Unscripted Love: The Complete Reality TV Romance Collection

by Heather Thurmeier

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  Crimson Sneak Peek page for The Confection Connection by Monica Tillery

  Carly Piper hung up the phone and blew out an aggravated breath. Last week, a refrigerator went out, costing her several hundred dollars she couldn’t exactly spare, and now an oven? Her bakery, Caketopia, couldn’t do without it, and with the biggest pitch of her life happening in less than an hour, she didn’t have the time to deal with it. With a quick roll of her neck and shoulders, she mentally tallied the extra time it would take to handle the pitch without an assistant. Speaking of, her employee’s heels clacked on the tile floor, announcing her imminent arrival. How Layla Jameson managed to work in those shoes confounded Carly.

  “Hey, I was just about to find you. I’ve got a repair guy coming for the oven, so I need you to stay here. I’ll have to go on the pitch alone.” Carly untied her apron and hung it on a hook.

  “Are you sure? That’s a lot of stuff to carry.” Layla towered over Carly, especially in those ridiculous shoes. “It’ll be crowded, and you might have to make more than one trip. With nobody there to help you—”

  “I don’t see any way around it. If we don’t get this stupid oven fixed, we’ll fall behind on this week’s orders. With my luck, the other one will probably go out, too.”

  Layla laughed, then stopped when she saw that Carly wasn’t joking. Between the constant repairs, the economy, and competition, Caketopia struggled to remain successful. Getting this job could mean the beginning of a new era for Carly and her business. Sure, it would be easier to concentrate on the pitch if Layla went with her, but she was a professional. She could win over the celebrity couple planning their wedding without help. She had to.

  “All right,” Layla said. “I’ll go load the van, at least. You just get ready, and I’ll see you outside.”

  Carly packed her bag with binders that held photos of her work, Caketopia information she could leave with the couple, and a contract ready for them to sign if things went her way. After kicking off her rubber clogs, she slipped her feet into much less comfortable but infinitely more flattering shoes before swiping fresh gloss across her lips and heading out to the van. Hopefully the desperation would be replaced by her usual calm professionalism by the time she arrived at the swanky uptown hotel.

  A blast of warm air greeted her as she crossed the parking lot to her refrigerated van. Layla, ever the mind-reader, had already turned the van on, ensuring that it would be nice and cool for the drive to the hotel. There, Carly would either secure the biggest job of her career, guaranteeing more business than she could dream of, or come back to the same old thing, paying bills she could scarcely afford. Before she second-guessed herself any more, Carly opened the door and slid in, noting with satisfaction that she could at least afford the new van. Now she didn’t have to worry about snagging her clothes on the ragged vinyl of her old delivery vehicle. The smooth new seats and cold air conditioning reminded her of how far she’d already come.

  She rolled down the window. “Wish me luck!” What she meant was more like, Cross your fingers and toes because getting this job means we’ll be set from now on, but she gave Layla a bright smile.

  “Knock ’em dead, boss,” Layla said with a little wave as she squinted in the sunlight.

  Carly pulled out of the parking lot and navigated the van through Dallas traffic to Central Expressway, and started to relax as the city flew past. She was an accomplished professional, an award winner in her field, and the chance to make the cakes for a high-profile celebrity wedding should feel exciting. It shouldn’t feel like she was heading for the trial of her life. Being prepared always boosted her confidence, so she reviewed her spiel, which, after delivering it for so many years, she could recite in her sleep. Now all she had to do was show up and wow the client. No problem, right?

  Before long, she was dodging paparazzi and curious onlookers as she turned toward the back of the hotel. Celebrities visiting Dallas often stayed at the hot spot, and the news must be out that country music superstar Rusty Grainger and his notoriously quirky fiancée, actress Sequoia Rivers were on site. At the service entrance, Carly parked the van and got to work stacking her signature lavender bakery boxes into neat rows on a dolly. She hoisted her oversized canvas bag over her shoulder and trekked through the parking garage to the door. Once inside, Carly took in the hotel’s lush, almost bacchanalian atmosphere with wide eyes and an appreciation for the stunning attention to detail. From the gleaming black marble floors to the plush burgundy brocade on the walls, the place screamed elegant debauchery. She parked the dolly and fished a card out of her pocket to check the suite name once more before the elevator arrived.

