by Fiona Grace
“Teddy, tell her!” Piper squealed excitedly.
“Tell me what?” Ali asked. “What is it? What’s happened?”
Teddy needed no further prompting. He took a deep breath. “So you know that indie movie I’m in…”
“Street Walkers,” Ali replied with a nod. “As if I could forget.” He’d roped her into reading lines with him, and the script in Ali’s opinion was pompously poetic and verging on ludicrous. But it wasn’t her place to judge. The independent, small budget film was going to put Teddy’s face on the big screen for the first time ever. Whether it was terribly written or not was beside the point.
“Welllllll,” Teddy said, stretching the moment in order to eke out as much attention as physically possible, as he annoyingly had the habit of doing. “My role’s been expanded. The director liked me so much he asked the screenwriters to add extra scenes for me.”
Ali gasped. Piper started jumping up and down, clapping like a hummingbird.
“Teddy!” Ali said, offering both her hands for a high ten. “That’s great! I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks,” Teddy replied, high-tenning her. “I’m totally going to be famous,” he added, and he mimed a hair flip.
Ali managed to muster a smile for her brother’s success. But in reality, the failed trip to Desert View had immediately resurfaced, and was now playing on her mind.
Teddy narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong? You aren’t as ebullient as I was anticipating.”
Ali sighed. Part of the problem of having such a strong bond with older brother was his ability to pick up on the smallest of her non-verbal cues. Sometimes, it felt like Teddy could read her mind, or at the very least her emotions. Really, he could give Lavinia a run for her money. There could never be secrets between them.
“I said I was proud of you,” she tried, her voice meek.
Teddy folded his arms and gave her a stern look. “What is it? What’s going on? Is it Nate? Please don’t tell me you’re jealous he has a new girlfriend. Jealousy is so last season.”
Ali scoffed. “Jealous? Of Carys? Please.”
“Then what is it?” Teddy prompted.
He was never one to let things go. Ali admitted defeat with a weary exhalation. She sank into the closest chair and dropped her heavy head into her hands.
“It’s Dad,” she said.
Teddy dropped into the seat opposite her. “Dad?”
Ali nodded. A frown had made its way onto her brow as soon as she’d started speaking, and she attempted to knead it away with her fingers to no avail. It was stubbornly refusing to budge.
From behind the counter, Piper suddenly gasped. “Oh my God, Ali, I totally forgot! Like between that crazy cookie-eating man and Maria and the wood-fired pizza oven thing and then Teddy’s news it literally slipped my mind.”
She rushed out from behind the counter, across the bakery floor, and took the third seat at the small, round bistro table. She reached for Ali’s hands across the table. A look of sympathy appeared on her pretty features.
“What happened?” Teddy asked. “You found a lead?”
Ali nodded, but found herself too tongue-tied to say more. She felt very exposed with the two gregarious personalities staring at her like that and she squirmed awkwardly in her seat. It had already been a really long day, and now if Emilio’s plan worked out it wasn’t even going to end at lock-up because she’d have to bake a gazillion hot dog buns for Mad Frank. She wondered sometimes how she got herself into these predicaments.
“Ali,” Teddy said, firmly. “Tell me what happened.”
The sternness of his tone snapped her from her ruminations. This was just as stressful for him as it was for her, even if he was approaching it from the opposite direction.
“Mom sent me some letters,” Ali said. “From Dad. I used the postal stamps to work out where he was.”
“I helped,” Piper added, beaming proudly.
“I see,” came Teddy’s tight-lipped reply.
Ali couldn’t tell whether he was annoyed she’d followed a lead without telling him, or if it was more. If he was wondering whether there was a similar pile of letters addressed to him and hidden away at their mother’s house.
“And?” Teddy asked, before she had the chance to probe him.
“I tracked him to an RV park in the Mojave Desert.”
“It’s on Route 66,” Piper interrupted. “Like in the Grapes of Wrath.”
“But he wasn’t there,” Ali finished.
Piper deflated like this was a huge letdown. “Oh, Ali.”
