A Taste for Love Page 21

  I murmur against her ear. “You okay?”

  Her chin taps my shoulder. I duck down to examine her face. Her cheeks are streaked with half-dried tears.

  “Let’s go talk to Nathan,” I suggest. “Maybe he can tell us what’s going on.”

  I thread an arm through hers and drag her back to the bakeshop. We make a beeline for Nathan. He’s talking with Jeannie but stops when he spots us.

  “You want to know what happened, don’t you?”

  I nod, and he gestures for us to sit down. I turn two chairs in the row in front of him around and guide Grace into one before taking the other. He scans the partially empty room before leaning in.

  “Okay, the short version is I’ve known Ben and James for years. Our parents did business together, so we spent a lot of time around each other. We even attended the same academy in New York, but I was a grade ahead. James always acted like he’s better than everyone else, but in high school, Ben and I started hanging out more. It didn’t take long for James to become jealous of how close we were getting.”

  As much as I hate to admit it, I can see James feeling threatened by someone as easygoing as Nathan.

  “Anyway, when Ben refused to stop being my friend, James did everything he could to make me look bad. He convinced Ben’s parents I was the reason their son was partying so much, especially after he wrecked his car one night. They went so far as to contact my modeling agency and get me dropped. After that, Ben stopped talking to me too. It’s been a year now, and I’m still having trouble booking jobs.”

  I fall back against my chair, and my chest starts to throb. Can this really be true? I glance at Grace, who’s staring at Nathan with a pinched expression.

  “I’m so sorry this happened to you, babe,” Jeannie answers, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It must have been awful.”

  “That wasn’t even the worst part. I found out my dad was having an affair with Ben’s mom too.” Nathan drops his head. “I treated them like brothers, and they turned their backs on me. It’s part of the reason why I came down for the summer, to get away from the drama. At least, that’s what I thought I was doing.”

  My head is spinning. I remember him mentioning his dad’s affairs, but with Ben’s mom? This is only supposed to happen in Asian dramas. Nathan presses his face into Jeannie’s shoulder, and she murmurs comforting words. Grace turns to me.

  “Can I borrow you for a sec?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  She leads me out of the room and down the hall to the cafeteria. After checking to make sure we’re alone, she gestures for me to sit down at the closest table.

  “Do you believe him, Liza?”

  “I . . . maybe?” I tug at my earring. “I don’t know.”

  “I think he’s lying. Or at least, not telling us everything,” Grace says.

  The conviction in her tone makes me raise my eyebrows.

  “Why do you think that?”

  She glances out the window. “It’s something Ben told me a while back, that he almost got in trouble with the police because of a false accusation. That’s why his parents suggested he move down here early.”

  “Did he give you a name?”

  “No, but now that all this has happened, I’m sure it’s Nathan.”

  I frown. “Maybe we should go ask him, then.”

  I start to head back, but she stops me. “Don’t! He’ll know that we know.”

  “How can he possibly know that we know?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t want Nathan to know we know what Ben knows.”

  My brain nearly short-circuits from the wheel of knows. Taking a moment to reorient myself, I consider her accusation. Can Nathan really be the reason why Ben fled New York? Conveniently, the one person who can clear this up isn’t talking.

  We head quickly back to the bakeshop to rejoin the others. As if summoned by our conversation, Ben and James enter the room together. Both steadfastly avoid meeting anyone’s eye as they return to their stations. Mom, Mrs. Lee, and Chef Anthony return shortly after.

  “The judges have deliberated. Mrs. Lee, if you please?”

  She tucks her hands behind her back, but her eyes dim when they land on James’s station. I don’t have to see his face to know what’s probably on it.

  “Mrs. Yang and I were unanimous in our decision this bake. The contestant going home today is . . . Albert.”

  I tense. Rather than throwing a bowl or something equally breakable, Albert slouches on his stool and pouts.

  “As for our brilliant baker this week, it goes to someone who already showed great promise on day one. Congratulations, James. You’ve done it again.”

  There’s a smattering of applause in the room. He never takes his eyes off the front wall nor makes an attempt to smile. Mom is perplexed but smiles at the rest of the group.

  “Well, contestants, it’s been quite an exciting day. I hope you get some rest and relaxation before we meet again. Just don’t forget to practice, because the next challenge theme is . . . bread.”

  Sammy pumps his fist. “Yes!”

  The minute we’re dismissed, Ben flees. James looks back at me once, eyes unreadable, before following his cousin out the door.

  Chapter 21

  The next day, I’m startled awake just before ten by a series of back-to-back texts. As I unlock my phone with half-open eyes, it rings. I yawn before answering.

  “Hello?”

  There’s crying on the other end of the line. I bolt up in bed.

  “Grace? Is that you? What’s wrong?”

  Crying turns into full-on sobbing. I hear shuffling on the phone, and then another voice comes on.

  “Liza? This is Mrs. Chiu. Do you mind coming over? I hate to bother you, but I can’t get Grace to tell me what’s wrong.”

  I’m out of bed and changed by the time she finishes talking. I had planned on inviting Grace to spend the night with me after what happened, but she rushed out of the bakeshop without even saying goodbye. When she didn’t respond to any of my texts, I assumed she’d gone to sleep.

