The Baker's Touch

by W. Lynn Chantale

  Penelope swallowed a giggle. “You’re upset over coffee?”

  “A girl needs her caffeine. The earlier the better.”

  “I’m in total agreement with that, but it sounds like you need more than java. You need a double shot.”

  “More like a double barreled shotgun. Don’t start with me, Penelope. It’s bad enough Moira left a message about washing machine sex.”

  Now she did laugh. “I knew it!”

  A chuckle drifted through the line. “I know, I know. Wonder if it was during the spin cycle.”

  A slow hiss, like steam being released filled the remaining silence.

  “You’re at the coffee shop?”

  “Jeez, P. You don’t miss a trick. Now this bank thing...focus on what’s important.”

  “You already took care of that. Now my focus is coffee. You. Upset. Coffee guy must be flirting with you again.” Rustling clothes and the quiet squeak of a chair filled the momentary silence.

  “Penelope, I promise if you mention my love life one more time I’ll send your parents pictures from our trip to Mardi Gras. I’m sure they’d love to see those.”

  She sucked in a breath. Her cheeks flamed just dredging up that very fuzzy memory of beads and sexy men from freshman year. “So what’s the problem?”

  Violet chuckled. “Much better.”

  Penelope rubbed her temple. First Sam. Now this? “Thanks, Violet.”

  “It was a pretty juvenile attempt. Woulda worked too if they hadn’t had to put in another password.” Metallic scraping screeched through the line. “For God’s sake, what is he doing here?”

  “Who?”

  More scraping and then rustling. Raised voices echoed through earpiece. “Oh, this is going to get ugly and fast. I’ll call you later. Oh. Wait. You find your mystery man yet?”

  “No, but he’s still leaving me gifts.”

  “Sweet.” A loud crash echoed through the line. “Later.”

  Penelope lowered the handset. Why did she have the sneaking suspicion that Sam was behind the attempted theft?

  ****

  Forty-five minutes later Penelope eased into fragrant, swirling water. She sank into her bath all the way to her chin and leaned her head against the bath pillow. A long sigh escaped her lips as the tension drained from her limbs. The jets buffeted her body and she inhaled the sweet scent of lavender and mint.

  She lifted one hand from the water and carefully slid her fingers along the lip of the tub until she found her glass of wine. She raised the flute to her lips. The cool fruity liquid splashed over her tongue and trickled down her throat.

  With each swallow she let go of the stresses of her day. The door was repaired. Business would resume as usual. Sam was his usual asinine self. How dare he show up at her house. She sipped more wine, savoring the slightly mellow flavor. Other than the gifts, one of which she was enjoying at the moment, her mind fluttered to Avery.

  Oh, she still thought about her mystery man, but Avery was always there for her, looking out for her well being. Even when she scratched her head. He didn’t have to treat the wound with the care he had, but he did. He reminded her so much of her New Year’s Eve dance partner.

  And then he said two magic words: Be still. Just replaying that moment made her nipples stiff and desire pulse between her legs. Once the thought took hold it was hard to dislodge. She set her now empty glass down with a snap.

  She so wanted to ask him if he’d punish her if she moved again, but it didn’t quite seem appropriate. Still, his melodious voice echoed in her head, replacing that of her mystery man’s hoarse whisper. She drifted her hands down her body, pretending they were Avery’s.

  Her nipples stood erect just above the swirling water. Cool air racing over the taut peaks provided a sensual contrast of eroticism. She grazed her palm over the tip, savoring the spark zinging from tit to clit. There she lingered, building her desire until a sigh parted her lips. One hand dipped below the surface to delve into her folds. She allowed her legs to fall open, her knees resting against the tub walls as she traced her swollen nether lips.

  She circled her clit before plunging a finger in her tight channel. It had been way too long since she had sex or even given herself special attention. Between the relaxing scent of lavender, the heated embrace of the water and the glass of wine she welcomed this bit of self love.

  She alternated between the taut peaks of her breasts tugging and twisting the sensitive nips while stroking and pushing at her clit. She added another finger, her hips moving with each thrust of her hand.

  Her soft moans echoed off the tiles and were lost in the hum of the jets. Tension coiled in her stomach, waiting for release. She shifted in the tub, and pressurized water drifted over her mound. She left her breasts long enough to reposition the spray to hit her sensitized bud with each roll of her hips.

  Sweat beaded on her forehead and rolled down her face. She used both hands now, three fingers pumped inside her pussy while she rolled that hardened bundle of nerves with the other. Water sloshed over the side of the tub as she moved faster. Her world narrowed to the silvery sensations rippling through her body and then she was sliding. Ecstasy washed over her as starlight burst behind her lids. She cried out as her orgasm crashed over her. Her pussy clenched and pulsed around her fingers. She gentled her strokes, riding the climax as long as she could, then drifted on a wave of bliss.

  Chapter Four

  Two days until Valentine’s Day and Penelope wasn’t sure if she was excited or dreading the holiday. Maybe dreading it a little. The holiday was for lovers and sweethearts and she had neither this year. Well, not entirely true. Someone was sending her little gifts and love notes.

