by Aidan Wayne
Not So Cookie Cutter
by
Aidan Wayne
© Aidan Wayne 2019
All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author and where permitted by law. Reviewers may quote brief passages in a review.
Cover art: Aidan Wayne
Jerrell has never been worth more than a fling.
Other guys tend to treat him like a piece of meat they’re entitled to, and Jerrell has given up on hoping for something more. Instead he keeps his head down and doesn’t engage. He loves his job as second baker at a cafe. His work is enough for him.
When Rafi, a regular customer, expresses an interest in Jerrell, Jerrell can’t believe it at first. Rafi is stunning, put together, kind, and acts as though Jerrell is someone worth loving.
But is Rafi too good to be true?
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
About the Author
Excerpt: His Two Leading Men
More by Aidan Wayne
Chapter One
“Jerrell!” Melody poked her head into the kitchens, where Jerrell was busy frosting the cooled eclairs. “You’re the one making the cheesecakes this week, right?”
Jerrell looked up. “Uh, yeah. Since Mary’s still sick, she asked yesterday if I could make them. Did someone complain? I followed the recipes exactly.”
“Mm-hm.” Melody’s lips quirked. “Except for the pumpkin one. Since that’s not one we usually sell.”
Jerrell ducked his head and went back to frosting eclairs. “I just made the one,” he said, concentrating on the eclairs so he didn’t have to look at Melody. Mary ran the bakery, but Melody ran the business. “Mary’s been letting me try my own recipes in the shop. We had extra pumpkin puree. It couldn’t have been that bad.”
She clucked her tongue, hands on her hips. “It wasn’t. We’ve got someone outside who wants to pay his compliments personal, so clean yourself up and come on out. Front corner table, the guy sitting by himself.”
Jerrell looked up again, and she snickered at whatever face he was making. “You heard me. Go. Leave the icing on your cheek. It’s a good look. Says you’ve been keeping busy.” Jerrell instantly threw up a hand to rub at his cheek. Melody snickered again and tilted her head out the door before moving towards it herself. “You’ve got three seconds,” she called over her shoulder.
Jerrell quickly set down the bag of icing, and looked over his torso and arms. Not completely clean, but he’d been working since four in the morning and it was almost eleven now. He straightened his chef’s hat and left the kitchen, quickly zeroing in on the front corner table. They weren’t too full yet, what with it being a couple hours after the morning rush and just the very beginning of the lunch rush, so it was pretty easy to find the–
Whoa.
Whoa, hot guy.
Light brown skin, broad shoulders accented by a suit jacket. Older, with thick black hair threaded with just a touch of grey and the barest hint of lines on a face that looked sculpted. Exactly Jerrell’s type, and exactly the sort of person he’d never in a million years approach for any reason.
Alone.
At the front corner table.
Okay. Okay, cool, sure, whatever.
Jerrell walked over with what he hoped was a polite smile that didn’t make him look as if he wanted to run away. “Hi? Uh, I’m the baker. Melody said you wanted to speak with me?”
The man looked at him, surprised. “Hello there.” Just the barest hint of an accent. Indian? “Where’s Mary?”
Oh. He knew Mary? Was he a regular? “Mary’s out sick. Can’t, you know, can’t work in a kitchen if you’ve got a bug.” The guy kept on looking at him, and Jerrell started to sweat. “I’m second baker normally. Just filling in on all fronts til she’s feeling better.”
The man blinked and then smiled, blinding white teeth against warm brown skin. He held out his hand. “Good to meet you,” he said. “I’m Rafi.”
“Uh.” Jerrell shook the hand. “Jerrell. Hey.”
“I’m here often, since this cafe is close to where I work,” Rafi said. “I’ve tried near everything on the menu that I thought looked interesting. The pumpkin cheesecake was divine. And if Mary’s out, that means it was all you, wasn’t it? Thank you.”
Divine? “Oh, good.” Jerrell wasn’t sure what else to say. “I’m glad you liked it. I was playing around with a new recipe.”
