Baked With Love 2

by Tina Martin

  “Alright, Gianna…just make a run for it.” She reached for the door handle and when she was just about to open the door, she saw a white SUV pull up next to her. Peering through the water-spotted window, she recognized the SUV as Ramsey’s Range Rover. She saw the headlights go off so he must’ve turned off the engine but she couldn’t tell. The rain was hissing too loud, thunder clapping angrily.

  Still looking at the SUV, she watched him walk around it and towards her with a large umbrella – like one of those top-grade, heavy duty, Weather Channel umbrellas that meteorologists use when they’re on storm chasing assignments. He pulled the door handle, opening her door.

  “You look like you need to be rescued,” he said, holding the umbrella with his left hand and extending his right hand to help her out of the vehicle.

  She could only smile. He was like a real-life guardian angel. He knew what she needed without her having to ask and somehow always managed to pop up at the right time.

  Taking his hand, she said, “Yes, I do need to be rescued from this rain, but what are you doing here, Ramsey?”

  “Rescuing you,” he said, holding her hand securely in his. When she was standing next to him, he pushed the door closed behind her, and he continued holding her hand until they were at the back entrance of the bakery.

  Gianna unlocked the door while Ramsey shielded her from the rain with his massive umbrella. Then she stepped inside. He stepped partially inside, lowered the umbrella, leaving it dripping by the back door. Then he walked further inside, into Gianna’s office where she had placed her purse in a desk drawer, locked it and sat down, looking at her computer.

  Ramsey leaned against the door frame, nearly filling the height of it. For a moment, he just watched her. Admired her in her element. Behind her desk, preparing to get to work.

  Gianna could feel him staring, and something told her not to look up at him but she did so anyway, watching his slender lips curve to an out-of-this-world smile. She looked away, positioning her right hand on the computer mouse to open a new window – one in which she could check the cupcake of the day rotation. Still, she could feel the warm beams of his eyes on her.

  “How did everything go with Harriet this morning?”

  “Fine.” Gianna checked the calendar. Cookies and cream cupcakes were in line to be the special for the day.

  “Fine, and that’s it?” he asked.

  His question shifted her thoughts from cookies and cream to chocolate. To him. “Yes. Harriet was eager to start and Gemma is happy that Harriet’s there to take some of the pressure off of me.”

  “That’s good, right?” he asked, grimacing just barely as he tried to read her, hoping he’d pleased her with hiring Harriet. He couldn’t quite determine if he had just yet.

  “Right.” Gianna looked away from her computer screen to glance up at him. Jeez. He looked extra good this morning for some reason. Maybe it was the way the black Polo seemed to amplify his muscles, firm pectorals and overall athletic form. Or it could’ve been those faded gray jeans he wore with quilted paneling on the knees and gold zippers lining the pockets. Then again, it might’ve been the fact that he smelled so good and fresh and was wearing some cologne that had hypnotic power. Who was she kidding? It was a combination of all of those things. He just had it like that, whatever it was. Swagger. That’s what it was.

  She watched his lips form into a killer-sexy smile, then remembered she’d been staring at him – probably the reason he was smiling. “Ramsey, what are you doing here?”

  “I thought I’d come by and help you out today.”

  “Help me do what?”

  “Work.”

  She shook her head. Cracked a smile. “You don’t have to help me work. You said you took time off of your job. I know you didn’t do that because of me. You did it because you needed a break. Am I right?”

  “Yes. You’re right.”

  “Okay, so go take you break. Relax. Go on a Caribbean cruise or something.”

  “I’ll go if you come with me.”

  Gianna blushed, then shook her head. “Okay…let me try this another way. Rainy days are generally slow for the cupcake business and I only have two catering orders today.”

  “Then, I’ll help you out with that, and do some other things around here that I think could use some improvement.”

  “She lifted a brow. Excuse me?”

  “No offense, sweetness, but there are some changes that need to be made.”

