After I post the video on TikTok, I don't bother signing back in. The idea of seeing the comment section filled with pity comments somehow makes it worse, and I can't stand it. It's bad enough that my family and friends are all walking on eggshells around me. Sure, I'm not invisible anymore. But I almost think I'd rather be invisible that have everyone look at me with sadness in their eyes. It makes me feel like I've disappointed them.

All I want is to get back to life before the letter. Everything was so much simpler. Which is why I'm looking forward to going back to work at the restaurant. I haven't worked since right before the incident, and now that my concussion has gone away, I'm excited to get back in the kitchen. But when I walk in and see Vale standing at the stove, my heartbeat somehow both stops and triples at the same time.

I freeze in the doorway as I stare at him for a few seconds without him knowing I'm here. How is it possible for him to have pasta sauce all over his clothes before we've even started for the day? It's so adorable that I find a smile pulling at the corners of my lips as I watch him. He's so handsome as he looks down into the pot of marina sauce he's stirring, his brow furrowed in thought. I miss him so much, and I want to talk to him more than anything. But we haven't been alone since that day in the hospital, and I'm certainly not about to have this conversation in the middle of work. Not the best idea. But as I stare at him, I realize one thing: I'm lost to him. There's no hope in bringing me back because I don't want to come back. I want to stay lost forever.

He must feel my eyes on him, because he finally turns around and sees me standing in the doorway. An awkward smile pulls at his lips as he drops the stirring spoon in the sauce and says, "Oh, hey, Gen. I... didn't know you were working tonight."

I nod my head slowly. "Yeah. My first night back. I thought Victor would've said something to you about it."

Vale sighs and shakes his head. "No. You know him." But why would Victor tell Vale I'd be back? Why would it matter? It's never mattered before. Usually we enjoy working together. But we both know it's different now. Everything has changed between us, and I don't know which way to go. All I know is that I'd give the world to have him kiss me again.

"Is... I mean...," I hesitate for a second, not knowing how to say what I'm thinking. "Are you okay with me being here? Because I can tell Victor that I'm not ready yet, and he'll call someone else."

"No!" Vale says quickly, and I jump, startled by his reaction. He closes his eyes, trying to recover himself. Then he gives me a soft smile and says, "I mean... no. It's okay. I want you here."

A blush rises in my cheeks. If joy was a drug, then I've just taken my first hit of it since before the incident. And damn, it feels amazing. I think I'd almost forgotten what it felt like. But hearing him say he wants me is reminding me what it's like to be happy. But it's fleeting as I realize he probably just doesn't want to work the dinner shift by himself. Vale isn't exactly a fan of working in the restaurant, so working by himself during the dinner rush is basically hell for him. That's probably what he meant.

"Okay then," I say as I suck in a breath of air and give him a hesitant smile of my own. "I guess I'll... um... get started rolling the pasta dough?"

He nods his head, and then he watches as I go to the refrigerator and pull out some pasta dough before I slap it on the counter and get to work. He turns around and gets back to his pasta, swearing softly as he realizes he's dropped the spoon in the sauce and now has to recover it. We work in silence for a long time, but it's comfortable. I feel so warm as my fingers knead the dough. Vale is like the sun, and just being around him sets my own heart aglow. He's always been like that. I've just never noticed it before this summer.

A couple hours later, we start receiving orders, and everything goes from calm and quiet to slightly chaotic as Vale and I dance around each other, cooking meat, pasta, veggies, and whatever else the patrons are requesting. It's like the millionth time we've done this, but it's the first time it's felt so intimate. Whenever I brush past him, it feels like I'm zapped with a thousand bolts of electricity. And I know he feels it too, because he keeps looking at me with those eyes again. Dazed. Confused. Wanting. Yes, Vale. Same. We definitely need to talk this out.

Two hours into the dinner rush, and I'm about to jump his damn bones. We're staring at each other with such heat and desire, and I feel like my heart is in my throat. And just as I'm about to rip my clothes off and let him take me right here on the dirty kitchen floor, Victor barges into the kitchen. Vale and I jump apart, and I didn't realize how close we actually were until we have to separate. I'm expecting Victor to notice and say something, but one look at his face tells me something has happened in the dining room.

"Gen," he says breathlessly as I try to steady my own beating heart. "Gen, come out here quick! You won't believe who just requested you!"

My brow furrows as I shrug my shoulders. "Who?"

Victor beams at me as he says, "Julie Graham!"

I have no idea who he's talking about, but apparently it's exciting, because Vale's jaw drops as he says, "No fucking way. You're not serious."

Victor nods his head. "I'm VERY serious! She came in a few minutes ago, and immediately requested to meet with Genevieve Cross."

I'm still lost. "Who's Julie Graham?" I ask, and both Vale and Victor look at me like I've lost my mind.

"Gen," Vale says slowly, as if he's talking to a small child. "Julie Graham. The famous pastry chef Julie Graham? The woman you're obsessed with?"

All the blood that was in my face from my heated moment with Vale a few minutes ago completely drains. My eyes turn to the size of quarters as I turn my head to Victor. "You're kidding." He shakes his head as he continues to smile at me. Immediately, my body starts to quake. "Oh my God. And she asked for me? Why?"

Victor shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know, Gen, but she definitely asked for Genevieve Cross."

Vale gives me a gentle nudge as I just stand there, frozen in place. "Gen, go see what she wants. Get out there."

