“You’re not really dating.”
“Nope.” He ignored the twinge of disappointment that zapped him.
“Even though you’re trending on Twitter, and people are commenting that you two looked like soulmates as you gazed into each other’s eyes?”
Jada had the most amazing eyes he’d ever seen.
“Donovan?” His sister sounded way too hopeful.
He groaned. “No.”
“Oh. I was hoping what she said on the show was true. I really liked her and didn’t understand why she would go on a show just to humiliate somebody. Didn’t seem like her vibe.”
“We’re not dating.” He said it because it was true and maybe to remind himself. Just because he’d felt something new and sweet and hot during the kiss and had temporarily lost himself in the taste and scent and feel of her didn’t mean anything.
“Do you want to date her?” Sloane asked, apparently still hopeful. “Sounds like she could use a guy.”
“And dating her could boost your sales given the reaction tonight on Twitter,” Shana, the pragmatic accountant, added.
“No, I don’t, and really, Shana?” If there was a little tug of something near his heart that felt like regret, then whatever. He and Jada were not destined to be anything other than temporary boss and employee. No matter how soft her lips were or how good her body felt against his. “I have two focuses: making Sugar Blitz successful—without dating someone for the sole purpose of making that happen—and winning a Super Bowl next season. I don’t have time for anything else right now.” Especially someone who drove him crazy.
Chapter Ten
At 8:45 A.M., Jada made the right turn onto Sugar Blitz’s street.
What the hell?
Even from a block away, she had no trouble identifying the scene unfolding before her. A line of people started at the front door and extended down the sidewalk all the way to the stop sign at the end of the block. Were they here because of her? That was an arrogant assumption, but why else would so many people be here on a random Thursday morning before the cupcakery opened?
Shit.
Olivia had called her last night to let her know she was trending on Twitter and was the talk of Instagram. Jada had politely thanked her, ended the call, climbed in the bed, and chose to block out reality by binge-watching Nailed It! Low-stakes good times involving people who baked about as well as she did were all she could handle at the moment.
She didn’t want to think about Tamara’s video and the reactions to it. Apparently, that wasn’t the best decision. She should have been coming up with a game plan to handle the fallout of the Kiss instead. Jada blew out a breath. Oh, well.
Fortunately, Donovan had given her the code to come in through the back entrance. She drove around to the parking lot behind the store and pulled into a spot, thankful for her car’s tinted windows. Back here, everything was quiet. Normal.
She flipped down the visor and inspected her face in the mirror. At least her hair and makeup were on point. No need to mention the polo shirt and khakis she wore. Or the Crocs. And that was enough stalling.
Still, she kept her head down and entered the store as quickly as possible. Reality TV show fans could smell fear.
“I assume we have you to thank for that crowd out there.”
Jada’s head jerked up. But it wasn’t Donovan standing there. It was August, who’d just uttered the most words she’d ever heard from him. She offered up a weak smile. He nodded, his small smile sympathetic, and disappeared into the kitchen.
Jada loitered in the hall, indecision rooting her to the spot. Going out to the front of the store meant seeing all the people standing outside, who’d be staring at her through the windows. She could follow August to the kitchen, but that meant returning to the scene of the baking fiasco. Smoke probably still lingered in the air, undercutting the smells of chocolate and vanilla. She shuddered. And August was in there. Nicholas, too, most likely. They would have questions about the Kiss, assuming Donovan hadn’t filled them in.
Her stomach lurched, the strawberry cereal bar she’d forced herself to eat that morning rolling around in her stomach like a drunk uncle on the dance floor at a wedding. Oh, God, her mouth had gotten her into trouble yet again, figuratively and literally this time.
But she was a grown-up. Right? Right. She could do this. She threw back her shoulders and headed to the front of the store. She kept her eyes straight forward.
“Jada,” Donovan called out through the open door of his office.