A Taste of Trouble

by Gina Gordon

  The camera had zeroed in on a woman's face. Creamy, flawless cheeks led to moist, plump lips. Straight teeth held tight her bottom lip in a seductive manner, as if trying to contain a moment of bliss. They were her lips. The other night, while Liv pleasured herself, Jake captured the moment and left this for her as a gift.

  She grabbed the picture and walked with it to her bedroom. Without even changing her clothes or washing off the makeup from her tear-stained face, Liv cuddled with the frame. She traced the line of her lips with her finger, imagining it was Jake's finger caressing her.

  He had lied. He had spent so much energy trying to convince her that he was nothing like the man she spent her whole life trying to avoid. With one simple decision, Jake tore her world apart. Just like her father. And she had walked away. Just like her father.

  She thought back to Jake's comment about becoming Vice President and everything came into focus. She was nothing but a means to an end. He hadn't cared about her, he just felt guilty. He'd gotten what he wanted, and she had fallen for every one of his lines. All she had to do now was mend her broken heart. Easier said than done.

  Then there was Nancy. That was the more important situation.

  She pushed the frame off the bed and it hit the ground. The crack of the glass was the last thing she heard before she drifted off to sleep.

  …

  It took everything Jake had not to chase after her. Liv had made it pretty clear that she was done. His efforts had been for nothing. But then again, what did he expect? He was a liar. And she had every right to blow him off.

  People walked in and out of the hotel around him, oblivious to the fact that his heart had just been broken. He watched happy couples arm in arm laughing and smiling and he envied them. He'd really thought that Liv was the real thing. He'd really thought that despite his lie, they would persevere. But he needed answers. And whether he liked it or not, Shelton was going to tell him everything.

  When Jake re-entered the ballroom, the party was still going strong. Music played in the background, but the steady buzz of chatter seemed to dissipate the farther he walked into the room. His boss stood in the middle of a group—of course, the center of attention. He was always the center of attention.

  He sidled up behind Shelton. “I need to speak with you. Right now.”

  The rest of the group focused their attention on him while his boss's head lowered a few inches. Only a few. Not enough to admit that there was something going on between them.

  “If you'll excuse us. I won't be a minute.” Shelton grabbed his shoulder and led him to the corner of the large event space. “Just what do you think you're doing? This is a work function, and I would appreciate if you would keep your childish tone to yourself.”

  “It seems you're the one who doesn't know what they're doing. You're the one who started the scene.”

  Shelton leaned closer. “You've done what I asked you to do. Your job is done.”

  “Is that all you care about?” Jake pointed. Liv hadn't confirmed his suspicion, but Shelton was going to. Right now. “Tell me the truth. She's…your daughter.” He managed to get the two words out between heavy breaths.

  “Yes. She's my daughter.”

  He'd never been in a fight, but he imagined this is what it felt like to get punched in the gut. This man that he'd admired for so many years ignited a rage so strong, he was willing to give it all up. “You're the one who left her. You left, and she never heard from you again.”

  “I—”

  Jake stilled Shelton's words with a raised hand. He didn't even want an explanation. “Do you have any idea how closed off she is? Because of you.” He jabbed his finger sharply in Shelton's chest. “How could you not tell me she was your daughter?”

  “Why do you care so much? Did you…?”

  Jake felt the guilt slip over his face like a mask. “You manipulated me into doing your dirty work.” Shelton took a step forward, but Jake's words stopped him in his tracks. “You left her mother and her to struggle on their own. You're a selfish bastard.”

  He'd just spent the last three weeks trying to convince Liv that he wasn't her father. The person she despised most in the world. And what did he do? He delivered the man right to her without even knowing it.

  He had been so blind. He had looked up to his boss. Or at least, he used to. Now, all he saw was a washed-up old man trying to live the life of a twenty-year-old.

