Cupcake (The Fluffy Cupcake Book 1)

by Katie Mettner

  Darla was standing at her table the same as we were, and most of the spectators were back in their seats.

  “We’re all here,” I said, wishing I had time to hear Brady’s news, but I didn’t want to look rude in front of the judges either.

  “Then, without further ado, let’s announce our winner! Both cupcakes were light, airy, and perfectly baked. However, the icing on Berry Sinful was quite delightful. We believe the secret ingredient was marshmallow fluff?” he asked, and I gave the nod. All three judges did a fist pump at their cupcake eating prowess. “We thought so! The combination with the strawberries and cream cheese was perfectly sinful for sure. Therefore, Berry Sinful has won the title at Strawberry Fest Bake-off this year! Congratulations, Team Fluffy Cupcake, for a fine performance, and thank you, Darla, for the wonderful runner-up cupcake.”

  Mr. Samson put the microphone down and carried the trophy to us, his smile wide as he passed it over for us to admire. We smiled happily for the camera while we took pictures with the judges and at our tables. Thankfully, Darla remained at her table when they took the full shot.

  After the pictures were taken and the congratulations were over, I addressed the spectators. “Amber is at our booth in the food tent. If you want to head over, she has samples of Berry Sinful ready for you to enjoy. Thanks for being here today and supporting Strawberry Fest and our business.”

  The mass exodus from the building had me grabbing my phone and sending Amber a picture of the trophy and the words, get ready. I chuckled to myself and put the phone down, turning to Brady to hear his news when Darla interrupted us.

  “Well, if it isn’t fatso and her adorable BF. What’s that old poem? Jack Sprat could eat no fat. His wife could eat no lean. You two personify that like no one else I’ve ever known.”

  Brady stepped in front of me and leaned on the table. “Do you have a point, Darla?”

  “No, she doesn’t,” I said, stepping to the side, so we looked like a team rather than him as my protector. “She has sour grapes because her frosting looked like bird crap, and ours was quite delightful.”

  If steam really could pour from someone’s ears, Darla’s could be powering a locomotive.

  “It isn’t even fair that you’re in this competition,” she growled. “Professionals shouldn’t be allowed to compete!”

  “I’ll make sure to tell the judges to change the bylaws,” I drawled dryly.

  “Is there anything else we can do for you, Darla? I think you better run along to the makeup and hair tent. You are a bit of a mess, and that crown is waiting. Better use your extra time to perfect your beauty queen look,” Brady said cheerily.

  “I plan on it. I also plan to win. It’s a shame you decided to date this fat bitch instead of me. You deserve so much better than her. You could be fucking a beauty queen every night. Instead, you’re fucking the town’s orphan no one wanted. How does it feel to be the pity fuck, fluffy?” she asked before she spun on her heel and flounced away.

  Refusing to react and let her see how much that hurt, I kept a smile glued to my face until she left the building, her tight ass swaying as she pranced away on those heels like the true bitch that she is.

  “Haylee,” he said, but I held up my hand, taking a deep breath, so my actual reaction to her words didn’t run down my cheeks.

  “Just—it’s fine. We need to pack this stuff in the van and get over to the tent before Amber is overrun by cupcake eaters.”

  “Not until I make myself clear,” he growled. “You are not, nor will you ever be, unwanted or a pity fuck,” he said, pointing to where Darla had stood. “Do you understand me?”

  “She’s not wrong in her assessment, though, Brady. Maybe not about the pity fuck, but about being the town’s orphan. I’m almost thirty, and if I count the people who care about me, I can use one hand and have fingers left over.” I waved my hand. “Forget it. We need to go,” I said, grabbing the handle of the cart and pushing it out into the air.

  It had cooled off, and clouds were building in the sky, leaving a hazy cast to the afternoon that meant storms were coming. With any luck, we’d get the cupcake tasting done and the booth packed up before the rain hit.

  “I’m going to move the van over by the tent,” I said to him over my shoulder. “If it starts to rain, we can’t be transporting product that far. Why don’t you head to the food tent and help Amber until I get there?”

