Baked With Love

by Tina Martin

  Great. Now he had to deal with this convoluted mess, and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. He released a deep sigh and tapped his knuckles on his wooden desk. Four weeks ago, he’d contacted Felicity James of Wedded Bliss, Inc. – the first of its kind matchmaking service in Charlotte catered to helping men. Wedded Bliss specialized in finding wives for busy, high-ranking businessmen who either didn’t have time to date or who chose not to go through all the rigmarole to find a suitable trophy wife. They were too busy running their businesses or advancing their careers to spend an undetermined amount of time searching for Mrs. Right. Still, they needed one. Seemed people felt comfortable doing business with a man who could show that he could be a businessman and family man all rolled up into one extraordinary human.

  That’s where Felicity came in. After the men completed a thorough, ten-page profile of themselves, in addition to writing a description of their perfect woman, Felicity would carefully choose three women from her database who she deemed as matches. She’d sent Ramsey three matches a month ago and had yet to hear from him.

  “Ms. James, how goes it?” he asked.

  “I’m doing well, Mr. St. Claire. How about yourself?”

  “I’m good. And busy. Good and busy.” He managed a grin.

  “You must be. When I didn’t hear from you, I thought you were out of the country again.”

  When she had contacted him the week after emailing the three profiles, he was out of the country – in Paris with his brother Regal. Even though that was the case, he still could’ve studied the profiles, but he hadn’t bothered. On one end, he liked the convenience of the services Wedded Bliss offered, but on the other, finding a wife, a partner in life partner should’ve been more personal than going to a matchmaking service. But that’s precisely why he went. He’d been in love once in his lifetime. One time, and he had no desire, no yearning – nothing in him wanted to fall in love again. He just wanted a wife because he felt like he had to have one. A companion. Someone to bounce his thoughts and ideas off of. Someone to satisfy his mother’s constant nagging about her oldest son settling down and becoming an example for his brothers. Wedded Bliss provided the fastest way for him to accomplish that.

  “I’m not out of the country, Mrs. James. I’m here. I’ve just been busy.”

  “Okay, umm…I’m picking up a different vibe here,” Felicity said. “You don’t want to go through this, do you?”

  “I do…no pun intended.” He chuckled.

  “Well, have you looked at the profiles?”

  “No. I honestly didn’t have time to.”

  “Four weeks and not even a peek?”

  “No. I run the most successful architecture firm in Charlotte. My time is very limited.”

  “You knew that before you hired me, did you not?”

  She had him there. “I did. Yes. Okay. I will make it a point today to print out the profiles and go over them with a fine-tooth comb. You know how particular I am.”

  “Yes, I do, which is why I chose the best of the best for you. Your future wife is in your inbox, Mr. St. Claire. You just have to take the initiative and open the email first.”

  He laughed. Your wife is in your inbox. “Okay. I’ll have a look.”

  “Today?”

  “Yes. Today.”

  “Okay, but just so I know you’re serious this time, I’m going to need you to come by my office tomorrow afternoon, let’s say around four to go over those profiles. So print—”

  “Sorry to interrupt you Ms. James, but I do not have the time to drive to South Park tomorrow. I don’t see why we can’t do this over the phone.”

  “Because I need to know that you’re committed to this process, and as it stands, I don’t feel like you’re taking this seriously. You’re already beyond the thirty days on this and it’s your own fault, Mr. St. Claire. If you’re not here tomorrow, unfortunately, I’ll have to place you as inactive in our database which will also mean, you forfeit your five-thousand dollar deposit.”

  Ramsey groaned. He could not care less about the five grand even if he did want to drop out of the service, which he didn’t. He needed a wife – one whom he could lay out some ground rules and she’d oblige without much resistance or expectations. “Okay. Tomorrow. Four o’clock. Got it.”

  “Wonderful. Have a good day, Mr. St. Claire.”

  “You as well.”