“Another dead end?” Teddy asked.
“Not quite. He does live there. Sometimes. But he’s like a wandering nomad. He ups and leaves whenever the urge takes him. I guess that’s the benefit of living in a mobile home.”
“And having no pesky family ties holding you down,” Teddy interrupted in his characteristic scathing sarcasm. “Oh wait…”
Ali grimaced. “Anyway, I gave my contact info to his banjo player neighbor who said he’d make sure he got it but I really don’t have a huge amount of faith it will actually reach him.”
Teddy paused as if letting the new information sink in, then gave a single-shoulder shrug. “Oh well.”
Ali’s already deeply etched frown deepened further. “Oh well?”
“I mean, you gave it your best shot,” he added. “Life goes on.”
She’d expected Piper to say something thoughtless, but Teddy? Though Ali knew he had no personal investment in their father being found, he was supposed to at least care for her sake. For him to be so overly nonchalant about the crushing disappointment she’d just been dealt made her feel even worse.
“Is that all you’ve got?” she asked.
Teddy huffed and waved a flippant hand in her face. “Less of that, thank you. You’ve taken some decisive action and left the ball in his court, and now it’s time to live your life. That’s all.” He rested his chin on his fist. “Now, who wants to hear more about my role?”
“Ohh! Me!” Piper said, wide-eyed and eager.
Hurt, Ali reeled back. Her back thudded against the hardwood of her chair’s backrest. Teddy was only concerned about himself. His good news was more important than her misfortune, and she couldn’t help but feel deeply hurt by how quickly he’d brushed her aside. He and Piper could be a frustrating pair when they were together. Two aspiring actors who quickly forgot the real world existed, who behaved like moths to a flame whenever it came to anything even remotely related to their Hollywood aspirations.
She stood and looked down at Piper and Teddy. They’d already descended into excited chatter, talking over one another in rapid, excited voices and didn’t even notice her.
She headed for the counter. She’d rather occupy herself with work than sit there feeling invisible while Piper and Teddy talked about scripts and directors and Kraft catering.
But when she reached the display cabinet, Ali discovered it was almost empty. Inside was one plain cupcake, half a broken cookie, and a bunch of crumbs. Which meant Piper hadn’t baked anything after the competitive eater had left the store that morning.
“Um… Piper,” Ali called back across the bakery floor. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Piper glanced over. “Oh, you mean the baking? Yeah, I figured that since there was a wood-fired pizza oven stuck in the door there wasn’t much point in baking anything because no one could get around it to buy them anyway. After that, Teddy came in, and then I texted you, and then you came in, and, well you probably remember the rest.”
Ali ground her teeth. “Yes, thank you, Piper, I can remember what happened five minutes ago,” she muttered with an exasperated shake of the head.
She grabbed an apron off the hook and was about to head into the kitchen to bury her woes in baking when the bell above the door tinkled. She turned back to see a young, slim, short Asian woman enter the bakery.
“Good afternoon,” Ali said, turning back and slinging the apron over her head. Her fi
ngers fiddled with the strings. “Can I help?”
The woman approached the counter with poise and elegance in her step. She had straight dark hair that hung in a neat long bob an inch below her jawline. Her smile was so bright and wide even her dark brown eyes smiled.
“Hi!” she said. “I’m really sorry to bother you. I know it’s probably a bit late in the day but I was wondering if you might still have thirty cupcakes I could buy?”
Ali gestured to the empty display. “Not right now. I’d be very happy to make a fresh batch for you, but there’ll be a ten-minute wait.”
“Ten minutes is fine,” the woman said, flapping her hand as if waving away any inconvenience. “Thanks for being so accommodating.”
“No problem,” Ali said, a little surprised by someone being so polite. She loved her work and her customers but they were usually a bit more demanding. “Are you having a party?”
“No, I’m a competitive eater,” the woman replied.
Ali’s eyes widened. She couldn’t stop herself from gazing the woman up and down from head to toe. How could someone so slight be a competitive eater?
“Are you really?” Ali asked, astonished.
