15. Rian

15

RIAN

T he kitchen of The Hungry Minotaur feels smaller than usual today as I pace back and forth, my hooves clicking against the tile floor. The warm scent of pumpkin muffins and cinnamon rolls usually soothes my nerves, but today, it only serves to remind me of last night, of the warm vanilla smell of Natalie’s hair, and of the moment Natalie and I almost...

I sigh, trying to banish the memory, but it replays on a loop. The way she looked at me, the way we leaned in...

I wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt, but I couldn’t, not without telling her the truth first. That I’m the one she’s been pouring her heart out to in that journal.

Guilt claws at my insides, tearing into me. I should have come clean before letting things escalate like that. I know that the anonymity has been her choice—I offered, of course, and she declined to know who I was. But that was before things had become so intimate between us in the letters.

If she knew it was me corresponding with her… how would even she feel about it?

What if I ruined everything? I can’t lose her, not when we were just starting to... What? Connect? Is that even possible now, with this huge secret between us?

I force myself to focus on testing recipes, both for the bakery and for the next round of the cooking competition. Losing myself in the motions of measuring, mixing, and kneading. New flavor ideas flit through my mind.

Pumpkin custard with a ginger snap crust, apple cider donuts with a peanut butter and maple glaze. Decadent lemon cake made with coconut milk.

I pour my conflicted heart into every dish, determined to channel this inner chaos into culinary creativity.

Yet even elbow-deep in dough, I can’t stop thinking about her.

Is she okay after I pulled away so abruptly last night? Does she think I’m not interested?

The longer I let this secret identity drag on, the heavier it weighs on me. I have to come clean, lay it all out there, and face the fallout. I just pray she can forgive me for not telling her sooner.

“Hey, Dad!” Jessa bounces into the kitchen, jarring me out of my spiraling thoughts. Thrasher is perched on her shoulder, filling the air with burps of floating bubbles. Jessa’s clearly in a much better mood today after spending the night away with her friends.

I paste on a smile, trying to ignore how that hurts.

Just a year ago, she’d be this rejuvenated and happy after spending time with me . I cannot be jealous of a gaggle of twelve-year-olds. Seriously, I can’t.

“Hey sweetie, welcome back. How was the sleepover? Did you girls have fun?”

“It was awesome! We practiced levitation spells and had a movie marathon. Although every five minutes we had to pause Gargoylez, because Allegra kept pointing out all the inaccuracies.” Jessa rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning.

I chuckle, picturing Caldor’s precocious daughter educating them on gargoyle culture. “Sounds like a blast. I’m glad you had a good time.” Then I turn back to my mixing bowl, nervous to do anything to shatter this fragile moment of normalcy between us.

“So what did you do last night? Were you totally bored without me?” Jessa teases, plopping down on a stool. This was the kind of banter I missed from her.

“Nah, it was actually a pretty fun evening. I had trivia night,” I say, scooping the pumpkin custard into ginger snap crusts. “Mariah couldn’t make it, though, so Natalie joined our team.”

At the mention of Natalie’s name, Jessa’s eyes light up with an excited sparkle.

“Natalie is so cool, Dad! Did you know she represents famous musicians? Not just Ecco, but lots of amazing celebrities. Like, she gets them gigs and helps manage their careers. Isn’t that the most boss chick job ever?”

Jessa gushes on, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “And her makeup skills are unreal. She always looks like she just stepped out of a magazine photoshoot. Ugh, I hope I can be that put-together and successful when I grow up.”

As I listen to Jessa sing Natalie’s praises, a realization dawns on me. My daughter is positively glowing, her whole demeanor transformed by the mere mention of Natalie. It seems Jessa is responding to the presence of a strong, capable woman in her life. Someone she can admire and aspire to be like.

In that moment, a metaphorical lightbulb flickers on in my mind. Jessa is clearly enamored with Natalie…

What if I invited Natalie to join us for some of the cooking competition prep? I have no idea if the woman can bake at all, but it would give Jessa a chance to spend time with her new role model, and maybe, just maybe, reignite her passion for our family traditions.

It may also give me an opportunity to come clean to Natalie about the journal without a disastrous fall out.

Seizing the opportunity before it slips away, I turn to Jessa with a conspiratorial grin. “You really like Natalie, huh? What would you say if I asked her to come help us out with the cooking competition? You know, bring us some new perspective, fresh ideas?”

Jessa’s face splits into a megawatt smile, her eyes crinkling with pure joy. “Really? You think she’d want to? That would be amazing!” She bounces on her stool, suddenly a ball of excited energy.

I can’t help but chuckle at her infectious enthusiasm. “I think she might be open to it. Let me talk to her.”

Jessa nods eagerly, already lost in visions of baking alongside her newfound hero. I turn back to my work, a plan already forming.

I’ll go see Natalie first thing tomorrow. Apologize for my abrupt exit, tell her how much it would mean to Jessa to have her help. Then if the moment feels right… I’ll finally confess about the journals.

