary’s a decent guy, just misguided. His article is well written, and all his references check out, but his conclusions rival the aluminum-foil-helmet-wearing sort. I ran out of excuses, and I have an issue going to print. I’ve already bribed an anonymous designer in Layout to be ready for the switch, so you just need to fill Gary’s spot. I don’t care if you review the downstairs cafeteria. Just get it done in two hours.”

  “Screw you, Craig.”

  “I love you, too, man. Looking forward to your piece.”

  Craig was his friend, and Landon didn’t want to hang him out to dry. Besides, Landon was in an abysmal mood. Venting about the gummy worm that almost killed him might be cathartic. It would be an allegorical piece reflecting on his trip to Weldon entitled “The Pitfalls of Brilliance.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to do all the fact-checking and background research,” he said. “I’m not missing my flight for your bromance gone wrong.”

  * * *

  His head was floating a few inches above his neck, and only three of his four limbs seemed fully awake. But Landon embraced his jet lag like a light hangover, an inevitable part of his lifestyle. Gulping a sip of his venti coffee, Landon rolled into Cal Coast’s parking structure in his new ride. He’d had his assistant pick up the Alfa Romeo Giulia and park it in his garage for when he returned from Asia.

  He traveled eight out of twelve months for his job. It made no sense to invest in a car only to have it sit in the garage for a better part of the year. His condo was largely unfurnished for the same reason. “Home” was just a forgettable rest stop before he was on the go again.

  Landon had chosen his profession because of the ever-changing landscape and the freedom it offered. When he’d given up his dream of becoming a chef, the nomadic lifestyle had lured him like the call of never-never land. He’d led an itinerant life for more than a decade, and it had never bothered him before. But this last trip had been different.

  He’d gone through the motions of visiting eclectic villages, towns, and cities with their scenic beauty. He’d had the privilege of sampling unique, mouthwatering food at local institutions, as well as new, innovative restaurants, but none of it had moved him. None of it had been fun.

  Had he spent all his wanderlust? Landon swiped his hands down his face. He had no idea, but nothing felt right anymore. He’d been on edge during the entire trip, and the only thing that had settled him was impulse-buying a car online.

  Landon entered the building lobby, appreciating its welcome familiarity, and hopped on the elevator with a light step. Flying home this time had meant something different. He came home because he’d missed it, and it felt good to be back. Walking into the office and sitting at his desk gave him a quiet satisfaction. He turned his gaze out the window, letting his lips curve in a content smile.

  Craig threw a stack of email printouts on Landon’s desk, jolting him out of his reverie. “For your reading enjoyment.”

  “I got back from a monthlong assignment in Asia less than twelve hours ago. Can’t a man have some peace and quiet around here?”

  “And by around here, you mean your place of work?” His editor arched an eyebrow at him.

  “Precisely.” Landon grinned and picked up the first email. His smile disappeared, and he sat up in his seat. “What is this?”

  “It’s an email from the owner and baker of Comfort Zone, Aubrey Choi, requesting a second chance. She claims the cake you ate was a special order for a little girl’s birthday, but her part-time employee accidentally served it to you.”

  Aubrey. She had continued to invade his thoughts while he was abroad. She was bold, sweet, and bursting with life. The sex was amazing, but their conversations in between had been equally memorable. He’d been seriously considering returning to Weldon to find her, but Craig saved him from that potential disaster.

  Aubrey Choi, the owner of Comfort Zone, and his Aubrey, the goddess in bed, were one and the same. Panic filled his throat. Had she seduced him to get a positive review? It wasn’t the first time a restaurateur had tried to bribe him. He’d rejected every last one of those overtures, because what the literal hell? Those people had demagnetized moral compasses.

  He took a deep breath through his nose. As his initial shock receded, logic regained control of his mind. Aubrey never once mentioned Comfort Zone or her profession. She couldn’t have known he was the customer who’d eaten the peculiar cake. And he definitely hadn’t seen her at the bakery. As farfetched as it sounded, they had met by pure chance. A food critic and a baker. It was fucking serendipity.

  Even so, they’d slept together, and he couldn’t address the unfortunate cake mix-up without putting his reputation on the line. Landon never got involved with a subject of his review. He’d worked too hard and sacrificed too much to risk compromising his professional reputation. The opinion of a critic who could be bought—with money or sex—held no value. If he reviewed Comfort Zone again, his readers would know he’d broken his no-second-review rule, and that would draw unwanted attention to him and Aubrey, which would beg the question of why her and why now.