  Ensconced in the tiny decadent space, she concentrated on her breathing, reminding herself that her work was top-notch. Best to focus on the positive and try to forget how badly she needed the business. As the elevator slowed, she adjusted her bag on her shoulder and held her head high. The doors whooshed open, and silence greeted her. Silence, a near empty hallway, and Michael Welch.

  He whistled innocently as she rolled her eyes. Without so much as flinching under her withering gaze, he brushed past her into the elevator. “Going up, Carly?”

  He tapped the “close door” button and stood an inch away from her. Of course he would be here. Why hadn’t she anticipated that? She’d met Michael Welch three years ago when they were rival contestants on the Cuisine Network’s popular reality competition show Sugar Shock, where hopeful bakers battled to create exciting cakes and pastries and complete ridiculous challenges. His charisma, charm, and talent—combined with thick brown hair, a chiseled jaw, and piercing green eyes—made it hard for Carly to reconcile her attraction to him with her irritation. Everyone—show personnel, other contestants, the viewers—seemed to love him, but everything he did rubbed Carly the wrong way. He was almost too good-looking and too personable.

  For Carly, the two high points of the Sugar Shock experience came on the day she found out she’d been accepted for that season and the day she was voted off and could get away from Michael. Spending months with him on set hadn’t endeared him to her, but he’d somehow managed to pull her under his magnetic spell. They’d shared a confusing and stupid kiss—moments before the challenge that sealed her fate, of course. No matter how much he protested and pleaded innocence, he knew what he was doing. She was thrown off her game and sent home, while he went on to compete in the final competition and won the whole thing. She wasn’t even disappointed to be eliminated so close to the end, since it was such a relief to finally be rid of him.

  Even though it was clear she wasn’t cut out for cutthroat TV competitions, the experience and recognition that had come with the show brought new opportunities. Carly could finally open her own shop, where she happily spent her days creating beautiful confections to celebrate the most important days of her clients’ lives. The work was invigorating and satisfying, everything she’d ever wanted.

  They reached their floor, and Carly set her mind to ignore the memories evoked by his too-familiar cinnamon-chocolate scent.

  “Nervous, cupcake?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why? Because every hoity-toity bakery from here to Fort Worth is competing for the same job? Because you’ve suddenly decided that your cakes aren’t fancy enough for primetime? Or is it because you finally get to see me again after all these years?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and the tension she’d been carrying around in her shoulders all day disappeared in a quick burst of laughter.

  “Oh, yeah, that’s it.” She’d hoped for confident sarcasm, but heard a prim quality in her voice that made her cringe. Maybe breathing the same air would somehow help his confidence rub off on her. She ignored how warm her cheeks felt and gripped the handle of her bag.


  “Come on. We got this.” There was no “we,” but she knew if she reminded him of that, he’d have a snappy comeback that would make her feel like a fool. He pulled his signature black skullcap tight over his head, his green eyes glinting with enthusiasm. Without asking, he commandeered her dolly and pulled it out of the elevator. “Let’s roll.”

  “Didn’t you bring samples or anything? Are you planning to win the couple over on charm alone?”

  “I brought an assistant from my shop with me today, and she has my things. You happened to catch me on my way back upstairs from checking out the amenities. Don’t worry about my pitch.”

  The view was just as good both coming and going, and she hated herself for noticing. Michael shot her one last look over his shoulder before heading down the hall, making her wonder if she’d broadcasted her thoughts.

  Carly spent the short walk drawing from his confidence and trying to project some semblance of her own. Michael stopped outside the door, rapped twice, and stepped back. A wispy blonde dressed head to toe in black, holding a clipboard, and barking orders into a walkie-talkie answered.

