by Lacey Baker
“I’m calling about your offer. Look, I’m ah…” The fresh start would go a lot better if he could figure out how exactly to say “yes.” But then the look on Brooke’s face as she had talked about this competition earlier today flashed in his mind.
“Hello? Are you still there?” She was saying through the phone signaling his silence had stretched on.
He cleared his throat. “As difficult as it was for you to ask, it’s just as difficult for me to—”
“To accept my offer?” she prompted.
Adam nodded with relief. “Yes. That.”
“So you’ll do it?” Was that excitement he heard in her voice?
“Yes.”
“Great! In that case we’ll start tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.” She rattled off an address before hanging up and Adam stood for a few startled moments.
He was going to bake and build a giant gingerbread house. His smile spread as quickly as the ideas about how to construct this gingerbread house popped into his mind.
Now he was excited, too.
Christmas Village was an annual event in Philadelphia that ran from Thanksgiving to Christmas Eve in LOVE Park, located near City Hall. The predominantly outdoor event was fashioned to give the city a taste of an authentic German Christmas market. Dozens of vendor booths sold genuine European foods, ornaments, and arts and crafts from all over the world, while an indoor facility called the Marketplace had been constructed to keep Santa and his elves warm while picture-taking. In addition to the jolly old guy, there were more vendors inside, as well as a main exhibit stage.
Of course, no Christmas market would be complete without holiday sweets—cakes, cookies, brownies, gingerbread and candies. Those were Adam’s favorite parts. Each year, he came with Brooke and Jenny at least once throughout the month of December.
The gingerbread competition was being held inside the Marketplace on the main exhibit stage this year. Last year they’d held a themed Christmas tree decorating contest. A tree featuring superheroes had won, and Adam and Jenny had been split on whether they thought it had been the best. Brooke had been clear in the fact that she’d thought the pink themed tree was the hands-down winner.
Today, Adam wasn’t here as a spectator. He was a participant in the competition. The thought still made him a little nervous, but seeing the smile on Brooke’s face last night when he told her, and then again this morning when she’d happily finished cleaning her bedroom so they could get dressed and come down here, was the best reward.
They’d already walked the rows of outdoor vendor booths, visiting each one to ogle over the new and unique items on display. Now, they were inside where lovely aromas wafted through the air. The strong earthy scent of fresh pine from the stand with homemade wreaths and centerpieces. Sweet and tangy smelling candles in fragrances such as cranberry soufflé and evergreens. The nutty scent of roasting chestnuts and more.
There was also music: loud and cheerful Christmas carols piped through overhead speakers. These carols had the lyrics, which Adam actually preferred to the instrumental station Ray insisted they play in the bakery.
Adam held Brooke’s hand as they walked through, glancing at the stalls. Jenny was going to meet him here after her study group at the library. That would give Adam time to meet with Taylor to discuss the competition.
“Look! Candy!” Brooke could barely hold her excitement while pointing at the stand. That was just a prelude before she tugged him in that direction.
The display at this stand was festive and creative. Mason jars full of everything imaginable, from Christmas tree and Santa gummy bears to old-fashioned peppermints. There were lollipops, handmade chocolates, and what had really caught Brooke’s attention: gourmet candy apples.
“These look delicious!” If she hadn’t spoken the words, Adam would’ve still known she liked them by how wide her eyes opened the second she saw them.
“They look like you’ll be at the dentist every week for a month.”
Her excitement immediately ebbed. “I don’t like the dentist.”
Adam chuckled and nodded. “I know you don’t.” They moved on to a stall selling hot chocolate with mountains of whipped cream.
“Mine is better,” Brooke said a few minutes later after they’d ordered their drinks and were playing the same game they played each year—best whipped cream mustache.
“Are you kidding? Look how thick mine is.” He checked his out using the mirror function on his phone which Brooke was currently holding.
“Nah, I think mine is better because I even have a whipped cream beard,” she proudly announced and handed the phone back to him.
She wasn’t joking. He had no idea how she’d managed to get the whipped cream on her upper lip, the tip of her nose and her chin, but she looked absolutely adorable.
“Okay, you win this year.” He conceded and pulled a napkin out of his pocket to clean her face.
She accepted another napkin from him and returned the favor.
After finishing their drinks and dropping the cups into the trash can, they were on the move again. Brooke smiled at the huge Rudolph blow-up they passed, and Adam promised a visit to Santa later because the line to take pictures with the giant red-nosed reindeer was long already. She looked a little disappointed, but Adam immediately spotted something else he knew would catch her attention.
“Pies. Wanna go look?”
She nodded and they headed over to the stall. Once there, Adam had to lift Brooke up to see all the pies in the top of the display case.
“Oooooh those pies smell good,” Brooke said.
Adam chuckled and set her down. “They do, but you need to get some lunch before you have any sweets. I’ll tell Jenny to bring you back to the pie stand later.”
“Look, ice sculptures!” Brooke said as they walked a little further.