  He hung up the phone and rubbed his forehead. I should’ve never signed up for this. Then he thought about what Felicity had said – your wife is in your inbox. So, he found her email, opened the three attachments and immediately printed them out. The profiles had the women’s first names, a single photo and descriptions of them:

  Name: Irma Lakes

  Age: 26

  Occupation: Dental Assistant

  Description: Hi. I’m Irma! I’m a family oriented gal who loves to fish, sing, dance and have fun. Any time with me is a good time.

  ___________

  Ramsey rolled his eyes. “You can have fun with somebody else, gal,” he mumbled. He went on to the second one:

  Name: Cayla Cartwright

  Age: 31

  Occupation: IT Consultant

  Description: I’m too busy to date, so I decided this was the best route for me to find the perfect man to be my husband. I’m looking for Mr. Tall, Dark and Extremely Handsome who’s good with his hands and wants kids. I don’t ask for much, just be who you say you are and we’ll be just fine.

  ___________

  Ramsey sighed heavily. There was no way he’d give Cayla Cartwright any consideration simply because of the emphasis she placed on her ideal man’s physical appearance – tall, dark and extremely handsome. Seemed she cared about the man’s looks more than who he was as a person. He went on to the last profile:

  Name: Shelly Langford

  Age: 28

  Occupation: Middle Math School Teacher

  Description: Hello. I’m good at Math. Meeting people, not so much. I like to entertain and looking for someone who loves to travel, who’s good with people and can hold a conversation.

  ___________

  Frustrated, Ramsey dropped the profiles on his desk and returned to the windows, staring down at the pond below – one he’d designed eight years ago before the doors of St. Claire Architects opened. The women Felicity chose for him were pretty, and maybe they were interesting to some other man, but not him. That’s when he realized that signing up for this service was a bad idea, and he would tell Felicity that in person tomorrow. None of these women didn’t sound half as interesting as the woman he’d met today – whatever her name was. Tomorrow, he’d make it his mission to find out.

  Chapter 3

  After locking up the bakery, Gianna rushed home to her three-bedroom house, eager to see her sister since, today, Gemma had gotten her first chemotherapy treatment. If she didn’t have to open the bakery, she would’ve been right there at the hospital with her. But she had to work. It was the only income to support herself and her sister.

  As soon as she unlocked the door, she called out, “Gemma, where are you?”

  “In here,” was Gemma’s groggy, unenthusiastic reply.

  Gianna rounded the corner, took a few steps down the small hallway and immediately saw her sister’s pale, freckled face as she laid in bed. Since she was getting chemo, Gemma decided to cut her hair short so she wouldn’t feel so bad about it falling out. The little she had left was standing straight up in the air like it hadn’t seen a brush all day. It probably hadn’t. Gemma usually kept her hair hidden beneath a scarf. Right now, she looked like she could barely keep her eyes open.

  Standing beside the bed, Gianna asked, “Why is it so hot in here, Gem? You didn’t turn the air on?”

  “No. It feels fine in here.”

  “No, it doesn’t feel fine. It’s hot and stuffy.” She touched her sister’s forehead with the backside of her hand. “You have a slight temperature, and you look a mess, Gem.”

  “Well, I feel a mess,
so there,” she drawled.

  Gianna helped her sit up and made her comfortable by adjusting the pillows behind her back. “Have you eaten?”

  “Why? So I can throw it all back up again? No thanks.”

  “Gem, you have to eat something. Let me go see what we have.”

  “Good luck with that. The fridge is as empty as my hopes and dreams.”

  “Come on, Gem. Don’t kid around like that.”

  Gemma shrugged. “I’m just sayin’.”

  Gianna sighed heavily, looking at her sister. She knew she was joking, but her words actually stung. She wanted so much more for her sister. She didn’t deserve this. “Let me go see what we have. I’ll be right back.”

  Gianna walked to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator to see that it was bare.

  “Jeez,” she said in an undertone, pushing the refrigerator door shut. Then she walked over to the pantry, discovering they were also out of soup, Gemma’s food of choice – pretty much the only food guaranteed not to give her heartburn and was simple to eat. She grumbled while her stomach rumbled. “Now, I need to leave her alone yet again to pick up some food.”