  Mom and Dad are already at work, and Jeannie is out with Nathan again, so no one’s there to question where I’m going. I hop in the car and head a few miles down the road. I pull into the driveway as Mrs. Chiu opens the door.

  “That was fast.”

  It’s said with concern, not accusation. I throw her a grin before toeing my shoes off and launching myself up the stairs to Grace’s room. I knock twice and then barge right in. Grace’s room is as familiar as my own. Ballet-pink walls are covered in canvas prints of glittery inspirational quotes and elaborate paper flowers. Her desk, positioned directly below a picture window, is cluttered with fashion magazines, and a bow-shaped chair is tucked against it. I turn toward her bed, where pink and cream throw pillows have been tossed to the floor.

  “Grace? It’s me,” I say softly.

  She’s curled up in bed, surrounded by a mountain of used tissues. Her face is blotched and stained with tears, and dark circles rim her eyes. I climb into bed beside her.

  “Grace . . .” I brush the strands of hair sticking to her cheeks to one side. “Tell me what happened.”

  She hands me her phone, too choked up to explain. “Read the text.”

  I open up her messages, instantly drawn to the one on top. It’s from Ben, sent right after midnight. I brace myself.

  I don’t think we should be together anymore, Grace. I’m sorry.

  “That’s it?” I say, more to myself.

  I scroll up and skim through dozens of saccharine declarations and random conversations between the two of them. The last one of those was sent yesterday before the baking began.

  “I saw it when I woke up this morning. I . . . I don’t understand,” she says. “What did I do?”

  I toss her phone aside and grab her gently
by the shoulders.

  “Nothing. You’ve done nothing wrong, Grace. Didn’t you say James wouldn’t even let you talk to Ben yesterday?”

  Grace nods and wipes her nose with the tissue I hand her.

  “I think this is his doing,” I continue. “Ben would never break up with you otherwise.”

  “You . . . you think so?”

  I nod. “I know so. Ben’s liked you since the moment you guys met. There’s no way he would change his mind just like that.”

  A knot forms in my stomach. I wanted so badly to believe that James was better than this, that Nathan was lying all along. But now? After what he’s done to Grace?

  She sniffles. “What am I going to do?”

  “You’re going to relax and get some sleep. I’ll take care of this.”

  I roll off the bed, hell-bent on making James pay. She grabs my wrist as I’m about to head out the door.

  “Liza, no. I don’t want you to have to see James. Not for me. Maybe you can just text him or something.”

  I flinch at the stab to my chest. I’ve already tried that, and he completely ignored me.

  “If James did this, he won’t admit it unless I’m standing right in front of him. Besides, I’m just going to talk to him.”

  More like beat him into submission, but close enough.

  “But you don’t know how to find him,” Grace reminds me.

  This gives me pause, but then I remember something very important and grin.

  “Mom has his address on file. It’s on the application form. All the contestants have to fill one out.”

  After tossing all the dirty tissues into her trash can, I lean down to give her another bear hug.

  “Get some sleep. I’ll bring you some boba in a little bit, okay?”

  “Thanks, Liza.”

  I shut the lights off and close the door. Downstairs, Mrs. Chiu is anxiously waiting in the living room. She perks up as I appear in the doorway.

  “How is she?”

  “She’ll be okay. I have to take care of something at home, but I’ll be back later if that’s all right.”

  “Of course it is! Come back whenever you want.”

  I drive home as fast as I can without risking being pulled over. I might want revenge, but Mom will kill me if I get a ticket. Once I’m in the house, I go straight to the study. Piles of paper are strewn around the room, both on the floor and the desk, burying it beneath them. I can’t believe Mom and Dad harp on me for not cleaning my room when it looks like a bomb went off in here.

  I square my shoulders and begin on one end of the desk, flipping through the stacks of papers as carefully as I can. Most of them are receipts or bills for the restaurant or bakery, or letters from family back home in Taiwan. My graduation photos are also lying on the desk, missing the one Mom ultimately used.

  My eyes land on a box holding at least a hundred more contest flyers. I have to physically hold myself back.

  Grace first. Arson later.

  I resume my search. Thirty minutes later, I finally find what I’m looking for in a small filing cabinet filled to the brim with this year’s applications. They are alphabetized, but before I can search in the Ws, my phone goes off. It’s a text from Sarah.

  Can we meet up somewhere? Need to talk.

  I think back to my conversation with Edward. Maybe a break wouldn’t hurt. My first instinct is to suggest Boba Life, but the last thing I want is to run into James or Ben right now.

  How about Juiceland?

  Sounds great. See you there in thirty.

  I put everything back mostly in place and stand up to stretch my aching muscles. With my purse and phone in tow, I drive over to Juiceland. A bowl of mango shaved ice sounds amazing right now. As I pull into the plaza, a grand opening across the parking lot catches my eye. It’s another new tea place—Tea Bear. I glance at my watch. Sarah probably won’t get here for another ten minutes. Might as well go check it out.

  As I near the door, a familiar figure freezes me in my tracks.

  It’s James.