  She clutched the smooth handle of the spatula in her fist and gritted her teeth. On the ride in, her driver, James, gabbed incessantly about his plans with his wife. She was happy for him—them—but she didn’t want to hear anything more about Valentine’s Day because that only increased her anxiety about who was sending her the anonymous gifts.

  And someone who knew her was sending them. How else would they know to put the cards in Braille? Gifts aside, she still had a business to run and after all the confusion yesterday, she’d forgotten one of the orders for today.

  Cold air swirled around her ankles as a door scraped closed. Soft shoes slapped against the hard cement floor and Penelope lifted her head, listening. Hinges squeaked and she caught the whiff of a woodsy cologne.

  A smile teased her lips and she fumbled for the damp towel she’d placed on her work station. Gentle hands covered hers a moment before the towel settled in her right palm.

  “What are you doing here so early?”

  Penelope wiped her hands, using the time to savor the low timbre of her assistant, Avery’s voice. Lately, listening to his dulcet tones conjured satin sheets and steamy bubble baths. Heat crept into her cheeks. Definitely baths.

  “I came in to work on paperwork and realized we’d forgotten an order for ten dozen chocolate covered cherries.”

  “So you thought you’d start without me?” A teasing note clung to his question.

  “Then you should get in a little earlier.” The towel was removed from her hand and something small and rectangular landed in its place.

  “Right. I found this sticking out of the mailbox this morning.”

  She turned the object over in her hand, running her fingertips over the smooth wrapping before she encountered a narrow strip of cloth. Not cloth, ribbon. It felt like a jewelry box, but who would send her that kind of gift? Her birthday was still several months away.

  “Are you sure this is for me? It feels like a present and well...”

  “Give me your finger.”

  Without hesitation she complied. Avery guided her digit to a stiff tag and raised dots.

  “What does it say?” He pressed closer, the heat of his body and the spicy scent of his cologne enveloped her, momentarily distracting her from the box in her hand.

  She bit her lip as pleas
ure stole through her. “It has my name on it, but not who it’s from.”

  “Well, then, open it.”

  Curiosity piqued, Penelope carefully peeled away the ribbon and paper to the slightly ridged box beneath. She still found it a little disconcerting that someone thought enough about her to send an anonymous gift. Delight stole through her. Probably one of her regular customers.

  The wrapping was plucked from her fingers so she could concentrate on prying open the lid. Once removed, she encountered a small metal square and tiny blunted spike. She followed it over the textured leather to an oblong face. Raised numbers greeted her fingertips while ticking reached her ears.

  “A watch?” She couldn’t keep the awe from her voice. “Someone sent me a watch?”

  “Looks like it. Oh, check this out.” He grabbed her finger and placed it over a tiny button.

  A mechanical voice announced the time. “A talking watch!” She giggled. This was the best thing ever, especially since her other one broke. “This is so great. Is there a card inside?” She proffered the box.

  Scratching and then silence. “Nothing, P. Your secret admirer really likes you.”

  She snorted. “I highly doubt that, but it would be nice to know who sent me the watch, just so I can thank the person.”

  “Oh wait. Here’s something.” Avery pushed stiff paper in her hand. “It’s in Braille.”

  Penelope skimmed her fingers over the card. Her brow knitted. “This can’t be right.”

  “Why? What does it say?”

  “Someone went through a lot of trouble to do this.” She shook her head. “You don’t just switch the keyboard to type little dots. It’s a special machine or at least a tool. And this watch? It’s not something you pick up from the local Fossil store. It has to be ordered.”

  He chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You, Penelope. Can’t you just enjoy a random anonymous gift?” He grabbed her wrist and settled the watch on her arm. The metal was cold as it touched her skin. The slide of his fingers on her flesh sent shivers of awareness down her spine.

  “This isn’t random. First the note, then the bath stuff. Now this? I just want to know who sent it.”

  “Does the card say anything?”

  “All will be revealed on Valentine’s Day.”

  “Well, then there’s your answer.”

  She shook her head as he lowered her arm. Now she felt a bit bereft without his touch. “I just...” She sighed. “Want to know. What if it’s from Sam?”

  Avery coughed. “I doubt he’d ever put that much thought into anyone or anything but himself.”

  A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth at the edge in Avery’s voice. “You never said you didn’t like him.”

  “Maybe if I’d met Sam in a different place, we’d hang out, but I didn’t like the way he treated you. Especially after...” He coughed. “Well, after what you told me.”

  Penelope nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.”

  Avery touched her hand. “You’re better off without him.” He threaded her arm through his and led her through the double doors back to her office. “I believe you have some invoices requiring your attention.”

  She paused on the threshold, sniffing. The scent of something sweet and exotic reached her nostrils and she inhaled appreciatively. “Is there someone else here?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I smell perfume.”

  He led her to the desk and placed her hand on the edge. She ran her fingers over the surface until she reached something cold and bubbled. Not bubbled, beveled, like glass. She followed the cool exterior to the wide rim. Something tickled her wrist and she flinched. God, she hoped it wasn’t a bug, but she wasn’t going to go all girl, not with Avery standing a few feet behind her.