  “She rejected you.” Jake shook his head in disbelief, remembering his boss's justification for Jake's tactics. “At least now you know where you stand,” Jake continued. “She ran at the sight of you.”

  “That she did.” Robert shoved his hands in the pockets of his suit. “The promotion is yours. You did as I asked.”

  His promotion. The thing he wanted most in the world. Until he met Liv. He did everything he could to ensure he would get both, have his cake and eat it, too. But his plan backfired. “I don't want it.” He didn't even have to think twice at his decision. “I quit.”

  “Jake, you can't be serious. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. You'll be my second in command.” Shelton seemed to think he was bluffing. But how could he work for a man he no longer respected?

  “I know.” And he didn't care. “I thought it was something that I wanted, but your daughter, she changed that.”

  “You've fallen for her.” He didn't pose it as a question.

  If it had been, the answer would have been a resounding yes. He had fallen head over heels in love with the woman who now hated his guts.

  “I'll clean out my desk.” Jake walked through the ballroom, aware that the crowd stared. Before he pushed through the doors, he caught the eye of his assistant, Maggie. She knew it without even having to ask. Maggie had been his better half for the last two years. Instead of going home to a wife or girlfriend who knew him inside out, it was his assistant who knew what he liked in his coffee, where he sent his dry cleaning. She could tell when he was lying or fighting off a cold.

  Liv had opened his eyes, made him a believer. That love he'd been told about did exist. That deep down, all-consuming, electric feeling that he'd felt only once.

  Now, he would suffer the consequences. The pain. The emotional turmoil that came with losing someone you loved.

  Jake had lost his only shot at true love. It was dead and buried the minute he'd agreed to Shelton's deal.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Liv stared at the twelve rows of cupcakes laid out across the island in the kitchen of her bakery. Six batches since she'd arrived early that morning. In record time. And she'd make as many as she had to in order to forget about Jake Miller.

  She was running on adrenaline now. Sleep had been out of the picture last night. Betrayal after betrayal after betrayal had haunted her. She'd wished it were all a nightmare. She'd hoped it were a dream. But waking up to the cracked frame of that picture Jake had left for her brought reality crashing down. She pushed it out of her mind, showered and dressed, and made her way to work before the birds even started to sing.

  In between waiting for the oven timer to go off, she organized the fridge, cleaned the bathroom, and dusted the tables in the front of the bakery.

  She wasn't used to being by herself. At Sweet Creations, there was always Nancy. At the bar, there was always a waitress on staff. But here, she was utterly alone.

  Working in the kitchen didn't help her loneliness. She didn't have a Nancy to check up on her. She didn't have a Corey to pass the time talking about boy bands and the latest trends on Twitter.

  She picked up the piping bag and squeezed the chocolate buttercream over the coffee-flavored cupcake. She'd had it down to a science, four swirls of her hand and the cupcake was covered with a thick layer of icing.

  She sniffed, and noticed a burning smell. She dropped the cupcake and turned to the ovens. Pulling open the door, she groaned. She'd forgotten to set the timer.

  “Balls!” She grabbed the muffin tray out of the oven and set it on the island. The
edges were crisp, the tops a little too dark for her liking. They had cooked for a few minutes too long. Completely edible, but not sellable. It looked like Patti and Brett were going to get a cupcake surprise tonight.

  She opened the back door to let out the smell. Customers wanted the sweet smell of cupcakes when they walked in, not the stiff scent of fire-roasted cake batter.

  At ten she opened the doors and waited. And waited. The mind was an evil organ. When left idle, it worried, nagged, and focused on unimportant things. The state of her cupcakes, the future of her business, her friends and family…those were the important things. But instead of focusing on the things that mattered, it was lies and betrayal that sat front and center in her mind, no matter how many times she told herself this would only be a blip in the chronology of her life.

  By noon she had sold half of what she had made that morning, and silently cursed herself for not setting the timer. Those twenty-four cupcakes would have come in handy.

