Bakers on Board

by Sheryl Berk

  Kylie gasped. “That’s one thousand dozen! I’m not sure we’ve ever done an order that big before.”

  “Well, you’ve never been on a cruise ship this large before,” Leo pointed out.

  “No problema,” Jenna assured him. “We promised and PLC always keeps its word. Right, guys?”

  Kylie’s head was still spinning, but Jenna had a point. They had promised Leo an amazing cupcake display in exchange for the trip. “Right. I guess. Sure.”

  “Okay, then I’ll leave you to it, ladies. I have to go find Harold and Marisol and make sure they’re all set to shoot the runway show tomorrow.”

  Kylie checked the oven. It was a huge industrial one, capable of baking twelve dozen cupcakes at a time. She clicked the calculator on her phone and did some quick math. “Okay, so we can bake twelve dozen every twenty-two minutes, which means we can bake a thousand dozen in about 1,833 minutes…”

  Lexi rolled her eyes. “Um, that’s like thirty hours. And that doesn’t even include the time we need to frost and make all the fondant toppers.”

  “OMG, we’re going to be working for two days straight!” Sadie groaned.

  “And we have to build the raft and sail too,” Lexi reminded them. “That’s several more hours.”

  Kylie sighed. It was an awfully big assignment. “Well, no use sitting around complaining,” she said. She cleared her throat and did her best Johnny Depp British pirate accent. “Like Captain Jack Sparrow always says, ‘The problem is not the problem. The problem is your attitude about the problem.’”

  “Translation?” Jenna asked.

  “Let’s make this fun!” Kylie exclaimed. “Isn’t that what PLC is all about?”

  Delaney took a handful of flour and sprinkled it over Kylie’s head. “How fun is that?” she asked, slightly annoyed. “Certainly not as fun as the shuffleboard tournament on Deck 8.”

  “You guys, you’re missing the point,” Kylie insisted. “We’re here together, and we’ve got a ginormous kitchen to play in.” She gestured around the galley. “Would you just look around you?”

  Sadie walked over to a huge mixer and flipped it on. It whizzed to life. “This is pretty awesome,” she said.

  Delaney opened the enormous refrigerator room door. “Whoa!” she said, noting entire shelves filled with eggs, milk, and butter. “There’s like an entire grocery store in here.”

  “And will you just check out all these bottles of food coloring?” Lexi asked, admiring the pastry chef’s collection. “Who knew blue came in so many shades?”

  Delaney seized a wooden spoon and thrust it at Kylie. “Avast, ye landlubber! I challenge ye to a duel to the death on the high seas,” she said.

  Kylie picked up a spatula to defend herself. “Arrr, no one challenges Cap’n Kylie Sparrow. Else you want to walk the plank, me bucko?”

  “Shiver me timbers, me thinks we need a high-seas shanty fit to duel to,” Delaney continued. She improvised a funny pirate song:

  “Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of vanilla,

  we have more than 12,000 cupcakes to filla!

  But fear we not, ’cause mighty we are.

  All hands in now, and let me hear you say ‘Arrr!’”

  “Arrr!” the girls sang out, roaring with laughter.

  “Delaney, you are one crazy pirate captain,” Kylie said, dropping her spatula on the counter. “I surrender!”

  Delaney bowed. “Me hat’s off to you, Cap’n Kylie. You said we could make this fun, and you were right.”

  “We can make anything fun if we do it together,” Kylie said, holding up an empty muffin tin. “Time’s a-wasting, maties.”

  The next morning, as Harold unpacked his camera bag, Marisol carefully laid each lens, flash, and tripod out on the floor of the Neptune lounge to inventory them.

  “What’s this?” she asked, holding up something that looked like an umbrella.

  “It’s a reflector,” Harold replied. “Very important in lighting a subject.”

  “There’s so much I don’t know about photography,” Marisol said. “It’s overwhelming.”

  “It comes with time,” Harold assured her. “When I started out, I wasn’t much older than you. The best thing you can do is just take pictures. You learn from doing.”

  He handed her an old Nikon camera. “I traveled with this all over the world. It was one of my first cameras. Good old Lucy never let me down.”

  “Lucy? You name your cameras?” Marisol asked, giggling.