The woman laughed. “I know. No one believes me when I tell them. I don’t look like your average eater. But it’s a skill like any other, and I do lots of things to keep my metabolism in super shape. To put it simply, if I’m not eating, I’m in spin class!”
She laughed musically, and her laugh was so infectious Ali found herself laughing along with her.
“Anyway, I wanted to acclimate before the contest and heard on the grapevine this was the place to go.”
“Bottomless Pit Bob’s been singing my praises?” Ali asked.
“Yes, he has!” the woman replied, laughing. “So you’ve heard of Mad Frank?”
“As of today,” Ali confessed. “I have to admit I had no idea there was such a thing as competitive eating before. But you’re the second competitor to come in today, so I’m getting educated.”
The woman laughed. “It’s an insider trick.” She tapped her nose, conspiratorial. “If you eat sweet things, the brain interprets a blood sugar crash as hunger. Then when a huge plate of greasy hot dogs is plonked in front of your face, devouring them comes more naturally.”
Ali smiled. She didn’t really know where to begin with the woman. She was so friendly and nice, and super polite. She was literally the opposite of what Ali would have expected from a competitive eater.
“Well, I’d be honored to have you condition at my bakery,” she said. “Will you be able to wait ten minutes?”
“Yes. I can occupy myself for ten minutes,” the woman replied. “I’m Eunbi, by the way.”
“Queen Eunbi Choi,” Ali said, recalling the name on the flyer.
“The very same,” Eunbi replied, taking a courtesy. “And you are?”
“I’m Ali.” She pointed at the chalkboard behind her, where the bakery’s name, Seaside Sweets, was written in Delaney’s pretty cursive script. “Ali Sweet.”
Eunbi clapped her hands together, looking delighted. “Ali Sweet. That would make a good competitive eater’s stage name!”
Ali chuckled. “I think I’ll stay on the food preparation side of things rather than the eating side!”
She headed off to the kitchen, eager to cook a batch of cupcakes for the interesting young woman. It was only once she got inside that she discovered the pantry was empty. There was nothing left. No ingredients. It appeared Bottomless Pit Bob had eaten her out of house and home! And of course, Piper had completely neglected to do anything about it.
Ali rushed back to the bakery floor.
“I’m so sorry,” she gushed to Eunbi. “I appear to have run out of some ingredients.” She flashed a pointed glare at Piper, who responded with an apologetic grimace. “But how about we head next door? My neighbor is moving abroad and is closing up shop. He’s desperate to make as much money as he possibly can before he leaves. I bet he’d happily make you some sweet calzones, if that fits the bill?”
“Worth a shot,” Eunbi replied genially.
Ali led Eunbi out of her bakery and next door to Emilio’s Pizzeria to explain the situation. It was a bit of a shock as she walked inside to see how much he had already packed up. The artwork had been removed from the walls, as had the chalkboard menu, the spice and condiment holders, and the cutlery station. Most of the tables had been pushed to the side, with the chairs arranged upside down on top of them. Right in the middle of the floor stood the wood-fired pizza oven, plonked haphazardly.
“Oh,” Eunbi said, a little taken aback as she maneuvered herself around it. “Are you sure there’ll even be anything left in the pantry? Seems like this place is pretty much packed up.”
“Yes, I’m pretty sure,” Ali replied, thinking of his busy evening of cooking for the competition ahead, something he would be unable to do without ingredients or a functioning kitchen.
Just then, Emilio’s voice came from the back room. “Ali? Is that you?”
“Yup!”
His face appeared at the kitchen hatch. “Aha! I thought I recognized your voice. I have good news…” He paused as his eyes fell to Eunbi. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.”
“This is Eunbi,” Ali told him. “Queen Eunbi Choi. One of the competitive eaters in Mad Frank’s competition. She wanted to do some conditioning in advance of the contest but I’ve already been eaten out of house and home by the last contestant. I was just wondering if you might be able to make some sweet calzones?”
