Mann Cakes: A Beach Pointe Romance

by Mysti Parker

  He sat at the head of the table, with the girls to his right and the boys to his left. “Just put on the headphones. You’ll be able to hear everything clearly through these. Speak into the microphones, and keep your voices the same tone as mine. Ready?”

  “Yes,” they all said at once.

  Mr. Nimoy chuckled. He picked up his notes and clicked a couple of buttons at one of the sound consoles. He held up three fingers, then two, then one. The On Air sign flared to life in red LED glory.

  “Welcome to our Everyday Entrepreneurs Hour,” he said, leaning on his elbows, shoulders hunched like Larry King. His voice had lowered into the articulate, even tone common to LRB. “I’m Douglas Nimoy. Our guests today are the owners of two respected pastry shops in Beach Pointe. The first is Two Sisters Cupcakes, owned and operated by sisters Paige and Morgan Baxter. Tell us a little about your business.”

  Morgan waved and smiled as though the listeners could see her. She leaned in to the mic. “Thank you. We’re happy to be here.” Though she was attempting to emulate Mr. Nimoy’s calm tone, it came out more like a breathy Marilyn Monroe.

  Paige rolled her eyes. Morgan mouthed, What?

  Then Page added, "We offer a variety of cupcakes and other pastries in many flavors and colors. We cater to parties, weddings, you name it. Plus, we can host birthday parties and mother-daughter tea parties there in our shop. Book now through the end of the month for half off any size party."

  Are you crazy? Morgan mouthed at her. We'll be swamped.

  Paige mouthed back, No, we won't.

  Mr. Nimoy gave them a disapproving shake of the head. Oops. He'd told them not to be salesy. Oh well, what would it hurt? Business couldn't get much slower.

  He turned to the guys and consulted his notes. “Also joining us are Air Force vets turned entrepreneurs, Tanner and Garrett Mann, owners of Mann Cakes, which opened recently on our historic downtown Main Street. Welcome to the show.”

  “The pleasure is all ours,” Tanner said, his voice seductively deep, and his lips so close to the mic, he was practically making love to it.

  The jerk—he had probably prepared that flattering intro for the host to read. Paige wanted to throw something at him, but she kept her hands busy tapping her fingers on her knees instead.

  He looked right at her, issuing a challenge with his intense stare, and spoke into the mic. "We're now offering cooking classes for the ladies. Tuesday nights, drinks on us."

  Garrett nudged him, mouthing, We don't have a liquor license.

  "I mean, BYOB. Just call us to book your spot."

  Over his wire-rimmed glasses, Mr. Nimoy’s eyes flashed a warning at his guests. “Yes, thank you for the information. I find it interesting that two sets of siblings operate such similar businesses. Do you find it challenging to work with family?”

  “Um…” Paige wasn’t sure who was supposed to answer that, since he kept looking back and forth as though waiting for someone to chime in.

  Finally, his gaze settled on the guys. Tanner propped an elbow on the table and flashed a smile at the host. “Not at all, Doug. In fact, without my brother’s culinary talents, we wouldn’t be here.”

  “So, Garrett is the chef, and what is your role in your burgeoning business?”

  “I run the business side of Mann Cakes. It takes both great food and business savvy to make a shop like ours work.”

  “No kidding.” Paige winced. Crap—she’d said that out loud.

  Mr. Nimoy’s eyes widened over his wire rims. “Paige, would you say working with your sister is a challenge?”

  She glanced at Morgan, who was staring at her with an expectant look, and leaned close to the microphone. “Not usually. I mean, sometimes we have, um, differences of opinion when it comes to recipes and promotional efforts. Some of her ideas are out there.”

  “What do you mean?” Morgan piped in, arms crossed, and one eyebrow arched.

  Garrett wore a sympathetic frown while Tanner’s smug grin heated her face.

  She spoke into the mic again, “I just meant her ideas are creative. Morgan is an artist. She can think outside the box, whereas I’m the practical one.”

  Morgan’s brow knitted as though she didn’t quite know how to take that.

