Wedding Cake Wishes

by Dana Corbit

  That her mother was standing inside the bakery rather than the hospital’s critical care unit made it clear she hadn’t trusted the two of them to find a way to work together.

  “Sorry, Mom.”

  “I’m sorry, too.” As Logan bent his head, his light brown hair fell across his eyes. “I know you were trying to help when you called Caroline, but—”

  Trina shook her head to interrupt him. “Logan, stop right there. Your mother’s facing the crisis of her life, and all you can do is spend time arguing about whether you need my daughter’s help at the bakery?”

  “I’m not trying to upset you, Mrs. Scott, but I have this under control. I already took leave from work.” He gestured toward Caroline. “We don’t both need to lose time at our jobs during Mom’s recovery.”

  “That won’t be a problem.” Trina glanced sidelong at her daughter. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”

  With heat scaling her neck and face, Caroline shook her head.

  Her always matter-of-fact mother took a step toward Logan. “Because of the current economic downturn, investors pulled the financial backing on the Ultimate Center, and the whole project for the mega-mall that Caroline managed folded.”

  “You lost your job?”

  Caroline looked up to find Logan watching her. She pressed her lips together and nodded.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Thanks.” His compassionate tone made her shift where she stood. Vulnerability was a new feeling for her, and she doubted she would ever wear it well.

  “As soon as Caroline told me what had happened at work, I knew this would be perfect. God definitely has a plan here.”

  “God wanted your daughter to lose her job?” The side of Logan’s mouth lifted.

  “Oh, you know what I mean.” Trina waved away his usual attempt to be a class clown with a brush of her hand. “So it appears that you’re both available to work here, at least for a while. And it’s going to take both of you.”

  He appeared to consider what she’d said. “Go on.”

  “Okay, Logan, your heart was in the right place when you volunteered to run the bakery, but you don’t have any business experience. Caroline has that, so it’s a blessing that she also has an abundance of free time right now.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Caroline slid a glance Logan’s way and was relieved he wasn’t watching her now. Her mother had managed to praise and offend both of them at the same time.

  “Just telling it like it is.” Trina held her hands wide. “And, Caroline, though you have more business experience than he does, Logan is more invested in this business than you are. He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure the bakery survives.”

  “She’s right,” Logan said. “I will.”

  “Even if that means putting up with my daughter being here to do it.”

  Logan opened his mouth, but he must not have been able to argue with that logic because he closed it and nodded. “Mom needs to have something to return to when she recovers. No matter what, we have to make this work…for her,” he said after a moment.

  “Yes, we do,” Caroline agreed. The vehemence in her voice startled her, but she couldn’t help it. His determination was contagious. Strange, the compassionate and purposeful man she’d faced today didn’t fit with the image she’d had of Logan any more than his broad shoulders and toned, tanned arms, clearly of a man who worked with his hands, matched those of the boy she used to know.

  She smiled to herself as she realized that maybe she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought. But when he grinned back at her, his trademark dimples popping on his cheeks, Caroline’s breath caught, and a ticklish feeling settled inside her belly.

  “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

  “What?” Caroline jerked, caught daydreaming for the second time in a single conversation.

  “Are you going to be okay to handle this project?”

  “Of course I will.”

  But was she really okay? Something had to be wrong with her if she was reacting so strangely to Logan. She usually didn’t let any man faze her. Certainly not a guy who was four years younger than she was. Absolutely not a player with boyish charm and movie-star good looks. Hadn’t she learned her lesson about men like Logan Warren a long time ago?

  She pushed away painful, private memories with a shake of her head. Whatever was going on inside her, it had to stop right now. She’d just promised to help Logan learn to run his mother’s business, and she couldn’t do that if she allowed herself to be distracted. The answer to that challenge was simple: in order to help the baker, all she had to do was to ignore the baker’s son.

  She peeked at Logan again and this time found him watching her, seeing too much. Swallowing hard, she looked away. She realized with a shock that ignoring Logan Warren would be easier said than done.

  Chapter Two

  Caroline glanced up from the drawer where she’d been mentally cataloging baking tools only to find that the two cake decorators she’d met earlier were studying her just as intently.

  “You’re Trina Scott’s daughter, aren’t you?” the redhead named Margie asked, squinting as if she hadn’t quite placed her.

  “Yes, I am.”

  Come to think of it, Logan had introduced Caroline only by her first name when he’d updated the staff on his mother’s condition and on changes at the bakery. After that, he’d slipped off to his mother’s office with the excuse of learning the accounting software. Well, at least one of them could avoid curious glances from the staff.

  Figuring it was time to take charge, Caroline stepped toward the stainless-steel counter where the women sat on stools, working on their masterpieces. “Do you know my mother?”

  The women looked at each other and laughed.

  “Do we know her mother?” Margie asked her cohort as she spread chocolate buttercream frosting over a sheet cake.

  Their laughter was enough to make a person nervous.