“Actually, that’s what I wanted to tell you,” Emilio said. “I’m all out too. We’ll have to go to the Cash ’n’ Carry in advance of our big baking gig.”
“Wait…” Ali said, as a smile spread across Emilio’s face. “You got us in?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I did! You, me, and Seth are now the official chefs of Mad Frank’s. I’ve been assured Seaside Sweets and Best Hot Dogs will have their logos on proud display on the banner.”
“You’re going to be one of the official chefs?” Eunbi asked Ali, looking surprised. “What a crazy coincidence!”
Ali nodded. She’d half expected Emilio’s plan to fall apart. Now she’d have to find a way to stay awake all night. It was going to be a very strange, busy evening. But it was potentially just what Ali needed right now to distract her from all the shenanigans surrounding her father and Teddy’s lackluster attempt to comfort her. “Does Seth know?” Ali asked, feeling a little flame of excitement in her stomach for the evening ahead.
“I’m just about to call him,” Emilio said.
Eunbi looked slightly self-conscious. “I should go. You guys clearly have lots to do.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you,” Ali said. “There’s another cookie shop at the other end of the boardwalk you can try. It’s called Kookies, with a K.”
Eunbi smiled. “Thanks. I’ll try there.”
“I’ll be rooting for you tomorrow!”
She nodded her head respectfully, then backed away out of the pizzeria.
As soon as she was gone, Emilio turned to face Ali and rubbed his hands together.
“Let’s go get Seth!” he exclaimed. “We’ve got work to do!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ali looked down at the laminated recipe card provided by Mad Frank’s crew. The bun recipe was basic to say the least, and she couldn’t help but feel slightly uninspired by the task that lay ahead. This was really just grunt work, and it reminded her of her college days working as a kitchen chef chopping onions. Still, if the advertising slot was as good as Emilio had made it out to be, and he would get together the money he needed to move to Italy, then it was worth it. Besides, it could be fun hanging out all night with Seth and Emilio. They were always all so busy with their business there often wasn’t much time left for socializing.
“Where’s Piper?” Seth asked as he hauled a sack of flour into the bakery’s kitchen.
They’d stocke
d up at the Cash ’n’ Carry using Emilio’s van, buying the listed ingredients for the contest. Ali wouldn’t dream of using such inferior ingredients in her own baked goods, but she had to accept these buns weren’t exactly being used for their taste. They just had to slide easily down the gullet.
“I gave her the night off,” Ali explained. “She’s got her head in the clouds at the moment. I could do with a bit of a break from her.”
“Oof,” Seth said. “Must be something in the water.”
Ali laughed. “What makes you say that?”
“Carys,” Seth said, rolling her eyes. “She’s suddenly become all ditzy. I’ve no idea what’s gotten into her.”
“I do…” Ali said, recalling the awkward moment she’d bumped into Nate and Carys on the promenade. “Carys has a boyfriend.”
“Ohhhh?” Seth exclaimed, like it all suddenly made sense. “I guess you worked that out with your womanly intuition, huh?”
Ali laughed. “Not quite. I know because her new boyfriend is Nate.”
Seth froze on the spot. He looked stunned. His dark eyebrows inched slowly together with astonishment. “But I thought…Aren’t you and Nate… Does that mean…”
Ali shook her head. “Nate and I broke up. If you can even call it that. We were never really ever together. After… you know… everything that happened… with us…” She felt her ears heat up with embarrassment as she recalled the terrible moment both men had confronted her in a restaurant, in front of an audience of diners. “We just decided we’d be better off as friends. So yeah. That’s that.”
The glint in Seth’s eye did not go unnoticed by Ali. He’d always been very upfront about his affections toward her. It was only her on-off thing with Nate that had turned him off in the first place. But even now that she’d confirmed to him that there was nothing happening with Nate, she still felt like the ship with Seth had sailed. And anyway, now was not the time to be thinking about rekindling things with Seth. Not when they had a long evening of cooking stretching ahead of them.
“Nate and Carys,” Seth said, tapping his chin ponderously. “I can’t see those two working out. Can you?”