Rafi smiled again. Winningly. Man, this wasn’t even fair. “Well, I’m certainly glad you did. Will it be a regular addition to the menu?”
“Maybe? It, uh, it depends on Mary. I’m just doing the cheesecakes until she gets back.”
“I see. I’ll have to follow up on it.” Rafi glanced over at the counter, and then back at Jerrell. “It’s lucky they have you to fill in. You’re clearly good at what you do.” He grinned. “Creative too.”
Jerrell’s cheeks went hot. He wasn’t all that used to compliments–and he didn’t interact with customers all that often. Mary was head baker. If someone wanted to pay a compliment, she was the one who went out. “I–thanks.” He clasped his hands behind his back, at-ease stance so he wouldn’t cross his arms. He’d been told enough times that it made him look like a thug, so he tried to avoid doing it. “It’s always nice to be told someone likes what I make.”
“Do you have a specialty here?”
“Sorry?”
“You said that Mary normally makes the cheesecakes. But I’m assuming that means you tend to gravitate toward certain items too. I’m wondering what else of yours I’ve had.” The grin turned a little mischievous. “I’ve tried quite a lot of the menu. Give me something else to compliment.”
“I-” Jerrell swallowed. Okay, calm down. That could have been interpreted as a little flirty, but Jerrell also found Rafi ridiculously hot and was probably projecting. It was way more likely that Rafi was just being friendly, especially if he was a regular. “I don’t know if you like macarons, but those are always mine. Mary hates making them.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rafi said. He didn’t say anything else, which Jerrell figured was enough of a dismissal that he could make a not-at-all hasty exit back to the kitchen. The safe, quiet kitchen, where there were no distressingly hot older men with endearing accents smiling at him.
He had almost, almost gotten back into the zone of icing eclairs when Melody burst into the kitchen again. “Jerrell.”
Uh-oh. That was a serious voice. He looked up. “What’d I do wrong?”
“Maybe nothin’. What’d you say to the Doc?”
“The Doc?”
“Dr. Karunakaran?”
“Doctor who?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Rafi! You say anything bad?”
“What? I–no.” Jerrell wracked his brain trying to think where he could have possibly misstepped. “He just complimented my cheesecake. I said thanks.”
“That’s it?” Melody tilted her head. “‘Cause I was watching you, and his face fell right after you took off. Rafi’s a nice guy and a great customer–”
“He just wanted to know if the pumpkin was gonna be a regular menu item,” Jerrell interrupted desperately, holding up his hands. Melody could get upset at the drop of a hat, but she was usually reasonable about why. If he could stop her before she got too worked up... “And I said it depended on what you and Mary thought.”
Melody put her hands on her hips. “And you said nothing about his chair?”
Jerrell stared at her, bewildered. “Chair? Was I supposed be paying attention to what he was sitting in?” Melody had the place decorated with elegant, mismatched pieces. The cafe was often touted as comfortable but upscale. But Jerrell barely left the kitchen as it was. He certainly didn’t pay attention to which chair a customer was using. Why would he even need to?
Melody’s mouth snapped shut and then she narrowed her eyes, looking him over like she was trying to catch him out in a lie. Jerrell tried to look as innocent as he could. Hard to do at six foot two and solid, but it helped that he genuinely had no idea what was going on. After a few seconds of her staring at him, he asked, “Can I… get back to making cake now?”
Melody shifted her weight and kept looking at him, but her expression was more calculating than mad now, which was at least some improvement. “What’d you think of him?”
“Of Dr. Karunana… what did you say his name was?”
Her lips quirked. “Dr. Karunakaran, but if he introduced himself as Rafi, you can call him Rafi. What’d you think of him?”
Nothing fit for polite company, that was for sure. “Um, nice? Likes pumpkin cheesecake? Jesus, Melody, don’t tell me to talk to customers if you think I’m gonna mess up this bad.” He worked up his courage and then added, “I didn’t even do anything wrong.”