  With another lull in business, Liv ducked into the kitchen and rolled out some fondant, cutting out small leaves. Just as she was about to etch the veins on the third leaf, the jingle of the front door sang.

  “How may I help you?”

  A woman with blond hair and over-sized sunglasses had walked in with a stroller, her designer purse in one hand and phone in the other. The baby girl cooed from the stroller, all bundled in winter gear, her designer boots swaying back and forth. She had picked a good area for people who spent money on frivolous things. Hopefully cupcakes counted as their idea of frivolous.

  The woman looked up from her phone and pulled her sunglasses to the top of her head. “My son is having friends over after school and I don't feel like making a snack.” Did she ever make snacks? She didn't look like the type.

  “How many children?” Liv asked, shushing her inner judge.

  The woman sighed. “There will be five.”

  “How about an order of six? There'll even be one left over for you.” Liv smiled. Not that people ever needed an excuse to eat cupcakes.

  “Oh, no.” She waved her phone-free hand in the air. “No carbs for me.”

  Right. Of course.

  “Can I just have five? What about those ones?” She pointed to the mocha.

  “Those have a little bit of coffee in them. Let me suggest the Chocolate Heaven. Chocolate cake, chocolate icing. No kid will turn that down.”

  “Sure. Five of those, please.”

  Liv beamed. She had no idea it would be so exciting to make a sale. Hopefully the woman didn't see how ridiculous she looked.

  Once the five had been put into their pink box with the see-through plastic cutout, the showcase looked pretty bleak. But this was a good indication as to how much she would sell every weekday. The less she had to run to the ovens to replenish her product, the better. It would take time, but she'd get the hang of it.

  “Do you smell something burning?”

  “Oh.” Liv tensed. She didn't want a customer to know she actually burned something. “It's the new ovens. They're still smelling up a bit whenever they're used.”

  The woman shrugged and took out her credit card.

  Since the woman didn't actually buy a half dozen, Liv had to charge her individually. She didn't seem to mind. However, it was the perfect opportunity to give her the promotion card. Liv stamped five cupcakes across the card and handed it to the woman.

  “Here's a cupcake card. When you buy twelve individual cupcakes, you get the thirteenth free.”

  The woman smiled and shoved it in her wallet. She put the cupcakes in the bottom compartment of the stroller. The baby screeched and the mother didn't even flinch. Liv, on the other hand, had to stop herself from putting her hands over her ears.

  “Thank you. Have a wonderful day,” Liv said.

  With the front door opening, the air swirled and Liv caught another whiff of burning. She sniffed harder. It was a different smell. Deeper.

  She entered the kitchen and stopped dead when she saw smoke had filled the room. It wafted from under the door that led to the basement.

  But even more surprising was the image of Nancy visible through the smoke. Liv was hallucinating. It had to be a hallucination. How on earth would Nancy get…? Liv glanced to the open back door. She hadn't closed it after she aired out the room.

  Panic set it. She went over to the basement door and lightly touched the doorknob. It was warm to the touch but not scorching. She opened the door and froze. Flames as high as the basement ceiling charged their way up the stairs. Smoke billowed out into the kitchen, forcing her to cover her mouth and eyes.

  “Olivia, we must get out of here.” Nancy pulled at her, her voice a tiny whisper below the rush of panic taking over her body. “Olivia?”

  This was another dream. Another nightmare.

  She was yanked backward, her feet fumbling for balance. The basement door became smaller and less visible through the thick smoke.

  Someone coughed behind her. Nancy.

  Liv gasped for breath when they stumbled out into the alley. Fresh air filled her lungs, calming her, turning the horrific scene into perspective.

  “Yes, I'd like to report a fire.”

  She turned to see Nancy on her cell phone.

  “Yes, it's contained in the basement right now, but it's progressing quickly.”

  As Nancy gave the 911 operator the details, she crumbled to the ground against the brick wall. Thank God that woman had already left with her child. Thank God there were no other customers in the building.