  The stout brunette named Kamie paused from her task of stretching a sugar dough called fondant over a three-layer yellow cake. “Even if we didn’t already know Trina since…oh…second grade, we would have known her from here at the shop.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  Her mother probably spent more than her share of time at Mrs. Warren’s business since moving back to Markston. Caroline could only hope that it hadn’t been so much time that she had been tempted to share family stories.

  Margie shook her frosting-covered spatula at Caroline. “You’re the one who’s decided not to marry.”

  “I—” Caroline frowned. Definitely too many stories. She needed to establish professional employer-employee boundaries with the staff here…and fast.

  “You sure messed with your mother’s and Amy’s matchmaking plans before they realized they were targeting the wrong bride,” Kamie said, chuckling. “But they figured it out, didn’t they? They got your sisters matched up just right.”

  Her face felt like it was on fire. She needed no reminders of those humiliating matchmaking events, where the two moms had tried to set her up first with Matthew and then with Dylan. It didn’t matter that she’d never planned to marry or even that she was thrilled that both of her sisters had found love. She still couldn’t help feeling sensitive over all of that rejection.

  The decorators were staring at her, curiosity painted all over their faces. If someone asked her if she was married to her career, Caroline was sure she would die of embarrassment. What was she supposed to say now? That she and her career had divorced? It wasn’t anyone’s business, any more than anyone needed to know that her choice not to date was less about her feminist leanings and more about a broken heart.

  Caroline braced herself, waiting, but the two women were suddenly studying something behind her. She didn’t have to turn to know that Logan was back there, witnessing the whole humiliating exchange. The tingling at the back of her neck gave her enough of a hint.

  “Just thought I’d check in and see how the cakes
were coming along.”

  Logan leaned against the wall just inside the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed. His words were innocuous, but his jaw was tight, and his fingers pressed too tightly into the snug-fitting cuffs of his short-sleeve polo shirt. His words were layered with meaning, as well. It couldn’t have been clearer that he thought the decorators should spend more time decorating cakes and less time looking for information on Caroline’s personal life.

  Margie must have gotten the message because she bristled. “They’re coming along just fine, Mister Warren.”

  “Well, that’s great to hear, Margie.” He put as much emphasis on her first name as the decorator had on his title since she’d avoided using his given name. “We’ll all have our work cut out for us with Mom out of commission.”

  “We’ll keep that in mind,” Kamie said in a banal tone.

  Caroline couldn’t help staring at Logan. Had he really just stepped in to defend her? Inexplicably, a memory from last Christmas sneaked into her thoughts. It was one of Logan with chilly rain plastering his flannel shirt to the wide expanse of his back as he hefted an ax to take down his mother’s massive Christmas tree.

  What was wrong with her? She couldn’t be flattered that he’d come to her rescue when she had every right to be offended. She was no damsel in distress any more than Logan was a knight in shining armor. Or Paul Bunyan.

  “Things are going great out here,” Caroline said to fill the uncomfortable silence. “How’s everything in the back office?”

  “It’s a slow start, but I’ll figure it out.”

  The two women, who seemed to be making a point of not looking at Logan, exchanged a look.

  “Of course you will,” Caroline couldn’t help saying. Whether Logan should have stepped into the conversation or not, she could see that it had put him in an uncomfortable position with two of the employees on the first day. The least she could do was be gracious over his sacrifice if he would have to deal with that awkwardness. “There’s a learning curve to working with new software.”

  “Hopefully, the hill won’t be too steep. I didn’t bring my climbing gear.” He chuckled at his own joke though no one else joined him.

  “You know I could give you a few pointers—”

  Logan raised his hand to stop her. “Thanks, but I’ll figure it out.” He turned back to the employees. “Well, carry on, ladies.”

  Without waiting for a response, he returned to the office but closed the door only halfway.

  “Sorry if we were too…er…invasive,” Kamie said as soon as he was gone, and her partner nodded her agreement.

  “Thanks.” Caroline almost wished they’d apologized to Logan instead.

  “We’ve just heard so much about your two families since your mom moved back to Markston that it’s hard not to get caught up in the stories,” Margie said with a shrug. “Especially the matchmaking part.”

  Caroline slid a glance toward the open office door, from where Logan had to be able to hear the conversation. Whether he’d denied it or not, he’d guessed that their mothers had been trying another one of their matchmaking ambushes. Could he have been right? She hated admitting that she suspected it, too, but she hated even more that her palms dampened at just the thought of it.

  “Well, it’s good that you’ll be here helping Logan,” Margie began again. “He’ll need it.”

  Again, Caroline’s gaze darted toward that open door, and she was even sorrier this time that Logan could overhear them. Okay, she’d doubted his abilities herself when her mother had said he would be operating the bakery during his mother’s recovery, but she hated that no one seemed to be in his court.

  “Logan would have had this place in shipshape in no time. With or without any help.”

  “Of course,” Kamie said.

  Her comment must have surprised the women as much as it had Caroline because both gave her guarded looks before turning back to their cakes. She told herself her small show of support was only to help Logan establish himself in a position of authority so he could manage the business. At least, that was the only way she could explain it.