  Gianna felt bad enough that she couldn’t go to her sister’s appointment today. Now, she couldn’t even cook her anything to eat. She nibbled on her bottom lip.

  Okay…think, Gianna. You could just run to a grocery store. It’s only a few miles from here. Gemma will be okay until you get back. But what if she wasn’t okay? What if she passed out or slipped and hit her head while trying to walk to the bathroom or something? What then?

  Leaning against the counter in the kitchen, Gianna held her head and attempted a deep breathing technique – something her doctor told her to do whenever she felt like she was under too much pressure. Lately, she’d been feeling it a lot, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the first time she started having anxiety attacks – when she found out her little sister had cancer. She’d passed out then, right there in the doctor’s office. She couldn’t pass out now. Gemma needed her to be strong.

  She pulled one long breath in and released a long breath out.

  “Think, Gianna. Think.”

  Long breath in…

  Then the doorbell rang and snapped her out of her breathing technique because she remembered that her best friend, Felicity was coming over today.

  Felicity!

  Why didn’t it dawn on her to call Felicity and have her bring some food? She rushed to the front door as the doorbell sounded again and when she opened it, there stood Felicity holding two takeout bags.

  “You read my mind. Thank you!” Gianna said, hugging her friend.

  “Gianna, why are you choking me, girlfriend?”

  “Because I was freaking out, on the verge of another anxiety attack when I realized I didn’t have any food in this house and I was afraid to leave Gemma home to go get something. Then you showed up! You’re a lifesaver. Thank you!”

  “Okay, anaconda, let me go so I can breathe.”

  “Oh, sorry. Okay. Come in.”

  “Thank you,” Felicity said, stepping inside. “I did tell you I was coming over today, didn’t I? I’m sure I did.”

  “Yes, you did. I just forgot. It’s been such a hectic day at the bakery and—”

  “Gianna, calm down. You sound all panicky. Ew. I don’t want that rubbing off on me. Sit down, girl. Take a breath.”

  “Right,” Gianna agreed, pacing her breaths.

  In the kitchen, Felicity stepped out of her heels then took a container of rice out of the bag. “I got this for Gemma. Do you think she can eat that?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know if she’s up to eating.”

  “I’ll give it to her, anyway,” Felicity said. “Be right back.”

  While she was gone, Gianna opened her takeout box to reveal sesame chicken with fried rice. She began eating, nearly inhaling the food. “This is so good,” she mumbled.

  “Did you not eat at all this week?” Felicity quipped, walking into the kitchen.

  “You know I rarely take lunch breaks. I mean, how can I? Cupcakes have to be baked and frosted.”

  “I understand that, but you have to eat,” Felicity said, taking a seat, starting on her dinner.

  “Well, I wasn’t hungry at work, but now I’m starving.”

  “I can see that,” Felicity said.

  “Was Gemma awake?” Gianna asked.

  “Barely, although I think the smell of that fried rice got her eyes open. She’s probably eating it now.” Felicity stirred her rice. “So, did she talk to you about the treatment?”

  “She did, but she was very vague about it. She hasn’t been exactly forthcoming with information these days. She just said the treatment made her feel sick.”

  “Does she know that Dr. Willoughby told you she had…um…roughly two months to live if the chemo doesn’t work?”

  Gianna shook her head slowly. “She doesn’t know that I know. I just pray that it works. Dr. Willoughby told me to be optimistic.” Gianna tried to take the doctor’s advice, but with a mounting pile of medical bills and no assurances from the doctors that Gemma had a real chance, she found herself more pessimistic, anxious and nervy than anything else.

  “I’m praying for her, Gianna, and you.”

  Gianna smiled warmly at her friend. When they were growing up together, Felicity was always the feisty, loud-mouthed, outgoing one. The cheerleader. The kind of girl who could get any man she wanted. Who could do anything she wanted. That’s why they made good friends – they were exact opposites – and even though that was the case, Felicity had always been a loyal friend. “Thank you, Felicity. And thanks for bringing food.”