  “I like my shop just the way it is, thank you very much. How would you like for me to roll up to St. Claire Architects and tell you everything I don’t like? Or better yet, how about I drop in on one of your construction projects and tell the workers to follow my orders instead of yours?”

  “They wouldn’t listen to you.”

  “Thanks for saying that ‘cause I’m not listening to you. I like my bakery.” She looked at her computer screen again.

  Ramsey raised his brows, then left her office. He walked into the kitchen area of the bakery, looking around as if he was inspecting the place. Then he walked out to the front counter where the cash register sat and the display case. Again, he looked around, taking mental notes of everything he thought this place was missing. Maybe Gianna was too busy to actually consider those things. Or she was probably too close to the bakery to know what sort of things she was missing. But being that this wasn’t his element, he could think outside of the box and while he didn’t know how to make cupcakes, he did know how to run a business. And he felt that it was his duty to bring certain things to her attention.

  When he heard her moving around in the kitchen, he went there watching her set a large silver bowl on the counter. “What’s on tap for today?”

  Wearing her black apron and hair net, she said, “I have to get started on the regular cupcakes first.”

  “Regular…which ones are those?”

  She took another large bowl from the bottom rack of a metal shelf. “Chocolate and vanilla.”

  “Do you mind if I watch?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Gianna asked.

  “You do if my watching would make you nervous…”

  “Everything about you makes me nervous.”

  “Why?”

  “Hunh?” she asked, looking at him.

  “You said everything about me makes you nervous,” Ramsey told her.

  “O-M-G…I thought I said that in my head. I didn’t know I said it out loud. Jeez.”

  “It’s no problem. I can do something else, if—”

  “No, don’t worry about it,” Gianna said. “Have you ever cooked anything in your life?”

  “Yes. I cooked Ramen noodles way back in college.”

  Gianna laughed. “Microwaved Ramen noodles doesn’t qualify as cooking.”

  “I had to stir it, too. Does that count for something?” He offered a short laugh.

  “In other words, I got my hands full with you.”

  “Yes, and I’m all yours. Teach me, baby.”

  Baby? When did she become his baby? She pulled in a breath and said, “Okay so to make vanilla cupcakes, I need to mix flour, baking powder and kosher salt together first. Why don’t you get my other apron so you don’t get your clothes dirty?”

  “It’s cool. I don’t mind getting dirty. What do you want me to do? Stir this?”

  “Yes, and I’ll start on the next mixture—unsalted butter, granulated sugar, eggs and vanilla extract.” Gianna used the mixer to blend the ingredients then said, “Okay, in a moment, I’ll need you to add half of the flour mixture. Okay?”

  “Yep. Got it.”

  She allowed the mixture to blend for another thirty seconds or so then said, “Okay. Pour half of the flour mix in here.”

  “Alright. Easy enough.” Ramsey tilted the bowl, pouring the mixture in, looking at her the entire time he was doing so, enjoying the feeling of being this close to her. Of her sharing her work with him.

  “Okay. That’s good,” she said, her eyes landing on h
is lips. “Next, I’ll add a…a little whole milk—” She poured in the milk. “And now, you can pour the rest of the flour mix in.”

  After doing so, he said, “That wasn’t all that difficult.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s just a certain order I like to follow when making cupcakes.”

  “I see.”

  “Since I showed you how to do this, does that mean I get a private lesson on architecture?”

  “If you would like. You can get anything you want from me, Gianna.” And he meant it. She could get anything, have anything, take anything and do anything as long as she knew she was his. Unfortunately, she didn’t know that yet.

  “Ramsey, can you grab two of the cupcake pans and those paper liners?” she asked, pointing to where the materials were.

  “Sure.” He set the pans on the counter close to the cupcake batter. “Should I go ahead and line them?”

  “Look at you knowing what to do in advance,” she said. “Yes, you can line them. That will help me out greatly.”