  “Sure do! That one there is Ethel, and these two are Betty and Veronica.”

  “Okay, Lucy,” Marisol said, putting the camera strap around her neck.

  Harold had an idea. “Tell you what. Why don’t you hang on to her for a while for me and take her out for a spin?”

  “Really?” Marisol said, admiring the camera’s intricate lens. “You sure you wouldn’t mind?”

  “Just keep a close eye on her,” Harold warned. “Lucy’s a delicate old girl.”

  Marisol wandered around the ship, snapping shots of various guests enjoying themselves. There was a woman admiring an ice-sculpting display; a group of little girls playing ring-around-the-rosy in the kids’ center; and an older gentleman asleep on a deck chair. She noticed that the air on the top decks wasn’t as chilly as it had been when they left New York. In fact, it was almost warm. They must have been getting closer to Florida and the Bahamas. She gazed out at the rolling waves and breathed in the salty air.

  “Hey, Maggie!” she called, spotting her stepsister walking around with an ice cream cone in her hand. “Where’d you get that from?”

  Maggie pointed to an ice-cream parlor way on the other side of the deck. “DIY cones,” she said. “All you can eat, open twenty-four seven!”

  She offered Marisol hers. “I’ll give you my cone if I can hold your camera for a sec.”

  Marisol hesitated. “It’s kind of on loan…so be very careful with it,” she instructed Maggie. Maggie threw the strap over her neck and peered through the lens. “Whoa, this thing really zooms!”

  “Pool’s open!” a little boy yelled, racing past them.

  “No way!” Maggie squealed. “Finally!” She took off after him, forgetting she was still holding Lucy.

  “Wait! Maggie!” Marisol shouted after her and dropped the cone. “Don’t get the camera wet!”

  But it was too late. Maggie was standing at the edge of the pool watching as the boy did a cannonball off the side. In a split second, he soaked her from head to toe.

  “Hey! Why don’t you watch where you’re splashing!” she yelled at him. She looked down at the camera dangling from her neck. “Oh no. I got it wet!”

  Marisol caught up to her and snatched Lucy back. She tried drying the camera off in a towel, but no matter how many times she tried to switch it on, it wouldn’t oblige.

  “Maggie, you ruined Lucy!” she moaned. “What will l I tell Harold?”

  “Who’s Lucy? Who’s Harold?” Maggie asked. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to, honest!”

  Marisol sighed. “Lucy is the camera, and Harold is the photographer who trusted me with her. I guess it’s just as much my fault as it is yours. I shouldn’t have let it out of my sight.”

  “Well, maybe Harold will know how to fix it,” Maggie suggested.

  “Oh no. I couldn’t possibly tell him I broke his precious camera. I’ll just have to keep my mouth shut and hope I can fix it before he finds out.” She tucked Lucy into her tote bag. “He’s got a lot on his mind with shooting the collection anyway.”

  • • •

  When Marisol caught up with her photo mentor, he was busy in the main ballroom, taking test shots and checking the lighting with a meter. There was a long runway for the models to walk down, and red velvet curtains with glistening gold Ralph Warren RW logos framed the stage.

  “It
’s not ideal,” Harold said, noting how the light streamed in through the room’s small portholes, streaking the walls. “But we can make do.”

  “I’ve seen a runway show before,” Marisol said, reflecting on the time Leo took her and Gabby to New York Fashion Week. “It was really dark with lots of flashing lights.”

  “Exactly,” Harold said. “Which means I supplement the flash and change my focus mode—since the models will be moving fast and I don’t want my subjects to blur.”

  Marisol nodded and pulled out her pen and paper to take notes. Harold was so smart!

  “The show is supposed to start at 8:00 p.m., right after the banquet dinner,” she said, checking the schedule. “Sounds fancy.”

  “Then you better go get yourself gussied up,” he pointed out. “I’m good here.”

  “Okay—if you’re sure you don’t mind,” she said. She did want to straighten her hair, do her makeup, and figure out what shoes to wear with the evening gown Mami had made her.

  “Go on, have some fun. It’s your vacation,” he told her. “Take some great pictures with my Lucy. Can’t wait to see ’em.”

