Any Way You Slice It Read online

Chapter 2

  I was extra busy all day and manned the pie truck at some outdoor markets in the evening. The night was cool which made the pies were very popular. Around nine, I saw Aaron leaning against a tree, drinking a beer and watching me. I waved and got back to business.

  After a few minutes, the crowd thinned and he approached the truck.

  “Busy night?”

  “Sure is. Can I get you a pie?”

  “What’s the special?”

  “We do all sorts of gourmet ones, like curried chicken, or Mexican, or beef and mushroom, but I think you should start off with a traditional Aussie meat pie.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  I handed him a pie and advised him to load it with ketchup or, as we call it back home in Australia, tomato sauce.

  “I’m closing at nine-thirty. Not long to go. We’re almost sold out anyway.”

  He moved aside and I served a few more customers. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him savoring the deliciousness of the meat pie. He certainly looked like he was enjoying it, thank God. If he didn’t like my pies, the marriage was definitely off. It might be a business arrangement, but he needed to at least like my business for this to work.

  At nine twenty-five, I pulled down the shutter. Stan had agreed to do the clean-up and drive the truck back. That left me free to glam up for our date.

  I stuck my head out the back of the truck and called to Aaron. “Give me ten.”

  Have you ever gotten ready for a date in the back of a truck? Stan stepped out for a cigarette so I gave myself a wipe with some body towelettes. I layered on the deodorant and perfume and hook down my ponytail. I put on some very tight black pants, a backless silver top, and silver heels. I added a pair of hoop earrings, a denim jacket, and make-up. I don’t wear it often, but I applied powder, mascara, black eyeliner, and some gloss.

  “That’s the best I can do,” I said to myself as I grabbed my bag and headed out to meet Aaron.

  “Wow. You look…amazing,” he said as I emerged from the back of the pie truck.

  “No need to sound so shocked, you know.” Sure, to this point he’d only seen me in jeans and a sweatshirt as well as my work uniform of catering whites, but still, surely I had the potential to scrub up all right.

  “Sorry, it’s just that, well, you’re really beautiful.”

  I felt a blush rise up my face. “No worries and, thanks, I think. How was the pie?”

  “Amazing. She’s beautiful and she cooks; this could be a marriage made in heaven.”

  He put his hand in the small of my back and it met skin. His hand was warm and I got goose bumps all over. He lifted up the back of my jacket to determine what I had going on under there. I guess he was surprised that his hand sound flesh. “That is a very sexy top.”

  He returned his hand to the small of my back and guided me along towards the edge of the park.

  “Where’s the party?”

  He pointed up to the top of a tall apartment block. “Penthouse.”

  “So my people hang in the park and your people hang in the penthouse.”

  “Our people. They’re our people now, Piper.” He grinned at me.

  “Okay. And whose party is it?”

  “Remember that girl I said I was seeing?” His voice trailed away and a sheepish expression crept across his face.

  “Are you shitting me?” I asked.

  “I shit you not.” The sheepish expression was replaced by a grin.

  “Our first date is to your girlfriend’s place? Seriously?”

  “Well, I think it will make it obvious to her that I’m seeing someone else. Then when we get married my work people will already have met you and it will be less weird.”

  “But weirder for tonight, though.”

  “I guess so.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And in the interests of full disclosure, her husband is one of the partners and our host.”

  “Fantastic.” I sighed. I was already tired and a little bit anxious but these complications had my body prickling with sweat. “Okay, so can we stop? Can we take a moment to get our story straight here?”

  We agreed that we’d known each other a month. We met via Cherie. So far it was pretty casual. It was our third date.

  “You added that because of the third date rule.”

  “What third date rule?” He feigned ignorance.

  “You know the one that says you have to put out on the third date. You did that to make your girlfriend jealous, didn’t you?”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” he protested.

  “Not anymore she’s not.” I looped my arm through his in a show of possessiveness.

  Her name was Ophelia. Poor girl. What a terrible affliction for a kid to be named after a tragic Shakespearean character. Still, she was statuesque, blonde, and freckle-free. The antithesis to little old red-headed me.

  “Aaron.” Her face lit at the sight of him and extinguished at the sight of me. “I see you brought a date.”

  “Rick said I should. He said I needed to stop living like a monk.” The irony was lost on none of us. “This is Piper.”

  “Hi.” I offered my hand. She took it reluctantly never letting her eyes leave Aaron’s. Oh this was going to be a fun night. Not. I’m not really the sort of girl who enjoys woman to woman animosity.

  A distinguished looking gentleman with grey at the temples and a tan like he was fresh from the beach approached. “Darling, the caterer needs you. Oh Aaron, so glad you came. And who is this enchanting creature?” He was as transfixed by me as his wife was not.

  “I’m Piper.”

  He kissed the back of my hand. “Delighted.”

  We entered an apartment that seemed to be made almost entirely of glass and steel and marble. It was cold and I couldn’t imagine living here or paying the heating bill. A waiter offered us champagne and I reminded myself that I had been up since two in the morning and alcohol was a bad idea, but then I saw it was Cristal they were pouring and decided one wouldn’t hurt.