  “Names and business?” The blonde didn’t look up as Carly and Michael each provided their information. “I have Michael Welch, and I have Caketopia. So which is it?”

  “They’re two separate businesses. Caketopia is mine, and The Clubhouse is his.” Carly tried to see the listings on the page as the woman went through them again.

  “Okay, well, we have one appointment left, and it’s for Michael Welch of Caketopia. Who wants it?”

  Carly’s heart sank as she realized what had happened. She needed the job—her future nearly depended on it—but not if it meant pushing a legitimate competitor out of the way to get it. “We have two separate bakeries, so we both want it.”

  “You can both go in if you share the appointment. The rest of the day is booked.”

  Michael patted Carly on the shoulder. “Come on. We’ll split the time and explain what happened when we get in there.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yep. Let’s do this. The worst that can happen is neither one of us gets the job. We’ve got to at least try.”

  Michael nodded to the blonde woman, and she spoke into her walkie-talkie about the change of plans.

  Carly was immediately glad that she’d let Michael talk her into sharing the appointment. The air was charged with excitement and possibility. The huge entourage necessary to staff the venture swirled around a common spot in the middle of the room, rushing around, chattering into phones, and checking clipboards. One of the country’s most famous couples sat at an elaborately carved wooden table, in absurdly oversized purple velvet chairs, as though they were holding court.

  As Carly looked around, taking everything in and mentally rehearsing her spiel, Michael strode through the crowd and headed straight to Rusty’s table. He was in his element, sure of his abilities and that he was right where he belonged. That confidence was half the reason he’d won the reality show. His creative and fearless designs explained the rest.

  Rusty Grainger, the groom, stood, and his eyes lit up with recognition.

  “You’re Michael Welch,” he exclaimed. His head swiveled from one to the other. “And you’re Carly Piper, from that show! What was it called, babe?” He turned to his fiancée, who was decidedly less impressed. Not surprising, given her reputation. Sequoia Rivers was a hugely famous movie star known more for her quirky new age habits than for her glitzy roles. She appeared to delight in not caring what or who was hot, and she wasn’t likely to be drawn in by Michael’s swagger or impressed by pseudo-famous bakers.

  “Sugar Shock.” She stopped short of rolling her eyes.

  “You’re hired, man.” Rusty thrust his hand out, and Michael grabbed it, shaking heartily as they voiced their mutual admiration for one another. A short blonde bearing a dolly stacked with Michael’s signature red-and-black bakery boxes arrived and silently unloaded his materials.

  “Not so fast, honey. Let’s at least taste the cakes first. Plus, I don’t know if I want some chocolate-jalapeño cake shaped like an armadillo or something at our wedding.” Fortunately, Carly was prepared to show both her classic, traditional designs as well as a few she’d created to reflect Sequoia’s earthy, natural sensibilities.

  Carly went to work organizing her own samples and portfolios, bolstered by Sequoia’s obvious lack of enthusiasm for Michael. Customers appreciated Carly’s elegant style, her ability to put fresh twists on classic design, and her impeccable attention to detail. She wasn’t flashy, and she definitely wasn’t famous, but she had built a name for herself. A reputation built on exquisite quality, cake by cake.

  She lined up plates with small hand-lettered placards that labeled each flavor. She gave Rusty and Sequoia each a fork, then set up a binder full of cake photos for each of them. Michael did the same with the wilder flavors from his own shop. Carly then launched into her pitch. Experience had taught her that a groom’s enthusiasm means nothing if the bride isn’t interested. The bride’s opinion is what really matters, when it comes down to it.

  “These are the most popular flavors at Caketopia, but I would be delighted to work with you if there’s something you want that you don’t see here.” She waved her hand over samples of her classic white chocolate cake and watched as they tasted bites of coconut, lemon, and Italian crème cake. “Many brides can’t or don’t want to choose just one, so we can do the layers in different flavors. We can also create something beautiful by mixing and matching frosting flavors and choosing different fresh fruits to complement your choices.”