He didn’t mind being pulled through the crowd by his young daughter so that she could admire the sculpture of an eagle.
“It’s beautiful. Just like the one in Mom’s office.”
Brooke may have been amazed by the sculpture, but she would forever recall every detail she could about her mother.
“You’re right. She loved birds. That’s why she collected all those pictures and statues.” That were now in a box in their basement. Cheryl’s office was now an exercise room that Adam rarely used.
He looked up. “Oh, there’s Taylor!” She was setting up a red and white sign with “Ogilvy Architecture In Partnership with Ray’s Bakery” written in bold print. He and Brooke made their way through the crowd and came to a stop right behind where Taylor was standing.
“Hey,” he called to her.
She was just finishing with the sign and smiled when she turned to say, “Hi.”
Brooke had been right—she did have a pretty smile. Adam wasn’t sure he’d noticed that before, and figured he should probably brush it off now.
“You got that sign up quick,” he said.
Taylor nodded. “Our design team is pretty on the ball.”
From beside him, Brooke pointed at the sign. “Daddy why isn’t your name on it?”
“It’s fine, honey.” He’d noticed that too, but wasn’t going to bring it up. Ray’s Bakery was on the sign and that’s where he worked, so that was good enough.
“But, Daddy, you need the bublicity,” Brooke insisted. Taylor frowned as she looked from Brooke to Adam. He knew she probably didn’t understand what Brooke was trying to say. If Jenny didn’t talk about her plan for his new bakery in front of Brooke all the time, this wouldn’t be an issue.
“Oh! Publicity,” Taylor corrected.
Brooke’s head bobbed in agreement. “Right. Publicity. To help when he opens his own bakery.”
Taylor looked surprised while Adam begged for a hole to open up in the floor and swallow him. “Seriously? You’re ope
ning your own bakery?”
“My daughter has an ah, big imagination.” He hugged Brooke close to him. “But I already have a job.”
Thankfully at that moment, the mayor began to speak from a podium in the center of the exhibit stage. The podium had been painted a festive green and was decorated with red ribbon and cardboard peppermint candies.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, may I have your attention please?” he began. “As your mayor, I am thrilled to welcome you to our Christmas Marketplace and our first ever Giant Gingerbread Competition.”
All the people who’d gathered around at the sound of the mayor’s voice clapped, including Adam, Taylor and Brooke.
As the mayor continued, Adam noticed Taylor looking at a couple standing a few feet from them. “Friends of yours?”
Taylor shrugged. “More like a former colleague. Bradford, he used to work at the firm. You can say we have a friendly rivalry going on.”
Last time Adam had checked, rivalries were rarely friendly, but he kept that comment to himself.
“And Annabelle Renard, she’s the best pastry chef in the state,” he whispered to Taylor about the woman standing with Bradford. Annabelle caught them staring at her and nodded.
“Okay, truth is, she and I were talking about working together on this.”
That made sense. Taylor was obviously very good at her job or her bosses wouldn’t have let her be in this contest. She’d want to have the best pastry chef she could find working with her.
“But your colleague over there made a more convincing sales pitch.” What had that guy done to get Annabelle Renard?
Taylor pointed to another group standing a few feet away from Annabelle. “That team over there is a combination of students from the local culinary and high school. They’re being financed by one of the banks in the area.” She was leaning close to him, whispering as if they were working on some type of heist instead of a gingerbread contest.
“Amateurs,” he quipped.
She nodded her agreement. “And as for the final team, their sign’s not up, but I saw them bringing it in. They’re a church group that I heard have won regional baking contests. Their designer is an architecture student.”
Adam digested all that information. “Bradford/Renard is definitely the team to beat.”
“I agree,” she said seconds before the mayor continued.
“Now each team has twelve days to build their masterpiece for final judging on December 24th . So without further ado, let the Giant Gingerbread Competition begin!”
The mayor lifted a huge brass bell, ringing it with the crowd’s boisterous applause.
“Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us,” he told Taylor the minute the crowd disbursed.
“That you do,” came a quick reply.
They both turned to look at the smiling blonde-haired woman who approached. Taylor flashed a grin. “Linda, this is Adam, our baker. And Adam, this is my boss, Linda.”
Ah, the boss was here as well as an ex-coworker. Questions about the significance of these variables roamed through Adam’s mind, even though he figured it was none of his business.
“Nice to meet you,” he said.
“Likewise.” Linda turned her attention back to Taylor. “We’re counting on you. So think cutting-edge and be bold with your designs, and we can win this.” Linda pointed at Taylor and gave her a nod before leaving.
“No pressure, right?” Adam asked when Linda was gone.
“Tell me about it,” Taylor replied with a huff. “Okay. Let’s get started.”
“Sure. ” He pulled out his phone that had just vibrated. “Just let me drop Brooke off and I’ll meet you, say over by the food court?”
Taylor nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’ll go find us a table. It was nice seeing you again, Brooke.”
