Cupcake (The Fluffy Cupcake Book 1)

by Katie Mettner

  “You get that. I’ll order a pizza. I’m feeling prosecco and Northwoods Pizza with pepperoni and green olives.”

  I gave her the thumbs-up and headed back to the kitchen for the bottle of wine and another glass. Suddenly, I was glad for the unexpected company. The loneliness building deep inside my soul was getting out of control, and I spent too much time at the bakery just to avoid being at home alone. It wasn’t healthy, but at the same time, I didn’t want to bother my friend with my issues all the time. Lord knows I have enough of them, and she had dealt with them enough over the years.

  I had lived with Amber and her family for the last three years of high school. As a foster kid, I moved around a lot, but the one constant in my life had been Amber and her family. If I hadn’t found that stability during the last few years of my teen life, I might not be as successful as I am today. Amber was like a sister to me, and I knew she’d listen, but I felt like at almost thirty I should be able to be alone for more than a few hours without feeling that sinking sense of depression. Lately, that was all I was feeling.

  I closed the door of the fridge, and my eye caught the red X again on the calendar. With the wine and glass in my hand, I muttered as I left the kitchen. “You don’t own me.”

  The problem was, it did.

  “THAT WAS AN OKAY MOVIE,” Amber said when she flicked off the television.

  “If you like cheesy romance movies about coffee shops,” I agreed. “Which I do, of course.”

  Amber laughed and pointed at me before refilling her wine glass. “You’ve always been a closet romantic. Hard candy coating on the outside, gooey on the inside.”

  I forced myself not to roll my eyes at my best friend. “Sometimes, you have to be tough. Life can be hard.”

  We sat in silence and thought about the truth behind that statement. We both knew just how hard life could be. Amber had an idyllic home life, but she suffered every day physically after an accident broke her leg, arm, and ribs. She once told me she’d take all the broken bones in the world if it meant she didn’t have to keep watching me suffer at the hands of my foster families. That’s why I know she was the one to convince her parents to become my respite foster parents. They took me in one weekend a month to give me a break from the hell I lived in the rest of the time. When her oldest sister graduated from high school, her family took me in full-time and offered a stable environment for me to heal my heart a little bit before I became a jaded adult with no direction.

  Once I graduated from high school, I found my salvation in a little bakery in St. Paul. I worked there every morning while I went to school at Saint Paul College for culinary arts. After being trained in all aspects of the kitchen, my true love remained with the pastries. I used to joke that my hips and ass proved it, but the last year has stolen that phrase from my lips, too.

  “I heard you made an executive decision today without consulting your partner,” Amber finally said, tapping the stem of her wine glass on her thigh.

  My mind snapped back to the conversation, and I tipped my head to the side. “About?”

  “Brady taking over the ordering.”

  “Oh,” I said, taking another swig of wine. “I’m sorry, I should have told you, but you’re still in charge of the ordering for the front of house items. He’s only doing the kitchen side of it.”

  Amber rolled her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head slightly. “That was sarcasm, Hay-Hay. I’m not upset about it. Hell, it’s about time you started delegating a little bit of the work. If Brady knew anything about what I do up front, I would happily let him do my ordering, too, but he doesn’t. Before you know it, we’d have forty boxes of donut bags and no bakery papers.”

  I grinned but hid it behind my wine glass. “Accurate. Honestly, my decision today was rash, but after a few hours of thinking about it, I can see it was necessary. I’m spread too thin right now. I’d be stupid not to utilize the talent we already have in place.”

  “So you’re saying Brady is talented,” Amber joked, pointing her glass at me.

  I had to bite back a smart retort because she’d take that as weakness immediately. “I’m saying Brady has worked at The Fluffy Cupcake for seven years. He can manage the added responsibility as long as he keeps his head in the game instead of thinking about his latest conquest.”

  Amber grunted and waved her hand. “You have an elevated sense of how many women he actually dates. Regardless, his head is in the game.”

