Her Big City Neighbor - Jackie Lau Page 0,1

was dreadfully pretentious. As would Shane. But Shane thought a man cooking dinner was pretentious, so his opinions didn’t matter anymore.

But what intrigued Amy the most was that Harbord Coffee Bar had Japanese-style desserts. What would those be like?

The aroma of coffee hit her as she stepped inside. It was a minimalist design with lots of pale wood. To the right was the counter with a glass display case full of gorgeous pastries. Amy carefully read the description of each one. There were roll cakes, which seemed to be their specialty, plus cheesecake, cream puffs, and things she’d never seen before.

“Can I help you?” asked the lady behind the counter. Her nametag said “Lucy.”

Amy shot her a smile. “Just deciding.”

She let four people order before her. How was she supposed to decide when everything looked so good? One of the roll cakes had strawberries and whipped cream. It looked delicious, but no, she would try something different. Maybe something with hojicha, whatever that was.

“Which is your favorite?” she asked Lucy.

“Probably the strawberries and cream. Though the yuzu ginger is good, too. I think the dark chocolate raspberry is our most popular, or maybe the matcha and red bean.”

That didn’t make her decision any easier, but that was okay. Amy grinned.

At last, she decided on the matcha and red bean roll cake, as well as one of their fancy teas. Sencha. The prices nearly made her grimace—much more expensive than Tim Hortons—but she told herself it was okay.

Lucy said she’d bring everything over, so Amy tucked herself into the bench seating. Next to her, a man was typing on his laptop. On her other side, two women were having an animated conversation. She took out her book, but she didn’t start reading. It was too exciting to be here in Toronto at last.

Her roll cake and tea arrived. The tea, which was already steeped, was served not in a teapot or cup, but in a glass jug of sorts. She poured some tea into the little handle-less teacup, then had a bite of her cake.

The green cake was light and not too strong, and the cream inside, with a little red bean, was delicious. She’d never had anything sweet with beans before, and it wasn’t chocolate, but it was still pretty good.

Next, she tried the tea. It was a bit grassy, though not unpleasant, and with a few more sips, she’d get used to it.

She took out her book and read for twenty minutes while she slowly savored her cake and drank her tea. She was currently reading the sixth Sierra Wu book by Megan Chen. It was an urban fantasy series set in San Francisco that she absolutely adored. The cover had an ominous background, and Sierra Wu was standing at the forefront, wearing jeans and a black tank top and looking totally kick-ass.

After leaving Harbord Coffee Bar, she arrived back at the house and stood outside for another minute, admiring it. She glanced at the house on the right, separated from hers by the narrowest of paths. An older woman named Paula lived there. Amy had met her when she’d visited the house a few months ago, but when she’d knocked on the door today, nobody had answered.

She had no idea who lived in the house attached to hers, though.

Someday soon, she’d make a point of introducing herself to her neighbors—or was that sort of thing not done in Toronto? Well, she’d do it anyway.

But for now, she’d have a pre-dinner drink on her patio.

Her backyard was tiny. Yards were never this tiny in Silver River, but space was at a premium in downtown Toronto. The small patio took up a good third of the yard. Aunt Frances had owned some decent patio furniture, which Amy had set out earlier.

She brought a glass of red wine outside, along with her book. She set everything down on the little table, and then she registered a noise coming from the yard to the left.

Her neighbor must be cutting the grass.

She bounded over to the low fence that separated their yards and stood there slack-jawed.

Holy fuck, her new neighbor was hot.

He was East Asian, maybe five or ten years older than her. His chest, back, and arms were covered in tattoos.

She knew this because he was shirtless. He wore only a pair of black gym shorts, slung low on his hips. His upper half was on full display. The sight of his arms was nearly enough to make her drool, but then