A Moment of Bliss Read Free Page A

it is, and the view is undeniable.”
    Yes, the view was definitely undeniable.
    â€œWe can ignore it for now if you prefer. Just close your eyes. Look away and we’ll pretend it’s not there.”
    â€œToo late.”
    â€œWould you like to go outside?”
    She tapped her pen against her portfolio and looked around, at anything but her tour guide. “I think I’d like to see the restaurant now.”
    â€œBut you said . . . I mean, sure. Let’s go check out the restaurant. We can just avoid the ki—”
    â€œI’ll need to see the kitchen too, of course.” If he insisted on working the view in early, and doing that thing with his eyes, then she could insist on seeing the kitchen.
    â€œA heads-up though,” Roark said as he opened the restaurant door for her. “Our chef is still probably mid-cookie prep, and he’s a messy yet amazing chef. Don’t say you weren’t warned.”
    The restaurant was quiet and mostly empty, which made sense for midafternoon. A small bar took up the wall to the left, just inside the door, and only a bartender milled about. At the table nearest the bar, a dark-haired man sat, fully focused on his laptop, paperwork spread out around him, cell phone clutched to his ear.
    He glanced up and gave Roark a cursory nod, his gaze like a laser beam even from this distance. His dark hair was longer, but with the jawline and intense glare, he was definitely a Bradley.
    Roark nodded back, but neither of them smiled or made any effort to approach the other.
    Interesting.
    â€œSo this is Bradley’s.” Roark presented the restaurant without moving farther into it. “Steve is our bartender and he’s a genius. The restaurant is full service, but we can do catering in or out of house, depending on what you need.”
    â€œWho is that?” Madison played clueless and nodded to the man still hard at work on whatever he was doing.
    â€œThat’s my brother, Devlin. He’s our hospitality manager. I can introduce you later.” Roark held open one of the white swinging doors that had to lead to the kitchen.
    Madison went first and the scent of rich sweetness hit her before she even made it in the door.
    Her mouth fell open at the display before her, and she wasn’t the type to ever let her mouth fall open. “That is a lot of cookies.”
    Several different types of cookies lay carefully arranged on three silver platters. The usual chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, and peanut butter, but also a decadent, deep-orange colored cookie with a ribbon of creamy white, and the most elaborately decorated sugar cookies she’d ever seen. Thick frosting in chocolate, vanilla, and several other colors swirled over the tops. Some were even topped with a monogrammed H.
    â€œThose look. . . .” Madison swallowed back a little bit of drool. “Good.” Would it be bad form if she face-planted into one of the serving trays?
    â€œI tried to tell you, it’s dangerous in here right now. Wright is messy, but he prides himself on his desserts, and what used to be a few simple tea treats has turned into this.”
    â€œWright?”
    â€œOur chef. He’s probably outside with a produce vendor right now, but these are his pride and joy. He makes way too many. We always have leftovers, but every day he takes the remaining cookies to the children’s hospital or an assisted living facility, sometimes the school. I can’t complain about the extras without sounding like a—”
    â€œA jerk?”
    â€œYeah.” Roark puffed with a laugh, rocking back on his heels. “So I keep my mouth shut and let the chef do his thing.”
    Madison would’ve rolled her eyes at the halo polishing about giving cookies away to kids and the elderly, if he hadn’t been so honest about having to keep his mouth shut.
    â€œWhat are the orange ones?” she asked.
    â€œPumpkin Pleasure