  He proceeded with filling each twelve-tray cupcake pan with liners.

  Gianna went to find a couple of ice cream scoops since it was the easiest tool for her to fill the cupcake liners with batter. As he finished lining the pans, she handed him an ice cream scoop and said, “You do that pan. I’ll do this one, and this part is very important. Only fill each liner three-fourths of the way and make sure to put the same amount of batter in each liner so they all cook evenly Got it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Sorry. Do I sound bossy?”

  “You do, and I like it. I’m quickly learning that there are so many different sides to you, Ms. Jacobsen.”

  “Not really.”

  “Yes. Really. I can see them.”

  “If you say so, Ramsey.”

  Once they both completed the pans, Gianna slid them into the heated oven. “What time is it?” she asked him.

  “It’s 8:45 a.m.”

  “Okay. I need to work on the cupcake of the day.”

  “Which is?”

  “Cookies and cream.”

  “Ooh. I haven’t tried one of those yet.”

  “Then you’ll get to try one today.”

  “I can’t wait,” he said, looking towards the front of the restaurant again. “Gianna, do you have one of those neon, electric ‘Open’ signs?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t think I need one.”

  “Well, I think you do. In fact, I know you do.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “When people are walking pass you bakery, they need some visual indication that you’re open without relying on the small-printed hours of operation on your door. So you whip up those cupcakes. I’ll be back.”

  “Where are you going?” she felt inclined to ask. His presence electrified her in every way, but it felt nice to have someone there with her in the morning, helping her prep for the day. By the way he looked at her, she could tell he was surprised she’d asked. Had he heard the desperation in her voice?

  “I’m going to grab some things you need.”

  “I don’t need anything, Ramsey.”

  With a sparkle in his eyes, he replied, “I’ll be right back, sweetness.”

  “Okay.”

  * * *

  While Ramsey was away, Gianna unlocked the door since she opened for business at nine. She went back to the kitchen to put two dozen chocolate cupcakes in the oven – the chocolate ones for the cookies and cream frosting then focused on her catering orders – four-dozen red velvet cupcakes for one order and two-dozen, vanilla with buttercream frosting topped with sprinkles for the other. She even whipped up the frostings she would need – crushed Oreos with cream cheese, chocolate buttercream, plain cream cheese and regular white frosting.

  The red velvet and plain vanilla cupcakes were in the oven now and while she waited for them to bake, she began frosting the two dozen that Ramsey had helped her prepare earlier. She put them in the display case and then, walking over to the coffee station, she brewed a canister of decaf and regular.

  When her phone rang, she jumped. Ramsey had unnerved her but he wasn’t even there. What did she have to be so jumpy about?

  She rushed to her office to get the cordless, thinking that it could’ve been Harriet. Was something wrong with Gemma?

  She snatched the phone from the base to see that the caller was Felicity.

  “Hey,” she answered breathily.

  “Um…Gianna?”

  “Yeah. It’s me.”

  “Why do you sound like you’re out of breath?”

  “Because I am. I thought you were…were Harriet,” she said huffing for air.

  “Who’s Harriet?”

  “Gemma’s new nurse.”

  “Gemma has a nurse?”

  “Yes. Today’s her first day and I’m a little nervous about it.”

  “Well, I think that’s great,” Felicity said. She somehow knew Ramsey had something to do with Gemma having a nurse. It still baffled her that he was the man Gianna had gone out with. They were complete and total opposites. She couldn’t fathom Gianna having to deal with a man like him – a man with all the confidence and intelligence in the world. Arrogance on fleek. “How is Gemma by the way?” Felicity asked.

  “She’s…um…I took her to the doctor on Monday. She’s on a new medication now since the chemo didn’t work.”

  “The chemo isn’t working?”

  “No,” Gianna said. “And her hair is shedding so bad. I don’t think she’s going to make it much longer, Felicity.”