  Marisol gulped. She felt awful that she had ruined Harold’s camera! “Um, yeah, great…” She hesitated. “I’ll do that.”

  Great, Marisol thought to herself as she went back to her cabin. I’m not only lying to Mami, but I’m lying to Mr. Hammond as well! She bumped smack into Leo, who was walking down the hall with his nose in his clipboard.

  “Oh, hi, mija,” he said. “I hear the pools are open.”

  “Yeah, they certainly are.” Marisol couldn’t help groaning. If it weren’t for the pool, she wouldn’t be in this predicament.

  “I thought you’d be psyched for a swim,” Leo replied, puzzled. “I can’t get Maggie out of the water.”

  “Too much splashing going on for me,” Marisol said, dashing off before Leo asked any more questions. “Don’t wanna ruin my hair.”

  Leo shrugged. His stepdaughter’s strange behavior was the least of his worries. The fashion show was set to start in just a few hours, and most of his models were unaccounted for.

  “Leo to Mitchell… Come in, Mitchell,” he said in his walkie-talkie. “Have we tracked down all ten of the ladies for the fashion show?”

  “Negative.” Mitchell’s voice cracked and hissed over the receiver. “I’m short one of them. I’ve looked everywhere—the spa, the pool deck, the game room, the lunch buffet. If you were a model, where would you be?”

  “Keep looking,” Leo instructed him. “I need her in hair and makeup in less than an hour. Or Mr. Warren is going to have both our heads on a platter at the banquet tonight.”

  Somehow, Jenna, Kylie, Sadie, Lexi, and Delaney managed to get themselves cleaned up and dressed for the banquet. They had been working practically nonstop for two days on the pirate cupcakes, and none of them were in any mood for a fancy five-course dinner—much less a fashion show and after-party. But Leo insisted they all be at his table at 5:00 p.m. sharp.

  “I’m so tired.” Lexi yawned, taking her seat. “I dozed off in the shower and dreamed I was rolling out fondant.”

  “Can I just take a quick nap?” Delaney asked, resting her head on the table. “Just a few minutes.”

  Kylie elbowed her. “If I’m staying awake, so are you.”

  Just then, they all heard snoring from across the table. It was Jenna, who’d fallen fast asleep in her bread plate.

  “Jenna! Wake up!” Kylie gave her a kick under the table.

  She jumped to attention. “What? Huh? I’m coming, Mami!”

  Kylie chuckled. “I’m not your mami. And you should probably wipe the drool off your chin. It doesn’t go with your dress.”

  Embarrassed, Jenna dabbed her face with a napkin. “Estoy tan cansado!” she said. “Translation: All I wanna do is crawl into my bed and sleep for a week.”

  “If you did that, you’d miss the whole cruise,” Marisol pointed out. “Not to mention the fashion show I’m helping Harold photograph.”

  “Yay, you.” Jenna tried to sound enthusiastic as she stifled a yawn.

  “How many more cupcakes do we have left to decorate?” Sadie asked. “I lost count at 7,200.”

  “I figure if we do another five hundred tonight, we can finish off the rest tomorrow.”

  “We’ll be in Florida tomorrow,” Lexi pointed out. “It’s gonna be hot and sunny, and we’re going to be stuck in a kitchen dipping cupcakes in ganache?”

  “There’s a day excursion to Disney World,” Delaney reminded them. “Roller coasters and spinning teacups and Mickey Mouse…oh my!”

  “Mickey will have to wait,” Kylie insisted. “We have to get the raft built and stacked with cupcakes. Plus the rest have to be plattered for the waitstaff to hand out.”

  Jenna’s head once again hit the table and she started snoring. “Despertarse!” Marisol said loudly in her ear. “Wakey, wakey.”

  “No!” Jenna moaned in her sleep. “No more bakey, bakey!”

  Marisol gave her hair a sharp tug and Jenna jumped to attention. “Ouch! No hair pulling!”

  Marisol giggled. “Works every time.”

  Just then, Leo took his seat at the head of the table. “Is everybody looking forward to a delicious gourmet meal?” he asked. He was dressed in a black tuxedo.

  Kylie tried her best to smile. “Mmmmm, can’t wait.”

