Taste of Romance

by Darlene Panzera

  “Kim’s been painting roses ever since she brought back that bouquet on Friday,” Andi teased. “And she’s been creating roses from frosting and rolled fondant for the tops of all our cupcakes, too. Just look at the display case.”

  Kim glanced toward the counter. It was true.

  Rachel looped an arm through hers. “I’m sorry I wasn’t much help the other day. Mike and I shouldn’t have been playing around in the kitchen. Let me see if I can help you discover Nathaniel’s motives for sending the bouquet. How many roses did he give you?”

  Kim shrugged. “Looks like two dozen.”

  “I read in a magazine the number of roses in a bouquet symbolizes different sentiments,” Rachel said and nodded to the flowers. “Count them.”

  Kim pulled her arm free of Rachel’s grasp and counted with her finger. “Twenty-four.”

  “Okay, you were right.” Rachel cocked her head. “But did you know that twenty-four roses means ‘thinking of you twenty-four hours a day’?”

  Kim laughed. “I doubt he meant to attach any hidden meaning.”

  “He must know the significance of the number of roses,” Rachel insisted. “He’s a rosarian.”

  “A what?”

  “A professional rose gardener,” Rachel amended.

  “How many roses were in the bouquet he gave you the other day?” Andi asked.

  Mia and Taylor raced over to the bouquet beside Kim’s easel in the back corner of the shop and began to rattle off numbers.

  “One-sun, two-blue, three-bee . . .”

  “Ninety, ten, eleven-teen, twelve . . .”

  Kim walked toward the vase. “Thirteen.”

  Rachel clapped her hands together. “Thirteen red roses means ‘secret admirer.’”

  “I think your magazine made that up, just like the romantic horoscopes they make up for people,” Kim said, touching one of the velvety soft rose petals with her finger.

  “Then why did Nathaniel send thirteen and not twelve?” Andi asked, coming to Rachel’s defense. “A dozen is traditional.”

  Kim frowned. “They were fresh cut. Maybe he overestimated.”

  Rachel waved her finger at her. “You just don’t want to admit he might be interested in you.”

  Kim shook her head and said, “I think these flowers are to thank me for giving him a good laugh, nothing more.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Andi scolded. “There’s someone out there for you.”

  Her sister’s words were meant to comfort, but instead they emphasized the fact she didn’t have anyone.

  “You should at least call and thank him,” Rachel said, handing her the phone.

  Kim froze. Rachel was right. She’d have to thank him. But then, what would she say to him? Argh. She was so bad at this. Making conversation with a stranger was bad enough, but worse when it was someone she was attracted to.

  Oh, no! Was she really attracted to him, or did she just find him attractive? Her hands trembled as she took the phone and punched in the number of the nursery on the card.

  Yes, he was attractive. And, yes, she was attracted to him, not only because of his height, blue eyes, and warm friendly accent, but because he was as much an artist with his flowers as she was with her paints. She also liked the way he humored her.

  The phone rang once . . . twice . . . three times . . . and then the message came on. Hearing his voice cross over the line as he instructed his callers to leave their name and number sent a nervous tremor of excitement up her spine.

  There was a beep, and she hesitated. “Uh . . . this is Kim, Kim Burke from Creative Cupcakes. I . . . uh . . . thank you for the roses. Now I guess I’m at one hundred and thirteen, plus twenty-four, that’s one hundred and thirty-seven. An odd number—”

  Another beep sounded, as if warning her to stop counting and hang up the phone. Why did she jabber on like that? She could kick herself! Instead she squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, her hope for a date with Nathaniel fading fast.

  However, the roses continued to come. And Rachel continued to interpret their meaning.

  On Tuesday, she received twenty roses, which meant “my feelings are sincere.”

  Wednesday, she received one single long-stemmed rose: “love at first sight.”

  Thursday, ten roses: “you are perfect.”

  Friday, seven roses: “I’m infatuated with you.”

  And Saturday, twelve roses: “be mine.”

  Each day, Kim called Sjölander’s Garden Nursery to thank him, but Nathaniel was never there. She continued to leave messages on his answering machine, and he continued to write short notes on the delivery tags. The last one read, “See you on Sunday.”