  He grasped the cart and pulled it to a stop. “I’ll load this and move the van. You’re the cupcake baker and should be there first. Let me do the heavy lifting for the rest of the day.”

  “Sure. Okay,” I said, releasing the cart. “Just don’t be too long. Storms are coming, and it’s not safe to be in a tent.”

  “You’ll see me in ten,” he promised. “And Haylee,” he said, his brow down to his nose, “I love you, more than anything. More than the love of one thousand friends. Okay?”

  I nodded, trying for a smile but barely getting a trembling lip tilt. “I love you, too.”

  He leaned over for a gentle kiss to seal his words and then pushed the cart toward the parking lot while I diverted to the tent.

  I did love him, but unfortunately, Darla was right. He deserved better.

  Twenty-One

  The food tent was packed when I arrived, and most of the cupcakes had already fled the scene. Amber had given me a look that could mean nothing other than help me! I waded right in, helping her hand out samples of the cupcakes, accept congratulations on another winning entry, and take cash from people’s hands as they snatched up prepackaged cupcakes like sugar addicts looking for a fix. I wasn’t complaining. The more they bought, the less we had to pack up and take back to the bakery when it was time to go home.

  It had been almost thirty minutes when I realized I hadn’t seen Brady yet. “Hey, Amber,” I said, now that the crowd was down to a manageable size. “Have you seen Brady around anywhere? He was supposed to bring the van over here half an hour ago.”

  “He came in about ten minutes ago and gave me the van keys. Then his phone rang, so he stepped out. It was way too loud in here,” she answered. A rumble of thunder boomed in the distance, and she grimaced, turning her head toward the door of the tent. “We’re almost out of cupcakes and bread. I think we need to pack up and get out of here.”

  When Amber was thirteen, she’d been caught in a tornado in the family camper. It roared through the campground while they were sleeping, and she barely survived. She still lives with the after-effects of it now with her leg. She also has severe PTSD about thunderstorms, which is to be expected, and this storm was taking us by surprise.

  “I agree. I’ll take the product to the van while you take down the banners and grab the rest. Leave the tables and chairs. They will break them down tomorrow.”

  She handed me the key to the van, and I gathered the few containers of cupcakes and loaves of bread we had left, stacking them on the cart. I grabbed the cash box, too, and then pushed the cart toward the van. Once I had this stowed away, I’d look for Brady and let him know it was time to go.

  When I finished loading the van, I still didn’t see him anywhere. I leaned on the back of the bumper to wait for Amber to bring the rest of the supplies and decided to text him. It was going to rain, and we needed to get out of here sooner rather than later if we were going to get the truck unloaded before it stormed. Then, I heard his laughter near the front of the tent. I peeked around the door, and he was talking to one of the Strawberry Fest committee members.

  “No, we aren’t a thing,” I heard him say. “We went out for a few weeks, but she’s too needy and emotional.”

  “Really?” the committee member asked. “That surprises me. She’s always so put together and confident.”

  “It’s an act,” Brady said, his head shaking. “She has no self-confidence, and her self-esteem is equally nonexistent. I’ve come to realize I can’t be with a woman like that.”

  The committee member said something else, but I didn’t he
ar it over the roaring in my ears. Was he talking about me? Brady’s phone rang again, and he told Mr. Cavanaugh goodbye and then answered the call. I ducked back behind the door, so he didn’t see me. He had to be talking about me, right? He hasn’t dated anyone else for a few weeks at a time, at least that’s what he told me that night in my apartment. The night I let him into my bed and my heart. Why would Brady say something like that to someone he hardly knew, though, when he had just told me he loved me. He just asked me to be his girlfriend last night, and now he’s claiming he can’t be with a woman like me?

  The truth dawned, and I swallowed back the bile. Maybe Brady was embarrassed for people to know we were together. Wait. That doesn’t make any sense either. Sure, we work together, but he asked me to be his girlfriend. How did he think he was going to hide that from people?