  Aaron steered us toward a group of people about his age. The party seemed to be divided into two groups: the hungry young lawyers eager to impress (apparently some even eager enough to agree to an arranged marriage), and the older well-established set. Ophelia was clearly straddling both crowds.

  Literally.

  I was introduced around to the group which was a mix of young guns and their partners. It became evident that Aaron was the only single one in the group.

  “It’s so nice to see Aaron with a date,” a woman named Kelly told me. “He’s all work and no play, this one.”

  “I wouldn’t say no play. I do play baseball.”

  “You know what I mean, silly.” She touched his arm in flirty way.

  That wasn’t cool. I clutched my champagne glass extra hard and plastered a smile on. They were a self-centered group. No need for me to worry about being interesting, I must have stood there for half an hour while they prattled on about work, no one asking me a question until Ophelia joined us.

  “So, Aaron, how long have you two been dating?”

  “About a month,” he said. The secret to a good lie as we all know is to keep it brief. Too many details and there is too much to remember.

  “You certainly have kept it hush, hush,” she added, flipping her hair with a perfectly manicured index finger.

  “You know how it is when things are new,” he said. “You sometimes want to keep it to yourself.”

  She turned her frosty gaze on me. “So what do you do, Piper?”

  I have a spiel that I use to promote my business and I was almost always ready to go at it all guns blazing, but I was nervous and it made me mumble. “I make pies. I mean I have some food trucks.”

  “Hang on,” said Kelly. “You’re Piper from Pied Piper Pies, aren’t you? I saw you in the business section of the Herald the other week. I thought you looked familiar.”

  “That’s me.”

  “Oh my goodness, your pies are amazing,” a g
uy called Sam joined in. “I love your rhubarb and apple, and, oh, the Moroccan.” He sighed.

  It seemed everyone in the circle except Ophelia was aware of my pies, so there was no need to blow my own trumpet at all. Aaron grinned down at me. This was all going swimmingly for him.

  “What an entrepreneurial spirit you are.” Ophelia’s compliment didn’t sound like a compliment. “I better go check on our other guests.”

  I was fading fast. Aaron pushed a curl over my shoulder as I stifled a yawn. “Tired?”

  “I’ve been up since two, sorry.”

  “Right. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.” He took my glass and handed it to the waiter.

  We excused ourselves from the group and headed to find the host.

  “Leaving so soon, son?” Rick asked when we found him.

  “Piper started work early this morning. It’s been a long day.”

  “No need to make excuses to me, you two. Young love and all that. Get out of here.”

  Aaron took my hand and we made our escape, Phase One complete. We had that crowd fooled.

  Down on the street, I turned to him. “You could have stayed and popped me in a taxi.”

  “Not on the third date.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  I was too tired to laugh. “Oh yeah. So you live near here, right?”

  “A few blocks over. Want to see?”

  “Sure.” I figured I should if we were getting married and I’d be moving in.

  Aaron lived in a brownstone not unlike the one Sarah Jessica Parker lived in on Sex in the City. The difference was, he had the whole thing to himself and this was Boston not New York.

  “It’s a bit much, right?”

  “It’s lovely. Aaron, are you kind of loaded? Because Cherie has a nice place, but it’s nothing like this.”

  “My dad and her dad are brothers, but my mother’s family is, as you put it, loaded. My grandparents gave me this when I graduated. It’s kind of embarrassing, really.”

  “It’s kind of fantastic.” I smiled at him.

  The furniture was classic American. Overstuffed sofas in muted tones, end tables dotted with lamps, and opulent Persian rugs. It had a hint of success, the smell of money, and some laid-back Aaron in the mix.

  “I don’t think anyone would believe that you’d leave all this behind to live above my kitchen.”

  “Men have done stranger things for love.”

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t feel like something you’d do, knowing you as I have for these last thirty-six hours.”

  “Who knows what I’d do for love? I’ve never been.”

  “You’ve never been in love?”

  He shook his head. “You?”

  “Well, sure. I have a regular habit of falling for the wrong guy.”

  “Like the one who brought you to the States?”

  “Oh yeah, he was perfect. Just not at all perfect for me.”

  “In what way?”

  “Well, he wasn’t great with monogamy. And he liked to gamble. Not a winning combination.”

  “I hope he was attractive at least?”

  “Yep, too attractive, which made the lack of monogamy way too easy for him.” I sounded flippant, but that bastard had nearly destroyed me and the mere thought of him unnerved me. I’d sworn off men ever since. He hadn’t been the first guy to break my heart, but he was definitely going to be the last. “How come you’ve never been in love?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a cynic. Not sure I even believe in love.” He already said this so I guess that was his way of telling me not to fall for him. “I mean, I guess some people fall in love, but I don’t think everyone does. I think lots of people are simply out there fooling themselves. They want to believe so they tell themselves its love.”

  “I didn’t have you picked as a cynic.”

  “I like to surprise.” He smiled at me. It was a warm smile. Maybe he’d never been in love, but plenty of people had been in love with him I was certain of that.

  Well that explained why Aaron, smart, attractive, and wealthy, was prepared to marry someone he didn’t know to advance his career. If love didn’t exist why hold out for it?

  When I finally hopped in a cab to go home, I looked back at Aaron standing in front of his impressive brownstone and wondered not for the first time what the heck I was doing?