  A rush of air blasted from the back door of the bakery. Orange flames danced at the top of the basement stairs. Her ovens. Her mixer. The stupid, leaky sink. In minutes, flames were going to take them all.

  “Olivia?” Nancy stood in front of her. “We need to go around to the front of the building. The fire department is on its way.”

  She nodded. What she really meant to do was hurl expletives and shake the truth out of her friend. She hadn't forgotten Corey's confession. Nancy had been the one out to get her, and she had the audacity to show up. Or rather, sneak in the back door of her bakery as if everything was normal. But she was right—they had to get out of there. On wobbly legs, Liv followed Nancy to the front of the building.

  They crossed the street, and when they reached the curb, Nancy tried to link her arm with Liv's but she ripped it away. “I caught you in the kitchen. You snuck into my bakery. Did you start this fire?”

  Nancy gasped and raised her hand to her chest. It was then that Liv noticed her purse in Nancy's hand. When did she have time to grab it? “Olivia. I did not start this fire. I…”

  “What were you doing in my kitchen?” She lunged forward and ripped her purse from her hands.

  The faint sound of sirens breached the air between them.

  “You didn't start the fire?”

  Nancy shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.

  “But you screwed me over with my bank loan. Changed the letters on my advertisement, and who the hell else knows what?”

  Nancy let her head fall forward, a stream of tears sliding down her cheeks. “I did those things,” she whispered. She lifted her head and stood strong, “But I did not start this fire.”

  The first fire truck arrived. There were so many things she wanted to say to Nancy. So many questions she wanted to ask. But the sight of her bakery burning to the ground was a more pressing matter.

  She'd deal with Nancy later.

  …

  The dark brick building, scorched and hollowed, was total devastation to Liv's eyes. She wasn't normally a crier, but today…today she was.

  She had watched the dark smoke spiral up into the sky, taking with it her dreams. Firemen diligently worked to contain the situation. The rush of the water from the hoses kept a constant hum in the air, somehow calming, numbing the reality of it all. But now that the fire was almost out, she trembled. She hugged her arms around her body. Her only source of comfort.

  She was utterly alon
e. She hadn't called anyone. Not Austin or Patti, not her family.

  “Ms. Crawford?” A dark-haired man approached with a little black notebook in his hand. He flipped to a blank page. He was the fire investigator, or so she remembered from his brief introduction. “Do you have any idea how the fire could have started?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe the electrical wiring. Or…” She paused. It was sickening to even think that Nancy could have something to do with this.

  “Ms. Crawford, do you think there are other circumstances at play here?”

  She shook her head. “I…” she whispered. “I don't know.”

  For law enforcement, the man had kind eyes and nodded in understanding.

  “What happens now?” she asked.

  “There's really no need for you to be here. Go home. We'll get everything under control.” He closed up his notebook. She had been officially dismissed. “I'll be in touch tomorrow for another debrief.” The investigator handed her his card then stuck the notebook in the inside pocket of his jacket. “If you have any questions or think of anything else, give me a call.”

  “Thank you.”

  Liv wanted to collapse. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. She battled with herself. It was her nature to fight, but the sight of her dream going up in flames tore away at her determination.

  “I can't believe this is happening,” she said to no one as she paced along the sidewalk, the freak-out she was expecting finally showing up. “First, I get rejected for the bank loan, then that inspector breathing down my back, and the ruined ad and leaky sink and—”

  “Everything's going to be okay, Olivia.” Liv tensed at the sound of Nancy's voice. She had obviously returned home to change her clothing. Liv still wore her dirty and blackened apron under the blanket that had been wrapped around her shoulders.

  She laughed, but it came out as a half cry. She was a whirlwind of emotion at this point. “And how do you know everything's going to be okay?” She stood tall, crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you going to interfere again? Right all the wrongs you started in the first place?”