  “It sure felt like it when he showed me the order form this afternoon. He didn’t do it exactly the way I do, but in the end, the order was correct. He even noticed things I didn’t, like how much more candy we’re going through. He also found a better price on sugar. He did some complicated mathematical equations to predict how much extra flour, butter, and eggs to have at different times of the year, too. I can’t complain about his thoroughness.”

  “Well, frost my head and call me a cupcake,” Amber said, the wine making her giggle at the thought. “Haylee Davis had something nice to say about Brady Pearson.”

  “Hey!” I exclaimed, holding up my finger. “I always give credit where credit is due. That doesn’t mean I’m going to date the guy.”

  “You could, though,” Amber said instantly. “He’s been trying to take you out for years.”

  “Correction,” I said on a huff. “Brady has been trying to get in my pants for years, which frankly, I still don’t understand. Why does he want to date someone like me when he’s taking out blonde-haired, blue-eyed models every night of the week?”

  Amber finished the wine in her glass and set it next to the empty pizza box. “He’s not. Again, that’s just this thing you’ve made up in your head about him. He wants to date you because you’re a chestnut-haired, brown-eyed curvy beauty with a big brain. You put those other women to shame.”

  I grasped her hand and squeezed it, the only way I knew how to acknowledge the compliment. “Thanks, but it’s more like I’m a thick chick he’s never going to look back at after he bangs me. Don’t worry. I’m not going to sleep with him and ruin the dynamic we have going at The Fluffy Cupcake.” Maybe a change in subject was in order before Amber decided to marry Brady and me off to have little cupcakes of our own. “I can’t believe how much the business has grown since we opened eight years ago. Do you know that we only have enough supplies for two days? What I ordered last week would have lasted two more weeks just a few years ago.”

  Amber’s eyes bugged out, and she leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees. “Are we going to be okay? Do we need to make a run to Costco?”

  I waved my hand at my neck. “We’ll be fine. Our truck will be here Tuesday, so it’s no problem. I knew we were going through a lot of product, and I wish Brady had come to me sooner with the information. It’s his job to stay on top of inventory.”

  “He was,” Amber said, lifting a brow, “as evidenced by him coming to you today. If I know Brady, and I do, he figured you’d need to see a depleted inventory sheet before you’d believe him. You tend to ignore a lot of what he says, and poo-poo his ideas before you give them any consideration. I can’t say I blame him for adding a little shock factor this time. At least you finally listened to him.”

  “I don’t poo-poo anyone’s ideas!” I exclaimed, sitting upright on the couch. “That’s not fair!”

  Amber lifted a brow in response. “We know you don’t do it intentionally, and we all know why you do it, but that doesn’t mean you’re not missing out on great ideas to grow the business or make your life easier. It’s been especially bad this year.”

  My head fell back against the couch, and my eyes closed. Amber was probably right. I did poo-poo ideas that didn’t jive with my plans sometimes. Not all the time, but when I did, the poo-pooing usually involved Brady Pearson.

  “I’m tired,” I whispered. “Thinking about or adding new ideas to an already overflowing baker’s bench stresses me out.”

  “And pretending everything is fine, doesn’t?”

>   I opened one eye and pinned it on Amber. “No, but it does allow me to get up every morning and get through the day.”

  “I’ve heard of better coping mechanisms,” Amber muttered.

  I nearly choked while trying to hold in my laughter. As if Amber had any right to talk about coping mechanisms. I finally sat up and clasped my hands in front of me. “How about we have a meeting tomorrow afternoon? I’ll make a batch of peppermint bonbon brownies, and we’ll even invite Brady. We can hash out ideas, make changes that will improve business and customer flow, and see how we can change things to take a little bit of stress off everyone’s shoulders.”

  Amber sat up and threw her arms around me. “I think that’s a great idea,” she whispered. “For you most of all. I’m afraid when the clock flips to midnight on July thirteenth, and you see that red X on your calendar, you’ll think your life is over.”

  “Don’t be silly,” I said, ending the hug and nonchalantly waving her off. “My life isn’t over just because I’m single when I turn thirty.”