  Of course, that meant no sleep for her Saturday night. How could she sleep when the anticipation of seeing him and conversing face to face loomed less than twelve hours ahead? She tried to count sheep but ended up counting the hours and then minutes. The only problem was that he never told her exactly what time he would be arriving. Would he come to the cupcake shop? Or ask her to meet him after work?

  “No one sends roses to a woman every day unless he’s interested,” Rachel teased when they arrived for work at four on Sunday morning.

  Kim rubbed the sleep from her eyes and smiled. She was beginning to believe her.

  “Here come our new recruits!” Andi said, looking toward the front door.

  Kim followed her gaze. A tall, lanky college-age kid with scruffy hair like Shaggy on the cartoon TV series Scooby Doo had just walked in behind two teenage girls.

  “Rachel, Kim, I’d like you to meet Eric, Meredith, and Theresa.”

  Meredith had flaming red hair, far brighter, straighter, and shorter than Rachel’s. She also had sharp eyes like a hawk—eyes that seemed to assess each person, as if looking for the weakest prey.

  The other girl, Theresa, had blond hair so pale it made Andi’s look almost brown in comparison. This girl was also stick thin, whereas Andi had a few pounds to lose.

  Kim pressed her lips together. Looked like she was once again the outsider, the only one in the group who was a dark brunette.

  “I’m so excited you’ve decided to join our team here at Creative Cupcakes,” Andi said, greeting their new recruits. “Where’s Heather?”

  Heather walked in a second later, her eyes bloodshot and weary, her caramel hair a mess. “If we work here, are we always going to have to come in this early?”

  “We work in shifts,” Andi told her seventeen-year-old babysitter and her friends. “But, yes, some of us have to get here before dawn to bake all the cupcakes before we open at nine.”

  Rachel handed them each a pink bibbed apron to put on and a pink bandana to hold back their hair.

  “Pink?” Eric drew back. “You want me to wear pink?”

  “What would you suggest, Eric?” Andi asked, raising her brows.

  “Something more manly.” The boy looked down at the white T-shirt and pants Andi had instructed them to wear. “Can’t I just wear white?”

  Not if Andi had her way. Kim hid a smile and said, “I think we have a white apron in the kitchen closet.”

  Andi frowned. “What about his hair?”

  “He’d look silly in a pink bandana,” Rachel told her. “How about we have him wear a white baker’s hat?”

  “Okay,” Andi agreed. “Now, let’s split them up between us and show them what to do.”

  Andi took Eric and Theresa with her to give them a lesson on how to bake, and Rachel showed Heather the cash register, which, Kim realized, left the red-haired, hawk-eyed Meredith with her.

  “Have you ever decorated cupcakes before?” Kim asked.

  Meredith shrugged. “Of course. Hasn’t everyone?”

  “Well,” Kim continued, giving Red Hawk a direct look. “We specialize in intricate designs created out of different consistencies of frosting and fondant. Kids like cupcakes that look like animals and sports balls. Adults like scenes painted on with food coloring or sculpted like this rose gar
den here.”

  Kim pointed to her re-creation of Nathaniel’s yard. She’d joined together the tops of a dozen cupcakes with one layer of green icing and added walnut walkways and swirled vanilla roses of every color.

  “No problem,” Meredith said, her voice smug.

  But by the time Kim turned the front window sign around to indicate Creative Cupcakes was open for business, it was clear they were in a heap of trouble. Flour, sugar, baking soda, powdered cocoa, and a variety of nuts, berries, and other toppings spilled over every counter and all over the floor.

  Andi, who was OCD about kitchen safety, raced around in panic mode barking orders and trying to clean up before anyone slipped and fell.

  “This is worse than the kids’ cupcake camp on Tuesdays,” Rachel complained.

  Mia nodded. “My friends bake better than them. That girl,” she said, looking at Theresa, “put too many eggs in the batter and tried to scoop one back out with a spoon. I saw her.”

  Taylor pointed to Eric. “He wiped crumbs on the floor and tried to lick the batter.”