  Before they could even dig into the first course—a delicious goat cheese and cranberry salad—Mitchell came running into the dining room to find Leo. He looked frantic.

  “We’re down one model for the show,” he told Leo. “She’s in her cabin with horrible seasickness.”

  “What?” Leo gasped and pushed his plate away. “She can’t be.”

  “Trust me,” Mitchell replied. “Unless you want her to walk down the runway clutching a barf bag, it’s not happening.”

  “This is awful,” Leo said in a panic. “The clothes have already been fitted. Where are we going to find a five-foot-ten model to wear Mr. Warren’s design?”

  Jenna suddenly perked up. “You need someone five-foot-ten?” she asked. “What about Sadie?”

  Sadie dropped her fork. “Me? I’m not a model. I’m a basketball player.”

  “A super-tall basketball player,” Kylie chimed in. “You could totally do this.”

  Leo looked worried. “It’s kind of you to offer, but Sadie’s never walked a runway before.”

  “How hard could it be?” Jenna said. “You just put one foot in front of the other, right?”

  Mitchell and Leo stared at each other, then at Sadie. “It might work,” Leo finally said. “It will have to.”

  Mitchell grabbed Sadie by the arm. “Come with me,” he instructed her. “No time to waste.”

  “But…wait…” Sadie stammered as he ushered her out of the dining room. “Can we talk about it? I’m not sure!”

  “Pass the butter,” Jenna said, smiling. “I’m staying awake for this.”

  • • •

  After dinner, the guests poured into the ship’s grand ballroom. There were three levels of seats, and every single one was taken. Leo had saved the girls seats in the front row along the runway.

  “This is so exciting for Sadie,” Delaney said. “I’m jealous.”

  Marisol hovered behind Harold as he got into position at the end of the runway. “Let’s just hope it’s smooth sailing,” he told her. “I’ve never shot a fashion show at sea before, and my hands aren’t as steady as they used to be.”

  There was no time to hesitate. Leo appeared on the stage to introduce the start of the program.

  “Esteemed guests and fellow company employees,” he began. “It is my great privilege to introduce our host for this evening as well as the entire cruise, Mr. Ralph Warren.”

  The designer took the stage in a red pl
aid dinner jacket. “Thank you,” he said. “I’m very excited to debut my latest collection. I call it ‘Over the Ocean Blue.’ I hope you enjoy it.”

  The lights dimmed and strange whistling noises filled the room.

  “What is that?” Kylie whispered.

  “I think it’s a dolphin singing,” Lexi replied. “Either that or nails on a chalkboard.”

  “Ya think he played that on porpoise?” Jenna joked with her friends. “Get it? Dolphin? Porpoise?”

  The first model walked out on the stage wearing a catsuit covered in silvery-blue scales.

  “Something’s fishy!” Jenna continued to crack herself up. This fashion-show business was a lot more fun than she had thought it would be!

  Harold reached his hand behind him to Marisol. “The light is reflecting off the scales,” he said. “I think I need Lucy for this one.”

  Marisol’s heart jumped. “Lucy? You need Lucy?”

  “Yes,” he insisted. “Don’t you have her? I told you to not to let her out of your sight.”

  Marisol dug in her tote. “I know, and I have her…” she said, gently handing the old camera back to Harold. “But there’s something I have to tell you.”

  Harold threw the camera strap around his neck. “Later,” he said. “I don’t want to miss this shot.”

  Marisol held her breath as he clicked the camera on. Amazingly, it came to life.

  “Good ol’ Lucy!” she cheered.

  When all the other models had glided down the runway in their blue nautical-themed fashions, it was time for Sadie to make her debut.

  “Mitchell said she was the last model,” Delaney said excitedly. “This is it!” She perched herself on the edge of her seat.

  The soundtrack shifted to the sounds of waves crashing on a beach, and a spotlight hit the back of the runway. There was a pause, then Sadie strutted out in a royal-blue sequined evening gown. Her hair floated around her shoulders in soft waves, and she wore pale-blue eyeshadow and soft, pink lipstick.

  “Dios mío!” Jenna exclaimed. “Sadie’s stunning!” None of the girls could believe how glam she looked—a far cry from her usual sweats and her hair piled high in a ponytail.