  Caroline returned to her own task of familiarizing herself with the kitchen tools. After she closed the last drawer, she glanced up at the clock and stepped down the hall to the office. Through the crack in the door, she could see Logan crouched over his mother’s laptop and tapping keys at an angry pace. He must have sensed her presence, because he turned back to her.

  “Do you need something?”

  “I was going to offer again to help you out with that software program.”

  The side of his mouth lifted. “No. Really. I’m good. If I don’t figure it out soon, I’ll call for help.”

  “Okay, I guess,” she said.

  Caroline didn’t even know why she was belaboring the point other than that she felt indebted to Logan. First, he’d taken pity on her and agreed to work with her after he’d learned about her joblessness, and then he’d come to her rescue with the busybodies. She wasn’t used to feeling beholden to anyone, and it didn’t sit well.

  She had to make it up to him; that was all there was to it. She would already have done that if he would only allow her to give him a computer mini-course.

  Well, she would just have to find another way to return his favor. Maybe she could teach him how to do inventory lists or complete supply order forms. She didn’t care if she had to learn to operate the giant mixers just so she could teach him how to mix up a yellow cake batter. In the next few days, she would find something to do so she could settle her debt to Logan Warren.

  “Well, that’s just not good enough.”

  The sound of the screeching female voice reached Caroline’s ears the moment she stepped inside after her quick lunch trip home to drop off her luggage. She’d been sure that when she returned to the bakery wearing her business-casual ensemble of black slacks and a crisp white blouse the rest of the day would be a breeze. Wrong.

  “I don’t want one wedding cake,” the woman continued, her voice still a few decibels above a speaking voice. “I want each of my guests to have an individual cake.”

  “Of course,” Logan said in an unnatural-sounding voice. “Multiple cakes do make a statement, but I’m not sure, based on the budget you’ve just presented me, that they would be the best choice.”

  Caroline cringed as she hung up her purse on the hook next to Logan’s black leather jacket and motorcycle helmet. She hurried into the kitchen, where several employees were crowded near the swinging door. Had Logan never heard of the business adage, “the customer is always right”?

  Since none of the employees were bothering to hide the fact that they were eavesdropping, Caroline didn’t pretend, either. She leaned close and spoke out the side of her mouth. “What’s going on out there?”

  “Just another Bridezilla with big ideas and too small a wedding budget,” Margie told her.

  “Why isn’t anyone helping him?” But as soon as she asked it, Caroline realized she didn’t want anyone else to do so. She’d been looking for a way to repay Logan for stepping to her defense earlier, and this was perfect. She knew how to appease irate customers with her eyes closed and both hands tied behind her back.

  Squeezing past the decorators and two cake bakers, she pushed the swinging door open. Through the glass in the bakery counter, she could see Logan seated across from the furious bride-to-be.

  “Well, you’d better find a way to make it happen, or I’ll be taking my business elsewhere. Amy’s isn’t the only bakery in town, you know.”

  Certain the deal was heading south faster than a flight from Indianapolis to Orlando, Caroline skirted around the counter and hurried toward the table where Logan sat, staring down at the price binder instead of at his customer.

  He looked up and lifted a hand to stop Caroline, but she ignored him. He might not be happy about this now, but he would thank her later when she saved him from losing a customer on his first day at work.

  “What Logan was ab
out to say is that we at Amy’s Elite Treats would be delighted to work with you to make a cake or cakes that will meet all of your needs and impress your wedding guests.”

  As the young bride looked up at her from the binder of wedding-cake photos in front of her, Caroline took a few steps forward. “Hello, I’m Caroline.”

  The young woman brushed at a few angry tears and then looked back and forth between Caroline and Logan, as if she wasn’t sure which one she should be listening to.

  “So you will be able to make individual cakes for all my guests and stay within my budget, too?”

  The woman must have chosen her as the primary source now because those red-rimmed eyes appeared hopeful and were trained right on her. Suddenly, Caroline felt as if she was walking into a business meeting unprepared—something she’d never done in her life. Why had she jumped in with two feet before she even knew how deep the water was?

  “Well…” she said, stalling.

  “Go ahead, Caroline. Tell Nicole your plan for helping to make her wedding picture-perfect,” Logan said.

  “It’s just that I’ll need to check a few things first.” Because Caroline was cringing inside, waiting for him to call her out in front of the customer, his chuckle surprised her.

  “Come on. Don’t hold back.” He tapped his finger on the price list, speaking to the young bride instead of to his temporary coworker. “She was about to make a suggestion, and she’s right. It would be perfect.”

  “What would be perfect?” the bride asked.

  “You’ll have to forgive me because this is my first day and I’m only familiarizing myself with the price list.”

  The vibrant, white smile Logan trained on the young woman could have earned a presidential pardon, as far as Caroline was concerned. She wondered why she’d never noticed before that the dimple in his right cheek was deeper than the one on his left. Why she was noticing it now, she didn’t even want to analyze.

  “Anyway,” Logan continued, “I’m sure Caroline had already figured this out, but we have an alternative in the price list that will fit into your budget and still make a statement for your dream wedding.” Logan maintained eye contact with the customer while he spoke, morphing into a confident salesman in a naturalist’s body.