  “I put you on the spot to write that review, so I didn’t bother you with it, especially since these kinds of complaints usually die down after a while. But in this case, every sugar-loving citizen in Weldon must’ve emailed me. This is not going away quietly.” Pulling up the nearest chair, Craig dropped a stack of files to the floor and sat down in its place. “I know you don’t review the same restaurant twice even if the magazine’s policy allows it.”

  “You’re right.” Landon sighed, dragging his fingers through his hair. “I never review the same place twice.”

  “But Ms. Choi’s story is pretty compelling. With a six-year-old girl and a teenage part-timer to corroborate it? California Coast Monthly could become the Grinch who stole Weldon’s favorite baker.”

  “This isn’t the first time we’ve had restaurateurs beg for a retraction or a second chance. The magazine will have no reputation to save if it backpedals on every negative review.”

  “If you’re willing to take another trip to Weldon for a second review, I’ll write an editor’s note, explaining that it’s a onetime exception to the rule.”

  “That’s only going to create a slippery slope. We’ll be bombarded with complaints regarding the exception. You did it that time, why not us?”

  “You were reluctant to write the review in the first place. Why are you being so stubborn now?”

  “I have my reasons.” The last thing he needed was to embroil Cal Coast in a scandal because of his personal life.

  “Be reasonable, Landon. I looked into her story, and it checks out.”

  “I can’t.” He hated not being able to retract his review. Aubrey was an amazing woman, and she deserved better. He could only hope his review would fade from everyone’s mind soon so she could go on with her life.

  “This isn’t a request, Kim.” Iron laced Craig’s voice. He rarely pulled rank on him.

  “My answer is still no. It won’t do the magazine any good.” Landon arched his eyebrow and allowed a cocky grin to touch his lips. “Do you need my resignation?”

  “Asshole,” Craig said, dropping his boss voice. “You know you’re too damn good to lose.”

  “Just trust me on this.”

  “At least tell me why.”

  “No.” Landon wasn’t dragging his friend into his moral dilemma. His headbutting emotions were already more than he could handle.

  3

  Aubrey was losing hope along with her customers. At two o’clock, people should’ve been scrambling into Comfort Zone for their sugar fix. But with the drizzling rain outside, even the locals took their goodies to go, and only the strains of her favorite eighties’ music filled the empty bakery.

  She plopped into a cozy stuffed chair, exhausted from t
aking inventory of Comfort Zone’s new location before opening the shop in the morning. Ed’s Diner, a Weldon institution, served its last short stack six months ago. Aubrey was devastated when Ed decided to retire and hang up his apron, but he’d encouraged her to expand Comfort Zone and relocate to the diner. She was scared at first, but her excitement had grown until there had been no room for fear.

  The diner was clean and well maintained, and she could use most of the appliances included in the lease—like the stainless-steel countertop and sink, the stove top, the double-door fridge and freezers, and the dishwashers. But she still had to add a couple triple-stacked convection ovens, two stainless-steel worktables with casters, a dozen full-sheet bakery racks, and a load of commercial-size cooking tools to supplement her existing ones.

  The money she’d set aside for the new kitchen was enough to cover the appliances and part of the contractor and labor fees, but she had counted on the profit from the current store to help pay for the remaining expenses, as well as fund some light interior renovations for the storefront.

  With diminishing out-of-town customers and a nearly complete stall of her online sales, she might not have the funds to finish the renovations in the ninety-day tenant improvements period. Once she hit the ninety-day mark, she had to start paying rent, according to the contract, even if the shop wasn’t open. Except there was no money. She was going to lose her security deposit, and Comfort Zone would be finished.

  Spread thin and torn around the edges, Aubrey couldn’t stop herself from pulling out the tattered pages of California Coast Monthly from her apron pocket. It’s like pressing and prodding a burned spot on the roof of your mouth with your tongue. Worrying the spot made it hurt more, but she just couldn’t leave it alone.

  The Pitfalls of Brilliance By Landon Kim

  Traveling for work is never a vacation—that is, until you blow a tire on the freeway and live to tell your story.