  “Without her, I’d have never kept the shop going. She’s always thinking of new things to try while I tend to get in a rut. She encourages me every day. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

  Morgan’s lips jutted out with a sentimental pout. She put a hand to her chest and blinked back tears. Paige had to look away. It wouldn’t bode well for a radio interview if she turned into a blubbering mess.

  Mr. Nimoy nodded with a satisfied smile. “It’s refreshing to see family able to work together despite differences. Now Garrett, tell me about your food. What can those who aren’t familiar with your brand expect from Mann Cakes?”

  Garrett paled. He’d never been one to enjoy the spotlight. He swallowed hard and eased toward the mic as though it could bite him if he wasn’t careful. He sounded more robot than human. “We make muffins and cupcakes that are savory. Bold flavors. Meats, cheeses, spices. I find locally grown items whenever possible.”

  Morgan propped her chin in her hand, smiling at Garrett with wide, admiring eyes.

  The host consulted his notes again. “You have interesting names for your products, including something called Monday Muffintops. What are those?”

  Tanner answered with his fake seductive voice, his lips brushing the mic as he spoke. “It’s a link sausage in a slightly sweet maple-flavored muffin.”

  “Has that been a popular item?”

  “Oh yeah. The ladies really like a good sausage in their muffins.” Tanner grinned and blew a silent kiss at Paige.

  Paige’s jaw dropped. Morgan's mouth twisted into a disgusted grimace. Garrett lowered his head, scrubbing a hand over his face.

  Mr. Nimoy went dead still for a moment before clearing his throat. “Yes, okay, so you feel that local businesses should support our small farming communities?”

  Garrett eased up to the mic and answered, “Yes,” then quickly backed away from it again.

  “Would you agree with that, Morgan?” Mr. Nimoy asked. “Do you and Paige also source local products?”

  Morgan’s eyes went wide. Paige fanned her hand at her sister to get her to keep talking.

  “Yes, of course,” Morgan said. "We do now, anyway. I mean, we didn't always..."

  Paige sliced the air with her hands to get her to shut up.

  "Our listeners will be happy to hear that." Mr. Nimoy consulted his notes again, scratching his chin as though he wasn’t sure about his next question. “Two Sisters focuses on the sweet side of pastry products. Have you considered the rising rates of obesity and diabetes when it comes to your recipes?”

  Paige glared at Tanner. He just smiled and blinked at her. Had the asshole wormed that question in there? Mr. Nimoy looked up at her with apologetic eyes.

  “We are committed to the health and well-being of our community,” Morgan chimed in. “We encourage moderation with all sweets. In addition to smaller portion-sized cupcakes, we offer sugar-free varieties.”

  Thank God for Morgan’s quick response. Paige had been tempted to climb across the table and tackle Tanner for that stunt.

  “Very good,” Mr. Nimoy said. “Now, for the Mann brothers, would you say your experiences in the Air Force have benefited you as small business owners?”

  “No doubt. It takes discipline and dedication to perform well in the military," Tanner said, his blue eyes slanting toward Paige.

  "You were both deployed to Afghanistan for a year. Did you experience any dangerous situations that have influenced how you respond to challenges in your business?"

  "Sure. We had to be on our toes. You never knew when there'd be an attack. I had a few close calls, that's for sure."

  Garrett had been listening intently as his brother spoke. He crept up on the mic again, keeping his mouth a respectable two in
ches from it. "He's being modest."

  Paige had to hold back a laugh. Tanner modest? She propped her elbows on the table, her chin resting on her interlaced fingers. This had better be good.

  "How so?" Mr. Nimoy asked.

  "He had a very close call and saved a kid who was caught in the crossfire when his convoy was attacked. Everyone in her village had taken cover, but somehow this little girl got left behind. Tanner shielded her with his body and took a bullet to the leg."

  Paige sat up straight, gripping the edge of the table. She'd never heard it mentioned in the news, but then again, she didn't watch TV. Linda hadn't mentioned it either. Maybe no one thought she would have cared. The fact that he could have died left her with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

  For once, Tanner looked uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat and wrung his hands. "It only grazed me. I'm no hero."

  "Well, you are to me," Garrett said. "I stayed on base most of the time as an avionics tech. Tanner's the one who was out there on the battlefield."

