LITMIR.BIZ

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you’re asking.’

      It wasn’t and we both knew it, so I rushed on. ‘Everything’s going well. Customers still streaming in. Pastries sold out by the end of the day. Accounts balancing. Stocks replenished. Staff happy.’

      Some happier than others, though Remy didn’t need to know how I put a smile on Abby’s face.

      ‘You’re shagging Abby,’ Remy said, disappointment lacing every word as he shook his head. ‘Man, I told you to keep your hands off her.’

      ‘Since when have I ever listened to you?’

      ‘You used to, once upon a time.’ Remy eyeballed me, making me feel guiltier than I already did. ‘You should try it again.’

      I remembered the many times I’d listened to Remy, when he’d talked me down after yet another run-in with Dad, even if he hadn’t known the reason behind my funk. When he’d persuaded me to stay rather than run away the time he’d found me hiding out in the back shed the week after Mum died. When he’d calmed me with words of wisdom on the day of Dad’s funeral, painting a rosy future for us since he was over eighteen and could access the trust fund thoughtfully set up by Mum.

      If it hadn’t been for that money, and for Remy’s calming influence, who knew where I might’ve ended up?

      I owed him the truth. At least about Abby.

      ‘I know I shouldn’t have messed around with Abby. I’m not a complete doofus—’

      ‘Could’ve fooled me.’

      ‘But we both know where we stand so she won’t get hurt.’

      ‘You’re a dickhead.’ Remy snorted, his eyes narrowed in disapproval. ‘You didn’t see her the day she stumbled into Le Miel, disoriented and lost and sad. She hasn’t told me much but her ex-husband must be a first-class bastard to do a number on a sweet girl like that and she’s steered clear of men ever since.’

      Remy jabbed a finger at me, a deep frown slashing his brows. ‘So if she’s let you anywhere near her, it means a hell of a lot more to her than it does to you. And you’re going to fuck it up, just like you always do.’

      A chill swept over me. Remy was my go-to guy. He always had my back. So what did he mean?

      ‘Care to elaborate, bro?’ My frigid tone did little to ease the sudden tension between us.

      ‘You’ve never had a meaningful relationship with a woman. Whenever one of them gets close, you end it. That’s what I meant.’ Remy pressed his forehead, like he had a blinder of a headache building. ‘Abby is different and if you hurt her because you couldn’t keep it in your pants, I’m going to personally deck you.’

      ‘Like to see you try,’ I said, sounding meeker and suitably chastised.

      Remy had never hit anyone in his life. I, on the other hand, had dealt out justice with my fists at high school on a regular basis. Bottled-up rage and a lousy self-esteem didn’t mix, not when kids discovered which buttons to push to get me to explode.

      ‘Not that I want to encourage this but, for what it’s worth, when you walked in here you looked about a decade younger.’ Remy stared at me, studying me with a slight tilt of his head. ‘There’s something different about you. You look less...stressed, or something.’

      ‘Maybe working in a pastry shop rather than a club is good for me?’

      He chuckled at my glib response. ‘We both know that’s not true.’

      ‘Yeah, I know.’ I reluctantly admitted, wanting to get the lowdown on Abby from Remy but knowing he’d be onto me if I pried too deeply. ‘Abby’s special.’

      Remy’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Special to you?’

      ‘I meant in general.’ My clarification sounded lame and I continued. ‘Hanging out with her makes me happy in a way I haven’t been for a while.’

      Remy’s gaze turned speculative. ‘You’re sticking around for a few months, yeah?’

      I nodded, trying not to acknowledge the leap of hope that the thought elicited. I’d already pondered the possibility of exploring more with Abby beyond our specified short-term fling, but she hadn’t given any indication to wanting more and I sure as hell wouldn’t stick my neck out.

      I’d suffered enough rejection to last a lifetime.

      ‘So you and Abby might be more than a passing fad?’

      ‘Abby and I will sort out our own business, thanks very much.’ I grinned at Remy’s faux hurt. ‘As for you, you old busybody, get better fast.’

      Remy smiled but sadness lurked in his eyes, like he couldn’t quite believe my flippant act.

      ‘Both you and Abby mean a lot to me. Don’t screw this up, okay?’

      ‘I’ll do my best not to.’ I saluted. ‘Anything else, captain?’

      Remy hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, before he shook his head. ‘Abby’s important to me, professionally and personally, so take care of her.’

      Sombreness was catchy as I nodded. ‘I will.’

      A promise I had every intention of keeping, if she let me.

       CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      Abby

      I DIDN’T HAVE time to wonder if Tanner had enjoyed the breakfast I’d left him or be grateful when he’d snuck out around six. Because at one minute past nine Makayla checked Le Miel’s website and discovered we had a massive order for a ladies’ function at Bondi. The kind of order that would send Remy into a tizz because of the possibility of repeat business. The kind of order to garner a week’s profits in a day.

      ‘How can we possibly do this?’ Makayla printed out the order, her brow furrowed. ‘It usually takes you and Remy working like maniacs to fulfil an order like this. Even then, it’s touch and go.’

      I should say no. It was lunacy even contemplating trying to fill this order. Besides, my first instinct to say yes sent a shiver of fear through me. I’d determinedly set aside my people-pleasing personality a year ago, had worked damn hard to ensure I learned to say no.

      Then I glanced at the computer, saw Remy’s face in the corner of our website’s home page, and my fear faded.

      Agreeing to tackle a big challenge for the man who’d given me a break when I needed it most wasn’t being servile. It was a way of helping out a friend who’d helped me, a way of giving back. I owed Remy and I knew without a doubt he’d rather I tackled this massive job than wimp out.

      ‘What time do they need it by?’

      Makayla stared at me like I’d lost my mind even contemplating this. ‘Delivery at two thirty for afternoon tea at three.’

      ‘Shit,’ I muttered, scanning the list and mentally prioritising. ‘We can supply the mini-croissants from the lot I baked this morning and put the “Sold Out” sign out front. Then I can make the strawberry tarts, the apple turnovers, the pains au chocolat and the beignets—’

      ‘You’re crazy. You’ll never get all that done.’ Makayla gnawed at her bottom lip and rustled the paper at me. ‘Seriously. We’re going to have to outsource—’

      ‘Remy never does that. He hates putting his name to products he didn’t make.’

      ‘I know, but what can we do? We’re screwed.’

      I heard a footfall behind me. ‘What’s the problem, ladies?’

      My heart leapt in recognition, and something akin to happiness, as I turned to Tanner. ‘A massive order just came in. Big profits. And I can’t do it without Remy.’

      He

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