  “Thank you, Baker Robinson,” I heard Brady say, laughter in his voice again. “I guess you heard the news already.” There was a pause, and then Brady chuckled. “I’m highly sought after now. I didn’t even know my application had been approved. I’ve already had two job offers come into my email since this morning. Wait, what?” he asked, his voice pausing again. “You want me to take over your bakery?” He paused again, and I swallowed back the tears gathering in my eyes. Was he going to leave The Fluffy Cupcake? Was he applying to other bakeries? Why didn’t he tell me? What the hell was going on?

  I couldn’t decide if I should be hurt or angry, but either way, he had to know I wasn’t leaving my business here in Lake Pendle, right? He asks me to be his girlfriend and then starts applying to other places? Maybe he thinks it will be too awkward to work for me now that we’re dating each other, but I warned him about that. He said he had no problem keeping the two separate, and so far, he hadn’t. Besides, if he were just going to work at a different bakery, he wouldn’t be talking to his old boss from Milwaukee.

  Amber dumped everything in the back of the van with her eye on the sky. I slammed the doors, not even caring if Brady heard me, and motioned to the front of the van, praying my voice didn’t wobble when I spoke. “I’m going to take the truck back to the bakery and get it unloaded before the storms roll in.”

  “What about Brady?” she asked, as more thunder rumbled in the distance.

  “Give him a ride home for me? Tell him I’ll talk to him later,” I said, jumping into the cargo van and trying to close the door.

  She grabbed the handle before I could slam it and pinned me with a look. “What’s going on, Haylee. You can’t just leave him here.”

  “I’m not,” I said, gritting my teeth to keep the tears at bay. “You’re here and can give him a ride in your car. I’m sure he’ll be done with his call soon. Just let him know when you’re ready to leave. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “I think you should wait for him. He won’t be happy if you don’t,” she said, still holding onto the door.

  “I don’t care if he’s happy or not,” I said, relieved when she released the handle. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I started the van and pulled away, refusing to look in the mirror to see the look of shock on Amber’s face or the tears on mine.

  SOMETHING WAS GOING on with Haylee, and I had no idea what it was. I checked the clock again, and it was after eight o’clock in the morning. The Fluffy Cupcake was still without its main cupcake. I knew she was upstairs, but she refused to answer the door when I knocked. I even sent Amber up to talk to her, but she wouldn’t answer the door for her, either.

  When I finished my call yesterday, the bakery van was gone, and so was she. Amber gave me a ride back to the bakery to grab my car, and the van was in its usual spot. Haylee’s car wasn’t next to it like it should have been, though. I didn’t know where she’d gone, but she wouldn’t answer my texts or calls. I figured it had something to do with what Darla had said at the competition. I thought I’d taken care of that situation, but clearly, I was mistaken.

  I untied my apron and hung it on the hook, stopping in the doorway of the bakery until Amber’s customer left and closed the door behind her. “Something is wrong,” I said, my shoulders slumping. “Very wrong.”

  “I agree,” she said, handing me a cup of coffee. “She never goes incognito for this long, and she always shows up to do her baking. I know we have extra product made, but it’s the weekend, and there are special orders to do. I don’t understand what’s going on. Maybe she’s sick and plans to come in later to get the orders done for tomorrow?”

  I lowered myself to a chair and sipped the coffee. “I think Darla really got to her yesterday. She was cruel, Amber. Beyond anything you’ve ever heard.”

  “She was mad that she lost, right?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “She’s that way every year.”

  “She wasn’t happy about losing the competition, no. She said professionals shouldn’t be allowed to compete. If it had only been that, Haylee would have brushed it off. But Darla quoted the nursery rhyme Jack Sprat.”

  “Fuck,” Amber said, drawing out the last syllable. “Pardon my French, but I know that didn’t go over well.”

  “I think she would have ignored her if Darla hadn’t then called her the town orphan no one wanted to be followed immediately by saying she was a pity fuck.”