  Mr. Nimoy nodded, clearly more pleased with the serious tone the interview had taken. "I'd call you both heroes. It takes everyone's dedication to keep things running smoothly in the military. The same thing applies when running a small business, wouldn't you say?"

  "Absolutely." Garrett had gained more confidence, sitting with perfect posture with his hands flat on the table, ready to respond. "We both have to pull our weight to make Mann Cakes a success, just like Morgan and Paige have to, right?"

  That was nice of him, bringing them back into the conversation. "Um, yes, definitely." Paige had to take a sip of Morgan's water to wet her dry mouth.

  "What drives you to succeed? What makes it worth your while?" Mr. Nimoy tapped his chin with his pen, directing his question at the girls first.

  Paige took a deep breath. She had to choose her words carefully. "I love providing fun and delicious food to the people in our town. They know they can count on us to deliver what we promise. We also do what we can to support causes that are important to us."

  "Such as?"

  "Autism, for one," Morgan said. Her steady gaze fell on Paige. She gave a subtle nod, encouraging her to keep the momentum going.

  Paige had not wanted to discuss this in front of Tanner, at least not in a public forum like this.

  "Why autism?" Mr. Nimoy prompted.

  The weight of everyone's stares turned her skin to gooseflesh. Especially Tanner's, whose knitted brow and eyes projected intense curiosity. She hugged her middle and kept her focus on the base of the microphone as she spoke. "Because of my son. His name is Tyler, and he's autistic."

  She ventured a look at Tanner. His hands dropped to his lap, and his neck and shoulders went rigid. From his blank expression, she couldn't tell if he was angry, surprised, or hurt. She'd expected he'd have heard about Ty from his mom or sister or someone else in town, but apparently, he hadn't.

  The rest of the hour passed in a blur. Mr. Nimoy picked up on the tension again and directed the questions to less serious territory like concerns about preservatives and pesticides and whether the political climate had any impact on business. As soon as the On Air sign clicked off, Paige said a quick goodbye to Mr. Nimoy and left. Tanner didn't try to stop her, thankfully. She got in her car, turned the key, and revved the motor.

  Morgan hurried out the door as Paige was backing out and jumped in the passenger's side. "Good grief, why the rush?"

  "You know why."

  "He had to find out some time, and it's best he heard it from you."

  "I'll decide what's best next time, got it?"

  "Fine. Be that way. I'm going to text Garrett and apologize. He asked me out on a date, and I've made him wait a whole week."

  After a silent ride, Paige dropped Morgan off at her apartment and drove to her mom's house to pick up Ty. All she could think about was Tanner and what he might be thinking about her after that “tell-all” interview. And knowing that he'd saved a child in Afghanistan—it complicated matters even more. Even if he did act cocky around her, that alone said he'd grown up and was capable of sacrifice. She dreamed about him that night, waking up with a racing heart and an ache in her core. She had all but given up on a sex life, with Tyler being so unpredictable. She never knew when he'd end up in her bed because of a nightmare or decide to get up and draw thirty-threes, or whatever he was fixed on at any given moment, on the walls. Lying there still and quiet, she listened for any sign of her son stirring from his room across the narrow hall.

  Silence.

  As though reeled in with an invisible line of desire, her fingers found just the spot that needed relief. She closed her eyes and circled it, imagining Tanner in her dream. How his mouth had found the spot she was now stimulating. How he'd sucked and licked, circling his tongue in teasing circles until she could barely stand it. How his hot, bare skin had slid against hers when he slipped inside and thrust so elegantly in and out, filling her, taking her to the brink of pleasure. It didn't take long for the orgasm to ripple through her body. As the shudders subsided, Paige rolled to one side, smiling with satisfaction, that soon turned to aggravation, knowing that once again, she'd let Tanner invade her mind. If she wasn't careful, he'd capture her heart again as well.

  ****

  Sunday morning dawned with Ty bouncing onto Paige's bed, already dressed. So what if it was a little mismatched? He had paired a red and white striped shirt with yellow plaid shorts. The important thing was that he had dressed himself. She couldn't remember him ever doing that before. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she sat up and hugged him. She caught her breath when he hugged her back.