  Amber’s head bobbed on her shoulders as she considered what I said. “I guess what I’m saying is, you’ve lost focus on what’s important. Instead, what focus you do have, is on that red X. You’ve been obsessing about that for the last six months instead of enjoying all the success you’ve earned over the last eight years.” She stood and held up her finger. “You know what? I forgot for a moment that I have the power to change that.”

  She stomped off in the direction of the kitchen, and before I could catch up, she’d ripped the month of July off the calendar and ripped it into shreds.

  “Amber! What are you doing?” I shrieked from the end of the counter, as she made confetti out of my calendar.

  “I’m helping you refocus. The idea that you need to find a man by your thirtieth birthday is ridiculous, Haylee,” she said, sweeping the tiny white pieces into her hand and stomping to the bathroom. She tossed the paper into the toilet and flushed it with aplomb. “There. Officially refocused.”

  My mouth opened and closed several times without words coming out. “But—but, how am I supposed to know what day it is?”

  “Alexa, what day is it?” Amber asked, waiting patiently.

  “Today is Saturday, June first,” Alexa said.

  “Problem solved,” she answered, her hands up in the air.

  I sighed and shook my head at the woman leaning against the wall of the bathroom. “No, the problem is most definitely not solved,” I whispered, my head in my hands. “That red X was a goal, Amber.”

  She put her arm around my shoulders and walked me back into the living room. I sat on the couch and she refilled my wine glass. “It wasn’t a goal, Hay-Hay. It was an albatross around your neck. Love doesn’t happen because the calendar says it’s time. Love happens when the moment is right, and the person you’re with makes you forget about the days on the calendar.”

  I brought my glass to my lips and drained it. Amber may be right about that, but the bigger picture was one I couldn’t let anyone see. I lowered my head to my hand and grasped my forehead. I had already found the person who made me forget about the days on the calendar, but dating him was out of the question. Nothing sucked more than working day after day with the guy you’re in love with while knowing you can never be part of his life. Amber might not understand that, but I did, all the way to my crushed and mangled soul.

  Three

  The scent of peppermint wafted through the bakery, now empty other than the three main players in the business. While Amber and I have several part-time workers that help in the front of the bakery, they weren’t included in this discussion today. In truth, I didn’t have to include Brady, considering he wasn’t a partner in the business, but he was integral to what we do here, and his ideas always held merit. He’s intuitive when it comes to the small changes that can make things so much easier. We’ve already implemented a lot of those ideas over the years, so having him here for today’s discussion made sense.

  I made a strangled snorting sound and rolled my eyes. Sure, whatever you need to tell yourself, Haylee. Brady might be a playboy, but he had magic hands. He could get the most stubborn dough to do what he wanted, and the same could be said about women. Brady was great at coaxing young, sweet, dopey girls who made puppy dog eyes at him into his bed. Okay, that’s not fair. All of the girls probably weren’t dopey, unless they were dopey in love. The rest was completely accurate per the Lake Pendle gossip mill.

  Cannot confirm one hundred percent, though.

  When I hired Brady, he was fresh out of school in Milwaukee and looking for a new life. I wasn’t convinced he was aching to live and work in a town the size of Lake Pendle, though. With a population of eight thousand in the summer and far less in the winter, we weren’t exactly a metropolis. After growing up in a city the size of Milwaukee, I worried we’d give him a serious culture shock. Brady took the job nonplused by the idea, and I expected him to last a year here before he went in search of more opportunities in a bigger city. Now, seven years later, he was still here baking bread and keeping my butt in line. Ironic, since I was supposed to be his boss. Then again, keeping my butt in line wasn’t easy when you factor in the size of it. I laughed out loud at my joke and then glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot. They didn’t need to know that the boss was falling apart at the seams.