  “Are these kids always in here?” Eric asked, narrowing his gaze toward them.

  Heather laughed. “Yes, but you’ll love Mia and Taylor once you get to know them.”

  “Heather’s our favorite babysitter,” Mia told him. “You should listen to her.”

  Eric didn’t look convinced. “Can I drive the Cupcake Mobile? That would be cool.”

  “What would be cool is if you would stop talking and get busy sweeping,” Andi said, handing him a broom.

  “I can sweep,” Theresa volunteered and jumped up and down, her long ponytail swinging like a propeller and threatening every bakery item on the back shelf. When Rachel put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, the girl apologized.

  “It’s the sugar,” Theresa declared. “The sweetness hangs in the air, making me feel like I’ve had five cups of coffee!”

  Kim greeted the incoming customers, many of them children with their dads for Father’s Day. The buy-one-get-one-free Cupcakes with Dad coupons they’d distributed during the week appeared to be a success. Jake came in to share a cupcake with Taylor, and Kim knew Andi was touched he wanted to include Mia.

  Turning from their uniformed customer at the counter to the flaming redhead by her side, Kim asked, “Where’s the order you boxed for Officer Lockwell? Four maple bacon−pancake cupcakes?”

  Meredith threw up her hands. “Gone.”

  “What do you mean, ‘gone’?”

  The teenager looked at her as if she were stupid. “I mean, it’s not here.”

  “Could be the Cupcake Bandit,” Rachel suggested.

  “The Cupcake Bandit?” Eric’s eyes grew wide. “Can I try to catch him in the Cupcake Mobile?”

  “I think I’m having an allergic reaction to the sugar,” Theresa continued, her hair swinging out again and knocking a stack of cupcake boxes to the floor. “Oops!”

  “Isn’t she cute when she’s all wired up?” Eric asked with a grin. “Seriously,” he said to Theresa, “do you feel like you’re floating? Like drifting on a cloud of sugar in space?”

  “Andrea Leanne Burke,” Kim hissed, pulling her sister aside, “what were you thinking when you hired these people?”

  Andi grimaced. “Heather assured me her friends would be great, and none of them had a job.”

  “No wonder,” Kim said through gritted teeth.

  “Training takes time,” Andi coaxed.

  “Time we don’t have,” Kim reminded her and moved back to the register, where Officer Lockwell waited.

  “I phoned in the order at 7:30,” he told her. “Isn’t it ready?”

  “They were boxed, but our new trainees must have misplaced them. Unless someone from the station picked the order up for you.”

  “No one paid for it,” Andi said, opening a new box and placing his cupcakes inside. “This is the fourth order this week that has disappeared right off the counter. Seems we have a thief on our hands. You may have to patrol the shop more often, Officer Lockwell.”

  Their top cupcake supporter grinned. “I’d be glad to.”

  KIM DELIVERED A plate of cupcakes to a table in the dining area, spotted Grandpa Lewy, and motioned to Rachel.

  “Grandpa, I didn’t see you come in,” Rachel said, walking over to his table. “Would you like a cupcake?”

  “Of course!” he exclaimed. “Today is Cupcakes with Dad, and you said granddads were invited. Kim, if you let me be your dad today, I can get two cupcakes. And if Andi joins us, I can have three.”

  “Your doctors wouldn’t approve of your eating so many sweets,” Kim said, giving him a smile. “And our father just walked through the door.”

  William Burke sat on a stool at the cupcake counter and took the cupcake Andi offered him.

  “Happy Father’s Day,” Kim said, pouring him a cup of coffee. She glanced at her sister. “Did you tell him?”

  “Tell me what?” their father asked, giving them each a look.

  Andi’s face lit up as she held out her hand to show him her new ring. “Jake and I are engaged!”

  “After only three months?”

  Kim tensed as her father’s condescending tone hit its mark, and the joy on her sister’s face began to fade.

  “We love each other, and I know Jake’s right for me,” Andi said, lifting her chin.

  “Like the last one? Your deadbeat ex who ran off with his secretary to Vegas and left you and Mia high and dry?”