  “Oh my God,” Amber sighed, dropping her chin to her chest. “This is bad, Brady. Nothing gets to her more than being reminded that her parents didn’t want her.”

  “I know. After Darla left, Haylee said she could count how many people love her on one hand with fingers left over. I want to give her space, and I know I should, but I’m afraid of what she’ll do if she gets too bogged down in what someone as insignificant as Darla thinks or says.”

  Amber nodded. “I agree. Once Taylor gets here, I’ll use my spare key to her apartment and go in.”

  “I’m done with the baking,” I said, standing immediately. “Give me the key, and I’ll go.”

  She swung her head a hair and pursed her lips. “I think you should let me, Brady. This situation feels like a two-part process. She needs to cry on my shoulder about it first before she’ll be able to hear what you have to say.”

  I tossed up my hand and let it fall to my side. “My voice should be the loudest voice Haylee hears!” I exclaimed, angry that Haylee wouldn’t talk to me.

  Amber held out her hands to calm me. “It should be, but Brady, being in a relationship is new to her, and the things Darla said, they implied she doesn’t deserve that relationship, right?”

  I nodded, some of the anger draining away. “She said I could be dating and fucking a beauty queen every night instead of dating the fatso no one wanted.”

  Amber leaned on the counter and sucked in air deeply, her eyes flashing with anger. “Darla so needs to disappear from this town,” she ground out.

  “Don’t let anyone hear you say that,” I warned, just in case she had plans to make it happen.

  “I meant to find a new city, Brady.” She shook her head. “I’m so tired of the way she poisons this town.”

  “There’s always one in every town, I’ve learned. Eventually, something will happen to put Darla in her place. When it does, things might change. For now, we have to take care of our cupcake.”

  “And you have to trust that I know the best way to do that.”

  I held up my hand. “Okay, you’re right. There is so much history between Haylee and Darla, and you and Haylee. I just want to be the one she runs to when she’s scared, not away from.”

  “Did you do anything to upset her?” she asked, her head cocked to the side.

  I held my hands up against my chest. “Not that I’m aware of, no. I didn’t even get a chance to tell her that I passed my master baker exam and am officially certified. They called me while we were waiting for the judging. By the time I got back into the building, the judges were back with their decision.”

  “Brady!” she exclaimed, running around the counter to hug me. “Congratulations! That’s a major accomplishment! I remember when Hay-Hay finally
got hers. It’s like getting a master’s degree after years of hard work.”

  I patted her back before I released her. “Thank you. It is exciting. It would be more exciting if I weren’t worried about Haylee, but you’re right. It takes four years of hard work even to apply to take the test, so finally getting the accreditation feels wonderful.”

  “Why don’t you go home and take a nap? I’ll call you once I talk to Hay-Hay.”

  I shook my head, my earlier fatigue vanquished by the coffee and knowing Amber had my back with our girl. “I know I’m not the lead cupcake baker here, but I can hold my own when it comes to making and decorating them. I’m going to get her special orders done for tomorrow, so she can breathe when she comes in tonight. If she comes in tonight,” I added, biting my lip.

  “She will,” Amber said with confidence. “This is her business, and she won’t neglect it for long. I can promise you that she knows exactly what she has to do and how long it will take her. If you want to do it, though, I won’t stop you. Besides, it will show her that you’re her partner in the relationship and the bakery. Sometimes seeing someone’s thoughtfulness for where you are in life says more than any words can.”

  I pointed at her and winked. “Exactly what I was thinking. You know where I am if you need me.”

  I headed straight to the cooler to get the first batch of cupcakes that were already made but not yet decorated. I would work all day and night again if it meant Haylee trusted me to have her back in life.

  Twenty-Two

  I took a deep breath before I knocked on the office door in the 4-H building. It was only eight a.m., and I should be at the bakery, but there was something I needed to do before the parade started at noon. If I were smart, I’d turn around and pretend I didn’t know this information, but I couldn’t with a good conscience. The town of Lake Pendle deserved to know the truth.