  “If you want something a little less run of the mill, try these.” Michael pushed his Mexican chocolate, red velvet, gingerbread, and toasted almond samples forward. “The Clubhouse offers frostings that are a bit more unique as well. Let’s see, we’ve got Kahlua, mocha, chocolate peanut butter, and hazelnut. I can do more traditional choices as well.”

  Rusty tried Michael’s cakes, obviously savoring each bite as he made appreciative noises, and Sequoia looked as though she were ready to slap somebody. It looked as though she would turn them both down just to get Michael away from the table.

  “Sequoia, what do you have in mind for your wedding cake?” Carly took a chance, hoping that Sequoia was like most brides and could be diverted when given the chance to wax poetic about her big day. She wasn’t disappointed.

  Sequoia’s face took on the dreamy look Carly had seen on countless brides before her. “I want it to be elegant, but sweet, you know? I want it to be special, unique, and even glamorous. If people saw it and thought of a fairy tale, that would be perfect.” Mentally shelving the quirky nature-inspired designs she’d prepared, Carly nodded. She’d expected to hear that Sequoia dreamt of an environmentally responsible wedding, maybe something spiritual or nature-inspired. An elegant fairy tale was the last thing Carly expected, but it was absolutely something she could deliver.

  “And I can do that. We can work together to create something that has never been done before, something uniquely you. I want you to look at the portfolio, but your cake isn’t in here because it hasn’t been designed yet. It’ll be one of a kind, just like you.”

  “Ooh, I like the sound of that.” Sequoia’s eyes sparkled, and Carly forged ahead to close the deal, hoping that Michael would realize what was happening and keep his mouth closed. While Carly struggled to start her own business, Michael had already published a cookbook and shot a pilot. It wasn’t picked up, and he eventually returned to Dallas to open his own bakery, but from what she could tell, he was an instant success. His moderate fame from Sugar Shock and the cookbook translated into big business back home.

  “Maybe these are a little too out-there for your wedding cake.” Carly indicated Michael’s more daring flavor samples. “But people love something new and exotic for a groom’s cake, and I’d be more than happy to work with you to create that.”

  “We can do something fancy and elegant for the wedding cake, and Rust
y can do whatever crazy combination he wants for the groom’s cake? That sounds perfect to me!” The bride clasped her hands together and nodded decisively. “What do you think, honey?”

  “What?” Her groom looked up from the portfolio, his mouth full of gingerbread cake. “Whatever you want, baby doll.”

  “Great, then you two are hired. When can we get started?” Sequoia pressed her hands together on her lap and bobbed a little in her seat, clearly excited by the possibilities.

  Carly’s delight at being hired on the spot for such a huge job fizzled when she realized what Sequoia was saying. She and Michael weren’t a package deal. They didn’t work together, she didn’t want to work together, and she didn’t want him anywhere near this wedding. Determined not to freak out, she focused on retaining her professional persona. “On a job this size, you’ll be my first priority. Simply let me know when you’re available, and my staff and I will be there. I want to make sure everything is perfect for your big day.” She pulled a manila folder from her bag and passed it to Sequoia. “If you would review and sign the agreement, we’ll get the process started.”

  Michael looked like he wanted to interject, but Carly shot him a look and shook her head the tiniest bit. She would offer him something to get him to concede later on, anything he wanted, so she could have the account. There was no way he needed the work as badly as she did. Besides, if the bride wasn’t on board, he had no chance of getting the job anyway.

  Sequoia’s pen hovered over the agreement. “I can’t wait to get started. I want to do the cake, maybe a dessert bar, probably something for the bridesmaids’ luncheon. I’m so glad we found you. I hadn’t thought about trying to find a couple to work on the cakes, but here you are. It feels right, you know? Like it’s meant to be. It’s going to be so great!”

  “You mean me and him?” Carly waggled a thumb between herself and Michael.

  Sequoia’s brow furrowed in confusion. Obviously the message that two companies were pitching during the same appointment hadn’t reached her. “Are you two not together?”