My stomach twists with nerves at the thought, but I know it’s time. No more secrets, no more hiding.

If I want a real chance with Natalie, as friends, or maybe something more, I have to put all my cards on the table.

Tomorrow, one way or another, everything changes.

The next day, I find myself standing outside Natalie’s building, my heart doing a frantic tarantella against my ribcage. I breathe deeply, trying to steady my nerves, and lift a hand to knock.

The door swings open and there stands Natalie, her expression guarded and uncertain when she sees it’s me. The sight of her sends a fresh wave of guilt crashing over me.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to meet her gaze.

“Natalie, hey. I… I was hoping we could talk for a minute?” My voice comes out rougher than I intend, thick with remorse.

She hesitates, searching my face. Then, with a small nod, she steps back to let me in. I cross the threshold into the old storefront, the click of the door closing behind us sounding almost ominous.

“I wanted to apologize,” I begin, the words tumbling out in a rush. “For the other night, for just… leaving like that. I feel like we had a moment, or at least I thought we did, and then I went and shut it down.”

I rake a hand through my hair and over my horns, frustration and regret warring in my chest.

“I’m so sorry if I made things awkward between us. That’s the last thing I wanted. I just... I hope we can continue getting to know each other, because I really enjoy your company.”

Natalie listens silently, her arms crossed protectively over her chest.

“I appreciate your apology, Rian,” she says at last, her voice carefully neutral. “I won’t lie, it did sting a bit when you ran off like that. But I get it. This… whatever this is between us… it’s complicated.”

She gestures vaguely, encompassing the space between us, laden with unspoken history and tangled emotions.

I nod, relief and gratitude rushing through me. “Complicated. Yeah, that about sums it up,” I agree with a rueful chuckle. “But I don’t want that to stop us from being friends. In fact, I actually had something I wanted to ask you...”

Taking a fortifying breath, I meet Natalie’s gaze.

“I was hoping you might be willing to help Jessa and me with the family cooking competition we’re doing. Jessa has been struggling a little lately, as you know. And it seems she absolutely adores you, and I think having you around would really motivate her to get more involved.” I pause, gauging her reaction. “I know you’re super busy with work and your magic lessons, so no pressure. But if you’re interested...”

Natalie’s expression softens as I explain my idea, her arms slowly uncrossing.

“So, you think having me around might help Jessa engage more with the competition?” she asks, a glimmer of curiosity shining through her guarded exterior.

I nod, my heart swelling with hope. “Absolutely. She really looks up to you, Natalie. I think having you there, even just to help with our prep beforehand, could make all the difference. We’d love to have you at the actual events with us, though.”

A smile lights up her face. “Well, I suppose I could?—”

But before she can finish her sentence, a sudden commotion outside draws our attention. Natalie and I exchange a puzzled glance before rushing to the window, peering out at the street.

A group of well-dressed individuals are making their way towards the building, Barnabus leading the charge. There’s no mistaking who they must be—potential buyers for the property, drawn by the news that it may still be available for sale.

Natalie tenses beside me, her hand gripping the windowsill. “I lost track of the time—Barnabus arranged an open house for today.”

A pang of sympathy shoots through me. I know how much pressure Natalie is under, how badly she needs to make this sale.

“Natalie,” I say softly, turning to face her. “I know this is important to you. I… I hope you find a new buyer, but I know you need to do what’s right for you, ultimately.”

She meets my gaze, her eyes searching mine. For a moment, I think she might brush me off, retreat behind her professional facade. But then, to my surprise, she reaches out and rests a hand on my shoulder.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice husky, and suddenly my body thrums with desire, imagining her using that voice to say… other things. “And Rian? I’m in. For the competition, I mean. Just let me know when and where, and I’ll be there.”

Relief and gratitude wash over me in equal measure. “Thank you, Natalie. You have no idea how much this means to me. To Jessa.”

She smiles, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze before stepping back. “I should probably head out there,” she says, nodding towards the window. “But I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” I echo, watching as she grabs her blazer and slides it on, transforming back into the polished, put-together Natalie I first met.

As she heads for the door, I’m struck by a sudden realization. This is it. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. If I’m going to come clean about the journal, about everything, it has to be now.

“Natalie, wait,” I blurt out, my heart hammering against my ribs. “There’s something else?—”

Before I can finish, a sharp knock at the door cuts me off. Natalie shoots me an apologetic look. “Hold that thought,” she says, pulling the door open to reveal Barnabus on the other side, flanked by two impeccably dressed humans.

“Natalie, dear,” Barnabus greets her, his voice warm but distracted. “I hope you’re ready for the open house. We have quite a few interested parties here, eager to see the property.”

“Of course,” Natalie replies smoothly, slipping into her professional persona. “Just give me one moment, and I’ll be right out.” She shoots me a look, half-apology, half-promise. “We’ll talk later,” she mouths silently before turning back to Barnabus and his companions. “Shall we?”

And there goes another chance to right my wrongs.