  Every year, I bake a special cupcake on the anniversary of each employee’s start date to honor that person. I only make that cupcake once a year, so everyone races here in the morning to get one before they are gone. Brady’s was a light, airy peanut butter cupcake topped with buttercream icing and a mini Pearson’s Nut Roll. He started working here on July twelfth, and that meant his seventh anniversary was coming up soon. Customers were already asking if I was going to have Better than Brady cupcakes, which is what I called them in jest, again this year.

  I always swallowed around the lump in my throat and told them I would, but I was also secretly holding my breath. Every year, until the day of his anniversary, I wondered if it would be the year he turned in his resignation letter and headed out for bigger and better things. I worried about that until the morning of July twelfth when he stood at the workbench, helping me decorate twenty dozen cupcakes. He would laugh his wonderfully deep, rich laugh as he settled the nut roll on the top of each one. He pretends to hate the premise of the cupcakes, but I know he secretly eats it up. As soon as the bakery opens, he’s at the bakery case with Amber laughing with the locals and passing out cupcakes to anyone looking for a fix.

  That was what made it hard to hate Brady Pearson. As much as he got under my skin about my personal life, he knew his trade. When he wasn’t baking or keeping the cooler in order, he was researching new products, organizing community events, and schmoozing with the ladies when they showed up for their morning coffee and pastry.

  It was always a struggle for me to admit, but Brady was an essential part of this team. It was time I acknowledged that. It might kill me to do it, but I had to—for him and me. I set three cups of coffee down on the table then grabbed the new catalogs that had come in the mail yesterday. If we were going to do this, we might as well do it right, even if it took all night.

  “Hay-Hay!” Amber said, darting back into the bakery. She plopped down in a chair and let her heaving chest catch up with her breath. “You’re never going to believe this.”

  I slid into a seat next to her and put my hand over hers. “Are you okay? Do you need some water?”

  Amber’s head swung wildly. “I’m fine.” She wiped her brow with a napkin, and the breath from her lips ruffled her bangs. “I was trying to run. You know how this leg is sometimes.” She motioned at her stick-thin leg wrapped in a large brace.

  “I do, but why were you trying to run?”

  “Two reasons. The first was, I didn’t want them to see me. The second was, I had to get back here and tell you!”

  I made the out with it motion with my hand. “Tell me what?”

&n
bsp; “I just saw Jerry Hill and Darla McFinkle in a lip lock in front of the bank!”

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I said, my lip turned up in a sneer.

  Darla McFinkle was my sworn archenemy. That’s not even a dramatic statement. We’ve been at odds since the first day of kindergarten. I still don’t know why Darla acts the way she does, but she loves nothing more than to poke at me every chance she gets. I started giggling, and soon it was full-on laughter. “She thinks I’m in love with Jerry Hill, so she’s dating him!”

  We fell across the table, our shoulders shaking with laughter and our snorts of pure amusement filling the small room.

  Slowly, I sucked up air to catch my breath. “If Darla only knew how much I don’t love Jerry Hill. I should feel bad that she’s sucking face with that vampire in an attempt to make me jealous, but I just can’t get there with it.”

  “I hope he doesn’t leave fang marks!” Amber said between giggles. “He’s so creepy.” An involuntary shiver racked her body while she made a gagging sound. “Sorry, I just thought about kissing Jerry Hill and almost vomited.”

  “Who’s kissing Jerry Hill?” a deep baritone voice asked from the doorway.

  I sat up and straightened my coat unconsciously when Brady walked into the room. More like he commanded the room. I hated that he had that kind of presence wherever he went. Okay, I didn’t hate it. I loved a man who could work a room and immediately join in on a conversation to move it along. That didn’t mean I had to like that he was one of them. It was just another notch on his side of the board that I was forced to ignore.

  “Darla McFinkle,” I answered when he sat down in the empty chair between us.

  His lip went up in a sneer of distaste. I guess no one liked Darla in this town. I bet even a disgusting excuse for a human being like Jerry Hill didn’t actually like her. Then again, they were perfect for each other. Maybe Lake Pendle had a new love match. I rolled my eyes at myself for being so snarky.