when could he ever refuse her anything?
She was the one and only woman on the planet who he had promised to take care of for as long as she needed him.
And he kept his promises. Even if that meant turning up to a small high-street bakery on a weekday morning.
‘Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,’ Lottie called out. ‘That was simply amazing. Disco dancing and sporting stars of the future. No doubt about it. And don’t forget, the Yummy Mummy club meets at the same time next week. So if you are ready to say the word about the one thing we all love best in the whole world...wait for it, Helena, and please stop doing that, Adam...three...two...one. Let’s have a great big...cake!’
Rob winced and half closed one eye as the wannabe dance troupe screamed out the word and then they all burst into a barrage of yelling and screaming and calling and jumping up and down.
All he could do was stand to one side as the actually very yummy mummies wrestled their little darlings into submission and baby buggies and in some cases reins and shuffled past him towards the entrance and the busy London street outside on the pavement.
Holding the door open for them seemed like a good idea. The first time.
Except that the second each lovely mummy spotted him smiling politely at them the forward movement onto the pavement slowed down to the point where a very rowdy and disorderly queue had formed in the cake shop.
‘Hello, handsome. Has anyone ever told you that you look a bit like that horrible rude chef that shouts a lot on the telly?’ The second girl shrugged. ‘Only not as good-looking. Sort off.’ Then she covered her hand with her mouth and laughed before shuffling off.
‘I get that a lot. No problem,’ Rob called after her with a quick wave before helping a very attractive brunette with her buggy. His reward was a beaming smile and a small business card popped into his shirt pocket with a cheeky wink while the little girl in the buggy amused herself by painting the jam from her donut onto the leg of his trousers.
Charming.
Five minutes later he had to physically unwrap the fingers of one charming cherub from his jacket and slide backwards into the cake shop. In an instant he closed the door tight behind him, his back flat against the glass, and exhaled slowly.
‘It must be nice to be so popular.’ A familiar female voice chuckled and Rob opened his eyes to see Lottie staring at him from behind the counter. ‘Are you available next Thursday morning? I’m thinking of doing Zumba for the under-fives. You would be a great hit for the lovely mums.’
‘Sorry. Previous booking. And please tell me that it’s not always like that.’
‘Oh, no,’ Lottie tutted. ‘Sometimes it can be quite rowdy.’ Then she smiled. ‘But brilliant fun for the kids. They have the best time and the mums have a chance to meet their pals. I love it.’ Then she pressed her lips together. ‘Do you drink tea?’
‘Don’t tell Dee but I would love a coffee,’ Rob replied and stepped forwards to the counter.
Lottie pushed her lips out. ‘Let me guess. Double-shot Americano. The breakfast of champions.’
Just for one split second Rob thought about calling her bluff but just the thought of that coffee was making his mouth water.
‘Damn. I hate to be predictable. Hit me.’
‘With pleasure,’ she whispered and then shook her head, rolled her eyes skywards and turned back to face him with a small shoulder shrug. ‘House rule. If you are a guest you have to eat something baked on the premises with your beverage. The donuts lasted thirty seconds but I have grown-up cakes galore.’
Then she turned away and continued talking but he couldn’t hear a word above the hiss and explosive steam from the coffee machine.
‘Sorry, I didn’t catch that,’ Rob said and strolled casually around the counter and stepped up to Lottie as she tapped out the coffee grounds.
In front of him was a kitchen about the same size as the one in his London penthouse apartment, except this kitchen was jam-packed with stainless-steel appliances and what looked like two commercial-size ovens. The air was filled with the most delicious aroma of baked goods. Spices and vanilla combined with the unique tang of caramel and buttery pastry and fresh-baked bread. Rob took a moment to appreciate the aroma.
‘What do you think you are doing?’ she muttered between clenched teeth and whirled around and pressed both hands flat against his chest and pushed hard.
‘Nobody—and I mean nobody—comes into my kitchen without asking me first. Do you let strangers just walk into your kitchen? No. I didn’t think so. Step back. All the way. And stay there. Thank you, that’s better. Take a seat and I’ll be right with you.’
Then she exhaled slowly and stepped back to the coffee machine, mumbling under her breath as she went.
‘Apologies,’ Rob said and raised both hands in the air. ‘My fault entirely. I am so used to walking into other people’s kitchens I forgot my manners.’
‘Um, well, I hope that you remember at the fundraiser,’ Lottie replied and stabbed the coffee spoon in his direction. ‘The whole idea is to raise funds for scholarships to the catering college. Not scare the VIPs away.’
‘Hey. I can play nice when the occasion demands,’ Rob replied and hit her with his sweetest smile.
‘That’s good to know.’ Lottie sighed as she strolled towards his table carrying a tray with two steaming cups of coffee that smelt so good his mouth was practically watering before he sat down.
She took a breath, put the tray onto the table, and then shuffled onto the chair facing him.
Watching him take that long, deep sip of piping-hot black coffee. Just the way he liked it. Perfect.
‘Great coffee. And thank you again for helping my mother out last night. It was very generous of you,’ Rob added with a slight bow of the head. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘No problem. Adele has been no trouble at all.’
Ah. Adele had been no trouble? So why did she think he would be?
With a low growl Rob put down the coffee and folded his arms and sat back in his chair so that he could face Lottie. ‘You don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you? Help me to understand.’
She blinked a couple of times and swallowed a long sip of coffee before her gaze flicked up into Rob’s face and their eyes met. ‘You were right, last night in the gallery. We have met before. About three years ago I was one of the catering students who had won a place in the Beresford hotel kitchens right here in London. You were entertaining guests one night and came in to see us after the meal and...you fired me. Gave me the sack. Threw me to the wolves. Let me go.’
Lottie clasped her hands so tightly around the coffee cup that Rob could see the whites of her knuckles and there was just enough of a tremble in her voice to make the hairs on the back of his neck prickle to attention. ‘Remember the pastry chef? Debra? The one who could barely stand up that night, never mind create something amazing? Debra was the one who had made the desserts. But I was the one who got the blame and the sack instead of her.’