  "Hungry, baby?"

  Ty nodded.

  "How about some bacon and eggs?"

  He nodded again and bounded off the bed toward the kitchen.

  While the bacon fried, Paige whisked the eggs, adding salt, pepper, and a splash of cream. Ty lay belly down on the floor, happily humming to himself while drawing thirty-threes on the linoleum with dry erase markers. Thank goodness she'd remembered to put the permanent markers in a locked cabinet with other potential hazards that could cause sticky messes, puncture wounds, or stains. Once she'd caught him covering the display case with glue and a generous dusting of glitter. Talk about a pain to clean up.

  Spotting her cell phone on the counter, she unlocked it and checked her messages. She had twenty texts and ten emails and even a few voice messages from numbers she didn't recognize. She listened to one of the voice mails: "Hi, we'd love to book a tea party. My number is..." The texts and emails were all from people who wanted to book parties with them.

  Paige laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. She texted Morgan:

  It worked!

  The reply came instantly:

  What worked?

  The plug on the show yesterday. We have a ton of messages- people wanting to book!

  Told you. I guess that's a good thing though.

  Yep and even better, Ty dressed himself today.

  Wow, go little man! Let's hope it's the beginning to a great day.

  Want to come with us to the park?

  Sorry, I have a date with Garrett today.

  An annoying twinge of jealousy tensed Paige's shoulders. She forced herself to breathe and relax. Morgan deserved happiness, and Garrett was a great guy. She replied:

  Where are you going?

  No idea, but the suspense is killing me.

  OK, just have fun and... Paige paused for a moment, trying to come up with the right words. ...Just have fun. Love u.

  I will. Love u 2. Have fun at the park.

  After breakfast, Paige poured some coffee in a travel mug, adding a little skim milk and a dash of cinnamon. She threw on yoga pants and a Nirvana T-shirt, ran her fingers through her hair, and started out of the bathroom, but turned back. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed she looked like an extra from The Walking Dead. She dug her neglected cosmetics from a drawer. The mascara had coagulated into black clumps, so she had to toss it. But
then she smiled, and it brightened her face more than any makeup could. Things were finally looking up. Too many bookings were a lot better than none. Nothing could dampen her spirits today. She took Ty to the car, and off they went to the park. With such gorgeous weather this early in spring, and with Ty's good mood, she didn't want to waste a moment.

  As soon as they arrived, Ty ran for the playground and stopped next to his favorite spot, the sandbox. He hesitated, head down, and gently kicked the grass with one foot. Two little girls, one with light brown and one with dark brown hair, had already staked their claims in the opposite corners. They reminded Paige of her and Morgan when they were kids, back when life was simple and the only thing they had to worry about was sharing their toys. Unfortunately, raising an autistic son meant things weren't so simple. Something as normal as sitting in a sandbox with other kids could mean a tantrum or a sleepless night. That was why she tried to go to the park early on Sundays before most people had even woken up.

  She came up next to him, crouched to his level, and whispered, "Would you like to play with your trucks in the sandbox?"

  He nodded.

  "Okay." She pulled a couple of his Hot Wheels from her purse. "Go ahead. I'll be right here. We can get ice cream after the park."

  His face brightened when he raised his head and smiled. That little face, framed with thick brown hair, and those brown eyes and freckles never failed to warm her heart. He looked like a male version of herself. In his brooding, darker moods, he especially took after her. It wasn’t any wonder, considering her mood had been as bleak as the dark side of the moon for so long. But sometimes in his happy, peaceful moments, she could see traces of someone else. Unfortunately, both men she had fallen for had similar features, and she didn't want to ruin this lovely day by speculating about who had fathered her son.

  Ty finally climbed in the sandbox and plopped down on the sand, his back facing the girls. They regarded him with curiosity, then went back to playing.

  Paige sat close by on the nearest bench in case Ty's behavior went downhill. The girls' mother sat with arms crossed on a bench to her right, staring at her smart phone. She didn't recognize the woman at first, and then it dawned on her.