  “Dad!” Kim protested, but he waved a hand for her to stay silent and uninvolved.

  “Jake’s different,” Andi said, visibly struggling to keep her emotions intact. “I thought you liked Jake.”

  “He’s a likable fellow. But you are always rushing into things and getting yourself into trouble.” He shook his head. “Some things never change.”

  “And some things do,” Andi argued, her tone now matching their father’s and her face mirroring his cold, callous bitterness.

  Kim had watched similar scenes unfold between the two of them in the past but never with this much clarity. Her heart felt the sting of his words as if he’d spoken them to her, and she couldn’t keep silent, couldn’t bear to see her sister’s happiness crushed. She needed help.

  “Dad, Jake is a great guy and will take care of Andi and Mia and make them very happy.”

  “Was I talking to you?” her father demanded.

  Kim shrank back. “No, sir.”

  Andi shot her a look of gratitude for trying, but, like their father said, some things never changed. Least of all him.

  “Well, let’s hope everything works out,” he muttered. “Glad Kim here isn’t so crazy as to get involved with someone at the drop of a hat. She’s career focused, an achiever, like all the other Burkes in our family.”

  Kim swallowed hard. She didn’t want to be a super-achiever. And she certainly didn’t want him to use her as an example for her older sister to follow. Like Andi and Rachel, she’d love to have a handsome guy claim she was the one for him and get down on one knee and propose.

  She glanced at her bouquets of roses. While she wasn’t sure if she’d ever get a proposal of her own, she wished she had at least a taste of romance.

  Heather called out to her, “Hey, Kim!” Kim turned her head to see what the teenager wanted. And then she saw him: tall, blond, blue-eyed Nathaniel Sjölander. He stood at the counter opposite Heather, who motioned her toward him.

  Excusing herself from her “happy” family reunion, she met Nathaniel in front of the cupcake display.

  “Hello, Kimberly,” he greeted. “Busy today, I see.”

  “Yes,” she said, her nerves dancing beneath her skin. “Very busy.”

  “I was busy this week, too,” Nathaniel told her. “I had to stay in Portland after the Rose Festival, and when I got back yesterday, my future sister-in-law insisted I go with her and my brother for the bridal party tuxedo fittings. But I enjoyed hearing your voice on my messages each night.”
/>   Kim shrugged and gave him a shy smile. “All I did was say thank you.”

  “Five different ways each time,” he teased.

  Heat surged into her cheeks. She’d tried to talk sensibly, but her words were always more fluent inside her head than when they came out of her mouth. And it didn’t help now that Andi and Rachel were staring. She saw them give Nathaniel a long, appreciative perusal.

  Andi gasped. “Is that Nathaniel?”

  In a hushed voice, Rachel whispered back, “Ooh! Must be. He has an accent.”

  Even Heather, Theresa, and Meredith stopped what they were doing to take notice.

  “I was wondering if you aren’t too busy this evening, if you might want to—”

  A high-pitched alarm drowned out Nathaniel and all other sounds in the shop. The double doors to the kitchen burst open, and Eric fell through, his white pants and shirt outlined by the cloud of thick black smoke behind him. With his eyes wide and his face drained of color, he shouted only one word:

  “Fire!”

  For a moment no one moved. Then all at once, the customers rushed for the door. Andi shouted for Mia and grabbed the Cupcake Diary off the counter. Rachel yanked the cash drawer out of the register.

  Kim’s breath caught in her chest, and her throat tightened into a chokehold. Then she exchanged a tense half-second look with Nathaniel and spun her gaze toward each wall, which were adorned with her prize-winning paintings.

  She’d never save them in time.

  Chapter Four

  * * *

  We are shaped and fashioned by what we love.

  —Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

  KIM RAN TO the wall and tried to lift a painting off its hook, but she was too short. Before she could grab a chair to stand on, two long arms reached over her head and took the artwork down for her.

  Nathaniel.

  “I’ll get these,” he said, taking a second and third painting off the wall. “Go for the lower ones.”

  Kim shot him a look of gratitude. “I can’t replace them. They’re one-of-a-kind originals.”