A horrible thought crossed Sera’s mind. She advanced once more toward Blake, pin at the fore, until the tip stopped just short of his chest. “Don’t even think of pulling any of your bullshit out here, Blake. Badmouthing me and bullying the local business community to get me blackballed won’t get you anywhere. I have friends here. You don’t.”
“Don’t fool yourself. I have friends everywhere, Serafina.” Blake gave the lip twist that served him as a smile. “Better than that, I’ve people who owe me favors. Best not be threatening me, or you’ll find your third-rate tart shop going out of business before you can blink. A word to the media—my word as an internationally renowned chef—and you’ll be finished. In fact…” He trailed off, seeming to consider something. “What was the name of that local rag that passes for a weekly around here? Something awfully kitschy—ah yes, Chile Paper, was it? I really must be in touch with them. About my new restaurant, of course.”
Another über-smirk.
Sera’s blood boiled over. “Asher, I’ve changed my mind,” she growled. “Would you please bash the living shi—”
But Blake was gone.
Into the night like the creature of darkness he was.
Sera hustled to the front entrance—which Blake had left swinging open, naturally. She didn’t see him in the courtyard, but a streak of silver—of Silver, actually—caught her eye as Asher’s puppy came barreling toward them, his mama Sascha remaining more discreetly behind near the placita’s fountain. The pup, who was growing by the day, launched his gleeful, barky self at Sera, and she barely managed to catch him in her arms.
His tongue bathed the hot, angry tears from her eyes. Thank you, pooch, she thought fervently. I really don’t want your master to see me lose it over that sleazeoid. Rage, a sense of injustice, and adrenaline all coursed through her system, making her shake with reaction. And in their wake came a second round of doubts. Sure, she’d run her demon off—for now—but had she really slain him? Sera sank her trembling fingers into Silver’s coat and rubbed her cheek against the top of his head, breathing in his doggy smell. She felt Asher arrive at her side before she heard him.
“Bliss,” he said quietly. “What was all that about? Are you all right?”
She turned, pooch and all, to look up at him. My mascara is probably halfway to my chin, if Silver hasn’t licked it all off. Oh well, what he’d just seen in the kitchen was worse than a little Tammy Faye facial action.
“Yeah, I’m all right.” No, I’m not. “That was just a bit of my baggage, coming back to haunt me. Sorry it ruined our evening.” Silver whined and placed his paws on either shoulder, as if giving her a hug. He continued to lick her chin.
“That looked like more than just ‘baggage’ to me, Bliss,” Asher argued gently. “Who was that?”
She sniffed, staring out into the night. “That,” she said with a sigh, “was the man who convinced me I better quit drinking.”
She put the puppy down, where he happily began to do battle with Asher’s motorcycle boots. “I’m sorry, Ash. I think I’d better go home now. I’m exhausted, and I need to be up in a few hours to start baking again.” She glanced up at him, feeling tentative, shaken in the wake of tonight’s tumultuous events. Suddenly, being with Asher, being happy with Asher, seemed a lot less possible. Sure, I love him, but when he knows everything about my past, will he ever be able to love me? Blake had brought with him a bitter reminder of who she was—who she used to be—and it was a sobering feeling. She didn’t want to be that woman anymore. She hoped she’d changed enough to escape the old Sera. But whether Asher could handle the truth of who she’d been… well, that remained to be seen. “I… I think I need some time alone.”
Asher’s green eyes searched her face with concern. “You’ll be all right? Would you like me to drive you home?”
“I’ll be fine.” Sera laid her palm against his stubbly cheek, feeling a pang. “Thanks for having my back, Ash.”
“I’d like to have your front, too,” he teased, a twinkle in his green eyes.
That surprised a watery laugh out of Sera. She ran a hand down his coat front, tracing the buttons, loving him even more for trying to cheer her up at a time like this. “We’ll see about that one, handsome,” she said.
“Will we? I’d still like to take you out, Bliss.”
“That,” she sighed, “is the nicest news I’ve had all day.”
She left him after a kiss that went a long way toward soothing the upsets of the last hour.
Silver barked softly at the first flakes of snow that sifted down into the courtyard as Sera turned her back on her future, and went home to contemplate her past.
Chapter Twenty-Five
He did it. That snake really went ahead and did it!”
Pauline slammed the newspaper down on the counter as she swept into the store, fuming. Having been filled in by Sera when the snake in question first slithered into town, three nights ago now, she was well aware of Blake’s descent upon the otherwise delightful City Different, and she was about ready to blow a gasket. Or had been, before she saw the paper. Now, “supernova” might better describe her aunt’s combustible attitude, Sera thought.
“Did what?” she asked, gingerly unfolding the paper. It was about a half hour before opening, and she was just getting the shop ready for the influx of Thanksgiving Day customers who’d be wanting to pick up their orders before the store closed early for the holiday. Pauline, who had flatly refused to let Sera do any cooking, had left a turkey in the oven back home and had prepped all the makings for a delectable feast in advance. Hortencia was over at the house making sure pots didn’t boil over and getting the place prettied up for the occasion. Tomorrow, with customers in a food coma, Sera would have her first day off since Bliss had opened.
She also had a date, formally confirmed, to spend the evening with Asher.
For now, though, she still had four hours of retail chaos to get through. She’d thought herself well prepared for any eventuality. Boxes stood at the ready, ribbons all set to wrap them. Cookies, pies, and cakes sat proudly in their cases, waiting to be taken home to a lucky family for the holiday. Her advance orders alone ensured Bliss would be in the black for a spell. She ought to be rejoicing. But when Sera saw what her aunt, trembling with ire, pointed out with one stiff finger, she found herself in no mood for celebration.
It was another article by substitute food writer Marnie Pyle.
She scanned down the page. “Son of a bitch!”
It was ostensibly about Blake’s new venture, a swanky new Southwestern fusion affair with appetizers in the $40 range. Ostensibly… until she got to the part where he just “happened” to mention his former protégée. Sera read aloud, her voice rising with outrage.
“Yes, I’ve heard about that odd new pastry venture down the road. I knew its proprietor, Serafina Wilde, back in New York. She used to work for me, for a short while.”
“A short while! Try four of the longest years of my life,” she seethed.
“Look what else he said, that rat fink,” Pauline commanded. Her hands were knotted into gnarled fists atop the counter and her long, wiry hair fairly crackled with outrage.