Having His Cake
Page 1
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
An excerpt from the third book in this series …
Having His Cake
Her Big Easy Wedding, Part Two
Abby Knox
Copyright © 2018 by Abby Knox
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Edited by Aquila Editing
Cover Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations
For my mother, grandmother, and all the women who ever poured all their love into baking, before it was sexy and cool.
Having His Cake
Part two of the new short-read series
HER BIG EASY WEDDING
By Abby Knox
Vann West is a globetrotting celebrity New Orleans chef. He has everything from superhero good looks to a fangirl in every port. But now, he’s only got eyes for one female, and a powerful need for some Big Easy comfort food.
GiGi DuGray a hardworking local cafe owner and pastry chef extraordinaire. A sassy little kitten with big dreams, she’s got no time for local golden boys, but always time to feed a hungry wolf that comes calling.
When they meet, it might be more than just a party on the taste buds. There might even be a little blood. Most definitely, there will be icing. Strange things happen when the beasts are hungry.
Having his cake is the second installment in the five-part series, Her Big Easy Wedding. These titles are fun, quick reads full of insta-love, alpha males, big-haired debutants and plenty of Louisiana hot sauce for everyone!
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
An excerpt from the third book in this series …
About the Author
Also by Abby Knox
Prologue
July
Few things were better than the gulf breeze in her hair, a book in her lap and a drink in her hand. Most cats are not a fan of water, but GiGi was not most cats.
She took a deep breath and was reminded that nothing back home was falling apart without her. Her days of micromanaging were over.
It was going to take a while to get used to this.
Only true love — and a ridiculous mishap at her cousin’s riverboat wedding last month — could have persuaded her to let it all go for a little while.
GiGi stood and gazed over the railing of the vessel she now co-captained, and wondered what everybody was up to back in New Orleans.
The wedding had gone smoothly enough for a couple like Ash and Rosemary. More or less.
Sure, shit had gotten a little weird. But in the end: they were married, and Uncle Lionel had shown up to walk his daughter down the aisle. Whether the old man had shown up because of Ash’s crazy voodoo stunt, Bobby’s kidnapping scheme or Vann’s way with words, nobody could be sure. GiGi was sure of one thing only, and that was that all of the groomsmen wolves were individually taking the credit for that caper.
Best of all, GiGi’s masterpiece cake had been the hit of the reception.
Or so, she had heard. GiGi had not been available to receive the accolades, as she had spent the bulk of the reception below deck.
But that’s another story.
Chapter 1
Five months earlier…
GiGi
GiGi DuGrey had no life. Running a new restaurant meant she may as well set up camp 24/7 at work. If that were not crazy enough, it was even crazier to think she could compete in New Orleans. But it was her home, and this was her dream.
Which meant she did everything at GiGi’s Cafe: cook, bake, clean and check in with individual patrons in the dining room.
After closing time on this full-moon night, she was hauling out the trash when the wolf showed up.
“Hi there, Buster. Hungry?” GiGi had already set aside scraps for her furry friend. She knelt down in front of the hulking gray creature and set down a bowl of the leftover giblets from the night’s menu. “Not much of that stuff left for you tonight, Buster. The hipster foodies are actually eating organs these days, if you can believe it.”
Buster seemed to ignore her, but allowed her to stroke his neck and speak to him as he gobbled up the innards. “I hope you like your new bowl. I know it’s crazy and you’re not my pet, but I couldn’t help myself from going in to that cute little pet store down the street.”
She looked behind her, but it sounded as if her sous chef was still trying to get the rusty bucket of a dishwasher to work. The last thing GiGi needed was for a pregnant employee to peek outside and have the liver scared out of her at the sight of a wolf at the back door.
GiGi was barely making enough to cover the expense of having a full-time sous chef, but breaking even was the way it was going to be for the foreseeable future. Hopefully Uncle Lionel’s investment would hold out until she started turning a profit. GiGi had not wanted to accept his offer in the first place, but as an unknown in the business, and fresh out of culinary school, it was too tempting to pass up. So, she left her job as a line cook and took the leap.
“No niece of mine is gonna spend her best years waiting for her big break,” he’d said. This investment came at a price, as her sense of responsibility forced her to oversee every last detail of the cafe’s operations and work until her back ached, day in and day out.
“You’re nice company, Buster,” she said, stroking the wolf’s neck. “I feel like you get me. You should come around more than once a month. I’m too busy to have a pet at my place so this is a nice arrangement, even if all you’re interested in is hog intestines. At least it was a happy pig. You got the most pampered pig on the planet. No rabid squirrels for you tonight. Oh, but I almost forgot. I did save you something special.”
She took out a foil-wrapped package from her pocket and the wolf looked up with intense, ice-blue eyes, licking his chops. “Oh, you smell that squab already?” She laughed. “Here you go, stud. But shush, don’t tell the sous chef, she would freak if she knew I was doing this with the leftovers.”