  “You’re welcome, as always.” Felicity took a drink of water. “Since your day was hectic, I take it business must be picking up now, huh?”

  “Well, no. Not really.”

  “Then what happened today?”

  Gianna smiled. “Nothing.” She shook her head, remembering how much of a fool she’d made of herself. She’d never been comfortable around men—especially good-looking, accomplished, confident ones who knew they had it like that. And the guy who stopped by her bakery today definitely had it like that.

  Felicity’s eyes narrowed. “You’re holding back. Tell me what happened?”

  “It’s just that this guy came in this morning and sort of threw my whole day off balance.”

  Felicity stopped chewing. “What guy?”

  “I don’t know. Tall. Black. Gorgeous. And he smelled so dang good, Felicity. I can still smell him and just his scent alone had me trembling in my shoes.”

  Felicity chuckled. “Don’t tell me he had you all flustered…”

  Gianna grinned.

  “Oh, gosh. He had you all flustered,” Felicity said. “How many times have I told you to never let a man see how much you like him?”

  “It wasn’t that I liked him. I was just nervous.”

  She raised a brow. “Nervous?”

  “Felicity, you know me. I’m a nervous wreck without having to be around a hot guy, so you can about imagine how nervous I was in the presence of one. I couldn’t think straight—had a hard time focusing. At one point, I got hot flashes…thought I was going to faint.”

  Felicity chuckled. “You’re too funny. Ain’t no man gonna have me shook to the point that I feel like I’m going to faint.”

  “Yes, because you’re you. You’ve always been super confident. Me, on the other hand—I try to avoid men as much as possible so they don’t find out how weird I am. But this guy I couldn’t avoid. He was standing at the counter, staring at me…playing games with my head.”

  “What?” Felicity laughed.

  “He was playing games with me.”

  Felicity quirked up her lips. “How was he playing games with you?”

  “When he was ordering, it sounded like he said he wanted my cupcake instead of saying he wanted a cupcake and when I confronted him, he denied it.”

  “Did you really—?” Felicity shook her head.
>
  “Yeah, I called him out on it because that’s what he said.”

  “Maybe that’s what you heard. You know you have selective hearing. Or it could’ve been what you wished he’d said since he was giving you hot flashes and all.” Felicity laughed.

  “It’s not,” Gianna responded. “Besides, he was too hot for me. He looked like one of those rich, business types—you know—the kind who come to you looking for wives because they’re too busy to date.”

  Felicity folded her food container closed. “Gianna, why do you do that?”

  “What?”

  “Sell yourself short. You’re beautiful, Gianna.”

  “Girl, please.” Gianna waved her comment off. “I’m too busy hustling cupcakes to be beautiful.”

  “Whatever. You’re beautiful and the only reason you’ve never been involved with anyone is because you’ve been working like a slave and taking care of Gemma.”

  “Well, somebody has to do it. She is my sister.”

  “I know, and you’re right, but you have a life, too.”

  Gianna frowned. “What life? I’ve never had a life outside of Gemma. It has always been me taking care of her since mom bounced. Just me, and I refuse to abandon her just to have a life when she’s on the verge of losing hers.” Gianna blinked away the mist in her eyes and decided to change the subject. “Tell me what’s going on at Wedded Bliss these days.”

  “Girl, I cannot stand it when these guys sign up for the program and then get cold feet. There’s this one guy who came to see me a month ago. He still hasn’t looked through the profiles I sent him and when I called him out on it, he said he didn’t have time. And I’m racking my brain like, does this guy want a wife or not, and if he doesn’t want a wife, why did he sign up for my services? It’s so irritating.”

  “Maybe he changed his mind. That can happen, you know.”

  “Really? I charge five-hundred per application and after the application is approved, the deposit is five-thousand. Now granted, most of these men are wealthy, but fifty-five-hundred dollars is fifty-five-hundred dollars. Who has money to throw away like that?”