  A heavy sigh eased from her lips. Not a bug, thank goodness, but fronds and leaves. Farther upward and she touched petals, she circled her finger around the tight bloom and brought one to her nose. Yes, this was the source of the perfume. So beautiful.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “What color are they?”

  “Some are pink and others are a peachy-red. The one in your hand is pink, though.”

  His voice sounded a bit gruff to her ears, but she dismissed it as she felt for the plastic spindle normally associated with flowers. Finding none, she gave up.

  “Is there a card?”

  “On the vase.”

  She found the card. This one was also in Braille. Until tonight, Your Secret Admirer.

  “You’re closing with me tonight, right?” She couldn’t quite keep the nervous quiver from her voice.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “This card says my secret admirer will be here tonight.”

  “Friend or foe, I’ll protect you.”

  She nodded. “Hey, Avery.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for everything. I know it can’t be easy working with me all the time.”

  “No, but you do keep things interesting. I’m leaving now.”

  She listened to the soft slap of his shoes as he walked away. For the first time since she lost her vision she wished she could see his butt. Because she knew he had to have a great butt to go along with his biceps.

  She shook herself. She had no business thinking about her assistant in such a way. Yet it would be interesting to see what he looked like, even if only with her fingertips.

  That brought another matter. Who was sending her these gifts?

  ****

  The hum of voices filled the air and blended with the whirl of the commercial mixer, punctuated by intermittent shrill of oven timers.

  “I just took out the last batch of cupcakes for that order. We’ve still got six more trays of cookies working,” Shay said as she breezed by. “Stay still, P. Putting a hot tray on the cooling rack.”

  Penelope nodded and stepped forward. Heat flared at her back then on her right side near her cheek. A squeak of wheels signaled that the long cooling rack was being pushed away from her work station.

  “You do know it’s been a year since I walked into that rack,” she pointed out.

  “You walked into a ladder yesterday. So I’m not taking any chances,” Shay said. She stood next to Penelope a moment. “I swear you can see something. There are award-winning pastry chefs who can’t do what you do with two eyes and glasses.”

  She laughed and continued scooping chocolate into waiting forms. These little truffle delights were going on the cupcakes that were just pulled from the oven. Along with a decadent icing and chocolate ganache. A true decadent treat on Valentine’s Day.

  “Will these get the little chocolate curls?”

  “Nope, just the truffles and icing. Avery will do the little detail work.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Your vision.”

  Penelope set down her scoop. “Only when I’m really feeling sorry for myself. Other than that, no.”

  “What about what you look like or a sunset or some hottie?”

  She faced her co-worker. “What’s up? Why all the questions about my vision?”

  “I...” She heard the hesitation in her voice. “Well...”

  “Are you having problems?”

  “Not at the moment, but eyes are a funny thing. One minute they’re fine and the next they glaze over. Someone else has to drive me around. The last time I drove, my vision totally gave out.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, Shay. It’s been so long since I lost my sight I don’t even think about it anymore. It’s become a part of who I am. And my life is quite full.” She grinned. “I own this bakery, have friends, go out, date and such.”

  “And you’re not angry?”

  “No, only when something stupid happens like I walk into a door or someone tries to take advantage of me.” Penelope rested a hand on the table. “I can give you the name of my counselor. She was very helpful with everything I needed.”

  “This might sound s
tupid, but you’re not going to fire me, are you?”

  “Wow. Then those rumors of me being heartless would be true.”

  Shay laughed. “I told you it was stupid.”

  “Not stupid. It’s a valid question and one you never have to worry about here. Well, unless you start smuggling products out the back door or stealing from the cash register.”

  “Penelope, there’s someone here to see you,” a voice called from the front.

  “Keep me posted and let the rest of the staff know. We’re real supportive around here.” She peeled off her gloves, walked to the sink and washed her hands. “I’m wanted now.” She pulled her cane from her pocket. With a flick of her wrist it extended and she continued through the maze of tables and through the half double doors to the front.

  The tip of her cane met an obstruction. She paused, the doors smacking her butt on their outward swing. She moved upward until her hand touched the display case.

  A hand covered hers and she went still. “Hi,” she greeted. Not sure who touched her, but it was definitely a large hand, a man’s hand if she was right.

  “You’re looking radiant, as always, Penelope.”

  A tremor stole through her and she snatched her hand away. She firmed her lips at the deep voice. Again? “Sam, what are you doing here?”

  “You sound like you’re still a little peeved. Is there somewhere we can talk? In private?”

  Warm musk enveloped her before a hand slid down the curve of her spine and settled at the small of her back. “Everything okay?”

  Penelope half turned. “Avery? You remember Sam?”

  “I do.”

  The chill in her assistant’s voice was unmistakable.

  “The assistant, right?”

  “Right,” Avery said. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Just a private place to chat with Penny here.”

  Penelope shuddered at the hated nickname. She never would understand why he insisted on calling her that. With one hand on the display case and her cane in the other she followed around the furniture to the end, then pushed open the waist-high half door.