“Nice seeing you too, Ms. Taylor,” Brooke replied and instead of shaking her hand like she’d done at the bakery, Brooke leaned in to give Taylor a quick hug. A quick tug of intrigue hit him as Taylor grinned down at Brooke.
“Come on, Brooke, we have to get going.” He held his hand out to take his daughter’s and told Taylor, “I’ll be over in a few minutes.”
Adam brought Brooke to Jenny and hurried to meet up with Taylor again. Now that he’d seen Annabelle Renard was in the competition, he was anxious to get to work. How great would it be if he could boast about beating the Annabelle Renard in a competition? Not that he knew who he would boast to. Just because he’d decided to do this didn’t mean he was ready to re-visit the idea of opening his own bakery.
Taylor was already sitting at a small table on the edge of the food court where it was a little quieter. She had her plans spread out on the table and a pencil in hand as he approached. She looked like a woman about her business, which at the moment was this gingerbread contest.
Adam had thought about her a lot the night before. That was new to him, and he wasn’t ready to try and figure out why it was this woman and this time. Getting to work made more sense than overthinking this, so he sat at the table beside her.
She barely looked up at him but spoke as she continued making notations at the bottom of the page. It was another large sheet of paper like the one she’d fussed at him for getting icing on.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Plans for our gingerbread house.” Her tone coupled with the look she finally gave him indicated she thought that was self-explanatory.
He only glanced briefly at what was drawn on the paper. “I assumed the design was something we would come up with together.”
He’d had some ideas and was expecting to run them by her to see how she felt about them. And now that he’d seen their competition, he’d already begun thinking of ways they could possibly go in order to win. He hadn’t expected her to come up with a complete plan on her own.
“Well, I am a professional architect. I think I know what I’m doing.”
So they were back to her brisk tone again? This sounded like the Taylor he’d first met at Ogilvy, not the one who’d come to Ray’s practically begging for his help. But her company was the one entered in the contest, so Adam figured he should at least look at what she had planned. He glanced down at the paper and immediately frowned.
“Really? Because that house doesn’t look very Christmassy.” Looking at her work didn’t mean he planned to sugarcoat how he felt about it.
She frowned. “Not Christmassy? What is that supposed to mean?”
Good. Maybe she was at least open to his explanations. “Well, it’s so modern. It looks like a twenty-first century gingerbread condo. I had some thoughts on things we could do to give a new flair to an old theme.” He was all set to expound on that idea when she tapped the pencil on the paper.
They both looked down at the plans this time, and Adam hoped that meant she was at least considering what he’d said. That hope was quickly dashed as she shook her head. “Well, you heard my boss. It needs to be sophisticated. Cutting-edge.” Those words seemed to cheer her up as she said them with a toss of her head.
“Christmas isn’t about cutting-edge. Christmas is about warmth and tradition.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Thank you for your input. But I think there’s been a little misunderstanding. In a construction project, an architect oversees all creative choices.”
“And in a baking project, typically the head chef is in charge.” Adam pointed to her plans because he had some expertise to be considered as well.
“Of building materials,” she said.
If he was willing to give up any spare time he had to work on this project, the least he could expect to receive was a little fun and the opportunity to create something.
“Look, all day long I’m stuck making blueberry muffins. Okay? My fingers are stained blue. This is my chance to get out and do something artistic.” Something
that might even get noticed.
Taylor was not persuaded.
“Ok, how ‘bout you stay out of design decisions and help with building materials.”
“I need to be involved with design decisions so I can advise on which gingerbread to use for the building material,” he countered.
“How ‘bout we agree to disagree. But at least get started in the meantime.”
“Are you always this stubborn?” he asked, frustration ebbing out the excitement he’d been feeling when he first sat down at the table.
“I was going to say the same of you.”
So she wasn’t budging on her design, and he wasn’t the type to argue over things he couldn’t change. Besides, this was her company’s project, and he was just here to show Brooke he wasn’t afraid to have a little fun. “Fine. But we better head back. We gotta start baking. First step is coming up with a gingerbread dense enough not to crumble, and that’s going to take some experimentation.”
“Great idea,” she said and seemed to relax into his suggestion.
She was definitely intense about her work and Adam really couldn’t blame her. He was the same way about his baking.
“So let’s go,” he told her.
For the first time since they’d started this conversation Taylor looked puzzled. “Let’s?” she asked with an arched brow.
“Didn’t you just agree to be my baking assistant?”
She didn’t answer and he knew she was thinking that she’d been tricked into that agreement—which she definitely had, but it served her right for being so obstinate.
“Fine. I’ll go back to the bakery with you, but these plans are final.”
“We’re not going back to the bakery. We’re going to my house to do some trial runs.”
“Oh. Is that why you want to open your own bakery? Because you’re not allowed to do things like this at Ray’s?”
He’d been doing so well taking this conversation in the direction he wanted it to go. He hadn’t expected this question.