“Guess you didn’t.” She abruptly grinned at him, big and wide and maybe a little scary, after all the anger. “Nevermind honey, I jumped to conclusions. You get back to work.”
“Thanks.” He bent back down over the eclairs as Melody left the kitchen, relieved to be able to return to concentrating on them.
He finished the last of the batch, then picked up the tray to carry to the front counter, checking the time as he loaded them in. Good, after this he could take out the last of the cupcakes to get them frosted. Just in time; the bakery was filling up with the lunch rush.
Lindsay, in between plating an order for a customer, called to him as he was turning back to the kitchen. “Hey, Jerrell!”
“Yeah?”
“Melody wants two more pumpkin cheesecakes for tomorrow. We sold out of it crazy fast.”
“Got it.” He headed back into the kitchen, pulling the racks of chocolate cupcakes out of the cooler and got started putting together the banana cream frosting for them while trying to do the math in his head. Two more cheesecakes for tomorrow morning was really short notice. It might be better to wait til tomorrow to make them, but if he did, they wouldn’t have the night to properly chill.
No, he’d have to get them done before he left for today. He’d just stay a little later. Maybe he could tweak a couple of things and alter the cool-down time needed in the oven?
“Jerrell,” Melody said, poking her head into the back, “Where are my banana fudge delights?”
Jerrell pushed the tray he’d finished frosting forward, without breaking rhythm in frosting the second tray. Yeah, yeah, if he altered the filling a little and shortened the oven time, he’d probably be alright. Hopefully it wouldn’t change the texture too much.
He finished the cupcakes, made a trip to change the temperature on his second oven, and grabbed the ingredients to whip up the cheesecakes he needed. He put them together as fast as he could, threw them in the oven, then got back to cupcakes. He let himself sink into the mindset of pulling cupcakes out of the cooler and making frosting, pausing his rhythm only to pour the cheesecake batter into crusts when his timer went off, and again to adjust the oven temperature twenty minutes later. Then he just ignored them until his shift was over, taking them out as the last thing he did for the day.
He eyed the two cheesecakes. They looked fine, but he was positive the texture was going to be different. Not necessarily in a bad way, but definitely different. He sighed. Nothing he could do about it now. He stuffed them in the cooler and went to wash up. He’d talk to Melody tomorrow morning about giving him more notice, next time.
Jerrell hung up his apron and went to the front to tell Melody that he was taking off. He took an extra moment to glance over at the front table Rafi had been sitting at. There were two women there now, chatting over coffee and baked goods. The chairs were padded floral things, with elegant curved backs. Pretty enough, Jerrell guessed, for chairs.
But yeah, he wasn’t surprised he hadn’t noticed them. He’d been too busy getting caught up in Rafi’s smile.
Chapter Two
Jerrell was putting batches of scones into the oven when Lindsay ducked into the kitchen. “Jerrell, you got a minute? Customer wants to talk to you.”
“What?” Jerrell set his timer and wiped his hands on his apron. “Why?”
She shrugged. “He was smiling, so probably he doesn’t wanna throw his drink in your face.” Lindsay used to wait tables. “Anyway, front corner table, guy sitting by himself. Indian.”
He froze. “Wait, Rafi?”
Lindsay grinned. “Oh, okay, you do know him! He’s one of our regulars, but you’re always back here, so I wasn’t sure. Yeah, it’s the Doc. Just go on over when you’ve got a sec. He like, just got his order, so he’ll be here for a while.”
“Got it.” She left him, and Jerrell surveyed where he was. The last of the scones were in the oven, timer ticking down, brownies were in the cooler, tiramisu was done and plated… he was right on schedule. Okay. He washed his hands again, looked despairingly at his apron, and left the safe confines of his kitchen to go see what “the Doc” wanted.
He was at the same table again, wearing a different suit, and looked just as stupid-perfect as yesterday. He smiled when he saw Jerrell coming over.
“Good morning, Jerrell,” he said, nodding at him.