  I duck behind a pillar. How the hell did we still end up in the same place? He’s standing in line with Ben, and a pair of girls is chatting with them. Ben is polite but doesn’t really seem interested. James, on the other hand, laughs at something the taller girl says. I hate the pain that rips through me and makes it hard to breathe. My plan to confront James suddenly feels insurmountable, an Everest-size hurdle more likely to conquer me than the other way around.

  “Liza?” Sarah says from behind me. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, yep,” I answer, the words coming out in a rush. “Everything’s fine. Totally fine. Let’s go to Juiceland.”

  Not giving her a chance to answer, I loop my arm through hers and drag her away. As we step into the shop, we’re greeted by clear acrylic tables spread across a room with bright yellow walls and painted navy concrete floors. We put in our orders—mango shaved ice for me, strawberry for her—and once they’re ready, we bring our bowls over to a table in the back. I shove a bite of mango and ice drenched in condensed milk in my mouth before peering at Sarah.

  “So, what did you want to talk about?”

  She swallows. “Okay, I’m just going to come out and ask. Do you like Edward?”

  “What? No!” I sputter. “Not in the least.”

  I hadn’t noticed how tense she was, but it melts off her face with my answer. She fiddles with one of her auburn curls, and her green eyes dart up to meet mine.

  “Well, he seems to like you a lot. He’s always talking to you and baking things to impress you.”

  “That’s not because he likes me. It’s because our moms have been trying to set us up.”

  Her mouth hangs open. “What? Why?”

  “It’s a long story,” I say after shoving another spoonful of mango into my mouth, “but you know how my mom feels about my ex-boyfriends.”

  “Wait, is this one of those arranged marriage deals?” she asks, waggling her eyebrows. “I saw a documentary on Netflix about it the other day.”

  I laugh. “It’s not, and I don’t want you giving my mom any ideas.”

  Sarah giggles. I eat more of my shaved ice, savoring the sweet flavors. When I look up at Sarah, she’s lost in thought. On a hunch, I lean forward, my arms on the table.

  “Wait. Why are you asking? Do you like him?”

  “I . . .” She flushes scarlet. “Maybe? We’ve been talking a lot during the breaks, and he’s really sweet. We’ve even hung out and listened to opera.”

  “Opera?”

  Her eyes sparkle with excitement. “Yeah! In fact, he showed me some videos of Taiwanese opera, and it was . . .”

  Weird? Creepy? Annoying?

  “Really interesting! The elaborate costumes, the sets, and the singing! It’s so unique.”

  I guess opera really does transcend culture, though I’m still not a fan. Since it’s clear Sarah’s gearing up for a full-blown analysis, I quickly pull us back to the topic at hand.

  “Look, the point is Edward doesn’t like me, and I don’t like him.” I wave my spoon at her. “Also, he listened to opera with you. And then showed you more opera. No guy does that unless he likes you.”

  Sarah starts to speak, but I cut her off.

  “Even Asian guys.”

  She balks. “That’s not what I was going to say!”

  I smirk.

  “Liza! I wasn’t!”

  I throw my hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m kidding. But not about this. I have it on good authority Edward only likes girls with curly hair. Actually, just one in particular.”

  The color floods back into her cheeks. As if on cue, her phone pings. Sarah gasps.

  “It’s him.”

  “Well?”

  Her eyes move across the message, and
she lets out a squeak. “He asked if I’d like to see a movie with him later.”

  A wide smile spreads across her face. I nudge her arm.

  “See? I told you.”

  “I’m going to see if he wants to join us here for shaved ice first.”

  As Sarah’s fingers fly over her keyboard, I catch Ben and James walking past the front door. The girls they were with earlier are nowhere in sight. My anger, momentarily forgotten, flares back hotter than the flames in Dad’s kitchen. I’m on my feet and out the door in a flash.

  “Liza! Liza, wait! Where are you going?”

  I stop short on the sidewalk, and Sarah collides into me with a yelp.

  “Sorry! I didn’t . . .”

  She trails off, her eyes landing on the subjects of my scrutiny. Ben’s having trouble looking at me, while James delivers a dismissive glance my way. Shoppers brush past us as they make their way along the strip of stores we’re standing in front of, but the two of them remain silent. I’m trying to decide which of my looks is the most lethal when the two girls come bounding over. The taller one takes hold of James’s arm.

  “Do you guys want to grab something to eat?”

  If I didn’t know better, I’d say I saw a flicker of regret on James’s face. Sarah steps forward, but I warn her off with a subtle shake of my head.

  “How is she?”

  For a second, I’m sure I imagined Ben’s whispered words over the noise in the plaza. Then he asks again, louder.

  “How’s Grace?”

  I gape at him. Is he serious? He breaks up with her and now he wants to know how she is? I explode.

  “I’d say ask her yourself, but that would require you to be less of a coward. A text? Really?”

  James steps forward. “Liza, stop.”

  I shift the full weight of my rage onto him. He stills beneath my daggered gaze, while the girls murmur an excuse and run off. Sarah’s still at my side, but she stays quiet.

  “Don’t tell me what to do. He broke Grace’s heart, and since she’s too busy crying at home to say anything, I’m going to.”