I nod my head, but I don't move. "I... I can't. I'm... I'm covered in pasta sauce, and I'm pretty sure there's flour in my hair. I can't go out there and meet Julie Graham looking like... like this."

"You can, and you will," Victor says, and then he grabs my arm and begins to pull me out of the kitchen. "This is your dream, Gen. You've always talked about meeting Julie Graham."

I shake my head. "Yeah, but I always imagined it would be at a red carpet event or something. Not looking like I just stepped out of a pool made of spaghetti."

"You look beautiful, Gen," Vale says, and I feel some of the ice in me begin to melt. "Besides, none of that matters. This is an opportunity. A huge opportunity. You can't let this one go by."

I close my eyes for a second, thinking of all the opportunities I've had this summer, and how many of them I've let slip through my fingers. And I realize Vale is right. It doesn't matter how I look. If I don't go out there and talk with her, I will never, ever forgive myself. And the chances of ever having this opportunity again are very, very slim. I can't keep letting these chances slip by. So I take in a breath of air, nod my head, and follow Victor as we march out of the kitchen together.

My eyes spot her immediately, which is weird. It's not like she's wearing anything different than any of the other patrons. There's nothing about her that would make her stand out. In fact, she looks a lot less dazzling in person. But still, there's something about her. Her lips are quirked up in small grin as she peruses the menu, and I wonder what the hell she's doing in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. And in Victor's small Italian restaurant at that.

When I get to her table, I'm immediately self-conscious. I wipe my hands on my apron, wishing I would've thought to wash them before coming out here. Then I gulp and say, "H-Hello, Ms. Graham. I'm G-Genevieve Cross. You... you wanted to s-see me?"

Julie Graham sets her menu down on the table and gives me a small onceover before she smiles and gets to her feet, holding out her hand for me to shake. "Hello, Genevieve. It's so wonderful to meet you. I've heard so much about you from my husband."

I nod my head like I know what she's talking about. "Your... your husband knows my name?" I'm dreaming. This is a dream. In fact, I don't think I've come to work yet. I think every part of tonight has been a dream, and I'm going to wake up soon and be just as depressed as I was when I went to sleep.

Julie Graham nods her head. "Yes, he does. He told me all about your audition for the Boston School of Pastry Arts." My eyes widen, and I try to think of when I could've met Julie Graham's husband and not realized it. And how he could be connected to the school of my dreams. "He told me about your amazing Baked Alaska. In fact, he said you used my tutorial to learn how to make it."

My mouth couldn't be drier if I inhaled a handful of sand. I nod my head slowly. "Um... yeah. I... yes. I did. Um." I take a breath, because holy shit, I am talking to Julie Graham. "I'm so sorry. I... I promise I'm not usually this... flustered. I'm just... I guess I'm a bit... star struck."

She throws her head back and laughs, and I nervously laugh with her. Which makes me feel like an idiot, because nothing I said was funny. "Honey, it's okay. You don't have to be nervous. I actually came here tonight to see you."

Yeah, okay. And I don't have to be nervous. I try to swallow some of the dryness away, but it doesn't work. "W-Why did you come out here to... to see me?" I ask, because I don't believe it's real.

She smiles. "Well, I guess I heard so much about the Baked Alaska this summer. My husband has been making me so jealous. And he said you love to bake cupcakes?"

I nod my head as I try again to think of who her husband is. And then I think back to the letter I received via email at the beginning of the summer. It was signed Jeremy Graham, Dean of Students. Her husband is Jeremy Graham! And he was one of the judges at my audition! My blood quickens in my veins. "Yes. I love to bake cupcakes. I... I bake cupcakes all the time."

Julie Graham nods her head, and I cannot believe she's here. "Well, I've had my Baked Alaska many times, but I've never had a Genevieve Cross cinnamon cupcake. Which is why I'm here. I know it's short notice, and I know it's not on the menu. But I was hoping you could make me one of your famous cupcakes?"

This isn't happening. This isn't happening. This is not happening. "Um. Sure?" I say hesitantly, and she beams at me. "B-But... that can take a while. Usually, it takes me a while to make the batter, bake them, and cool them off enough to frost them. I don't want to take up too much of your time."

But she shakes her head. "It's okay, sweetie. I'm actually waiting for my husband. He'll be here shortly. We'll order dinner, and then, if the owner of the restaurant is okay, we'll wait for your cupcakes?"

I jump about a foot in the air as Victor says from behind me, "Of course, Ms. Graham. You are more than welcome to stay here for as long as you like."

Oh. My. God. My legs start shaking as I realize what's happening. I was just asked to make my famous cinnamon cupcakes for Julie Graham. I don't even know if I have the ingredients in the back. I don't know anything. Right now, I don't even think I know my own name. The only thing I know is Julie Graham just requested my cupcakes. And I have no idea what to say. Except....

"Of course, I'll make you cupcakes, Ms. Graham."

Author's Note:

Guess Gen is making cupcakes in the next chapter. What do you all think of Julie Graham? Why do you think she's really at the restaurant?

This chapter was fun to write, and it's literally been in the works since the beginning. That's where I'm at right now. I'm writing scenes I've been picturing in my head since I started outlining almost two years ago. Back when this story was called On the Line. And then The Trading Game. And then Besties, Barters, and Buttercream. It had so many titles before it was A Touch of Cinnamon. But it's always been a blast to write, and I hope you're all enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it.

Only a few chapters left now, and I have a feeling it's going to happen quickly. So fasten your seatbelts, my dears! Let's finish this one! Be back very soon with the next chapter!
XOXO,
~Aly