Rafi remembered his name? “Hi. I mean, uh, morning.” Right, it was only about eleven. Still morning. “You wanted to see me?”
“I did, yes.” But he was still smiling, so hopefully this wasn’t bad? Rafi looked up at him. “I was just wondering if you’d changed the recipe on the pumpkin cheesecake?”
“Changed the…? Oh! Oh, yeah.” Jerrell put his hands behind his back. “Yeah, a little. Was it not as good today? I’m sorry. I had to make more in a shorter time, so I adjusted a few things and couldn’t rest them in the oven as long and, uh.” Rafi probably didn’t care. “Uh. Sorry. They’ll be back to the old recipe next time, if there’s a next time.”
Rafi held up his hand. “No, no, it’s not bad at all. Just different. The texture is a bit more mousse-like. So I was wondering if something had been changed.”
Jerrell winced. He knew it. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
Rafi chuckled. “It’s still very good. Perhaps you will continue to make both pumpkin cheesecake and pumpkin mousse.”
Huh. There was a thought. The cafe didn’t serve a variety of mousse. His chocolate mousse cups were fairly popular, but he hadn’t tried other flavors, unless as topping for a special item. But it was easy enough to make, as long as it chilled properly, and it was pumpkin season, after all. He’d ask Melody. Maybe he could try some for tomorrow. And it would take way less time than cheesecake. Pumpkin-cheesecake inspired mousse, though? Or trifle cups! With a graham cracker crumble?
“Did I lose you?” Rafi asked, sounding amused.
Jerrell jerked back into reality from his side trip into pastry-land. “Sorry. I was just thinking–” Rafi didn’t need to hear pastry-land babble. He switched gears. “I’m sorry the cheesecake isn’t right, but it’ll be back to normal next time.” Though Melody had told him not to make a pumpkin cheesecake for tomorrow. But that meant a lack of a pumpkin product, and Jerrell was really wanting to try the trifle. I
f he got permission from Melody to make it… mousse took a couple hours to set so that’d be a project for tomorrow anyway, but–
“Jerrell?”
“Sorry!” Jerrell tugged at his apron, self-conscious. He tended to hyper focus when it came to certain subjects, and to the outside eye that looked a lot like he couldn’t pay attention worth shit. Rafi was already so far out of his league it wasn’t funny. Jerrell didn’t need to further prove the point.
Rafi shook his head. “No worries. I’m sure I’m keeping you from your work. I was just curious.” He smiled ruefully. “I was planning to get some macarons, but when I saw the cheesecake I had to get it again, since you said it was going to be a limited item.”
“Oh.” Great. So Rafi’d gotten the cheesecake specifically because it might not be made again, and Jerrell hadn’t even used the same recipe. “I’m, uh, I’m really sorry it wasn’t right, then.”
“It was delicious, even if it was different.” Rafi corrected. “You did a good job.”
Jerrell shifted, awkward. It was weird to have something he’d done wrong turned around into a positive. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Rafi said. His eyes flicked up and down, almost like he was looking Jerrell over. Then he cleared his throat. “Now, I’m sure I’m keeping you from your work. I don’t want to hold you hostage.”
“I don’t mind,” Jerrell said before he cursed himself. Stupid. “I mean, it’s okay. It’s fine.” Shut up, Jerrell. “Though, um, yeah, I should get back to work.”
“Right,” Rafi said, looking thoughtful. “Have a good day. Thank you for brightening mine.”
“N-no problem,” Jerrell managed. Then he retreated back to his kitchen before he could make more of a fool of himself.
In between baking for the rest of the day, Jerrell got approval to try his pumpkin trifle idea, though Melody stuck with the decision to table more cheesecake for the moment.
“We’ve got plenty of the rest of our flavors,” she said. “And I don’t want to overload people with pumpkin, even if it’s September. We’ll see how sales go. If the trifle is a hit, great. If customers request the pumpkin cheesecake, even better. It’ll give us an idea for the menu next week.”