  “Don’t say that, Gianna. You have to think positive. Even when you’re in a bad situation that you can’t see your way out of—you still have to think positive.”

  “I know. I’m trying. Anyway, I don’t want to be up in here crying, so what about you? How are you doing? It feels like it’s been ages since we’ve seen each other.”

  Felicity chuckled. “Yeah, and it’s only been a week.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yes, girl, but I’m doing okay. I do have a dilemma on my hands though.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ll tell you more about it on Friday. Let’s make a cupcake breakfast date. I’ll be there say around nine-ish. Will that work?”

  “Yeah. That’ll be cool.”

  “Perfect. I’ll see you on Friday, then.”

  “Okay. Hey, I gotta go. I hear the doorbell.”

  “Later, girlfriend.”

  “Later.” Gianna placed her phone on the desk and walked to the front. Her mouth dropped open in disbelief.

  “Like it?” Ramsey asked, holding a huge, neon-orange ‘Open’ sign. “I think it should hang facing the sidewalk. What do you think?”

  “Ramsey, you shouldn’t have.”

  “I hired a couple of guys to install it today. I think I can handle the other stuff myself.”

  “What other—?”

  And he was out the door…

  When he came back inside, he had a black chalkboard in his hand and a box of chalk in the other. He placed the items on the counter, went back outside and returned with a full crate of two percent milk in small cartons and a large mason jar that was about the size of a gallon milk jug.

  “Ramsey, what is all this?”

  “Things I think your bakery needs. I have a chalkboard so you can easily write the cupcake of the day special from day to day. I brought some milk because a lot of people don’t like coffee and may want something besides water with their cupcakes—especially the kids. And the mason jar is for tips. Since you refuse to get one, I took the liberty of buying one myself.”

  “But—”

  “You work hard, Gianna. You deserve to be tipped. You deserve a whole lot more but we’ll stick to the tips for now.”

  And she thought her mind was blown before…

  Gianna swallowed deeply. “Uh…thank you.”

  “You’re welcom
e,” he said removing a pink, polka dot tag from his pocket that read tips. “Do you have any tape around here?”

  “All I have is duct tape.”

  “That should work.”

  She was still standing there and hadn’t moved an inch when he said, “Where is it?”

  “Oh! I’ll get it.”

  “Just tell me where it is and I’ll go get it.”

  “Be right back,” Gianna said, taking off. She walked to her office, found the tape in her desk drawer – not sure why it was there, but whatever – then returned to the front. She noticed Ramsey had already hung up the beautiful chalk display board and had written the word welcome at the very top of it. And he actually drew a picture of a cupcake that brought a smile to her face. Who would’ve ever thought the millionaire architect would know how to draw a cupcake? Well, he did design buildings for a living. Drawing was right up his alley, or was everything computerized nowadays?

  “How does it look?” he asked.

  Gianna came out of her thoughts and blinked back to reality. “It looks good. I like that little cupcake you drew on there.”

  He smiled, pleased with the glow of happiness on her face. “Do you?”

  “Yes. You can actually draw.”

  He looked at the chalkboard. “Well, more like sketch. Every building I design, I sketch by hand first to give the client a visual of what they’ve expressed to me that they wanted.”

  “Neat,” she said, still looking at the chalkboard. “I have to admit, this is a good idea, Ramsey. My head is always in a cloud of flour. I don’t have the time to think about things like this.”

  “Well, that’s why I’m here.”

  She looked at him, held his gaze and tried to fight the smile that fought to force its way to her face. She lost that battle and was even blushing now.

  Ramsey saw the moment her face flushed and instead of staring any longer, he took a pink chalk and wrote: Cupcake of the Day. Beneath it, he wrote: Cookies & Cream $3.99/each.

  “Wait…my cupcakes are $2.95.”

  “And in my opinion, underpriced. If you want to keep the regular cupcakes priced at $2.95, fine. But the cupcake of the day is a specialty cupcake that should be priced accordingly.”