The wolf downed the bird in seconds and then licked GiGi’s fingers clean. Then licked her face. GiGi laughed again. “You know, for a ferocious beast, you sure are full of sugar.” The wolf licked her whole face in one swipe. “All right, calm down, man.”
She stood when she heard footsteps coming toward the back of the restaurant, and then a voice. “GiGi, did you already bleach the cutting boards? I told you, let the crew do that.”
GiGi stood and glanced at the d
oor and called over, “Yeah, I know, but it takes two seconds and I was right there, so, you know. I can’t help it.” She turned back to the alley. The wolf was gone. There was no sign that he had even been there. The full moon lit up a damp, empty alleyway.
She sighed. Her big, terrifying gray pet was gone again.
The first time GiGi had seen the wolf in the alley, about a year ago, it had scared the shit out of her, obviously. But now they were basically best buddies. As much as someone like her could be friends with a huge, blue-eyed gray wolf.
GiGi looked off into the darkness and said, “See you next month, Buster.”
Chapter 2
Vann
The famous celebrity chef needed to find a way to get to his old buddy Ash’s engagement party without drawing too much attention to himself from the drunks on Bourbon Street.
It was Mardi Gras, so of course his driver couldn’t just pull up in front of Ash’s building.
“I can’t let you out this far away, it’s not safe,” said his driver. “How would it look if I abandoned the winner of the Foodie Network’s Carnivore World Series of Cooking?”
Vann West sighed. As ridiculous as that title sounded in his ears these days, it had been a huge hit and catapulted him to stardom.
The cable television cooking competition had boosted the popularity of his titular New Orleans restaurant in the Freret neighborhood by about 1000 percent. The winnings and the avalanche of new customers meant he was able to hire a staff the size of a small army, take on full-time assistants and open locations in the French Quarter and in Times Square.
And if that weren’t enough, his audacious behavior on the Foodie Network show—and some said his wolfy, ice blue eyes, flowing Thor-like hair and massive biceps—had scored him an extra dollop of attention. Now, a certain streaming television company was paying him to travel all over the world to eat and give his opinion on world affairs, as if he had an opinion that mattered. In what world could a hot-shot chef make so much money and not even have to cook?
At this moment in time, Vann West was the shit. And now, all he really wanted to do was crash the engagement party of one of his oldest friends without causing a ruckus. He finally decided that being the shit meant sometimes you had to suck up the attention. So, he got out of the car and looked at the crowds. He donned his baseball cap and sunglasses, pulled his leather jacket tight around himself and hoped for the best.
But on some level, if he was honest, he knew that getting recognized on the street doesn’t actually suck that bad.
Chapter 3
GiGi
GiGi barely registered what her cousin and best friend Rosemary was saying. It was so loud up here.
The idea of a rooftop engagement party overlooking Bourbon Street on Mardi Gras might have been the best or the worst idea ever. But that was Rosemary and Ash in a nutshell. Tonight, Rosemary was wearing a mask, and a dress entirely made out of beads. That’s right, all Mardi Gras beads. That girl was a wrecking ball and Ash was here for it, 100 percent.
But GiGi was good at rolling with the punches for her Rosemary, and the advance paycheck for catering tonight’s shindig was going to come in pretty damn handy. Maybe she could go all out and buy a fancier chef jacket for special events, rather than this one she wore tonight that was starting to fray at the edges.
Rosemary, slightly buzzed from some signature drink that Ash’s bartender friend Bobby had concocted for the night, had been lamenting to GiGi about one of Ash’s friends who was missing from the party that night. GiGi couldn’t hear half of it over the noise of this “gumbo-ya-ya,” but apparently said person had a crush on Ash. The whole idea was laughable; as if anything or anybody could get between Ash and Rosemary in the midst of their whirlwind — or hurricane — romance. GiGi, who didn’t have much experience in relationships, nodded and smiled and tried to change the subject by pointing out the amazing view of the French Quarter from up here on the rooftop.
“GiGi, these beignets are a-fucking-maze-balls, darlin’,” Rosemary said, finally moving on from the subject of missing party guest.
GiGi had also made, from scratch, mini-king cakes and cookies in the shape of wedding rings. For something savory, she went with homemade sausage and goat cheese wrapped in mini-pancakes. Everything was disappearing as fast as she and her sous chef and extra help could refill the serving trays.
GiGi smiled and shouted at her cousin over the din. “Rosie, I’m so happy for you and Ash, I had to do something special.”
Rosemary hugged her and said she had a few more requests. “I want you to do the cake for the wedding. Will you do it? Ash and I will pay whatever it takes to get it done. It’s got to be insane and only you know what I like.”
GiGi expected nothing less. “Absolutely. Anything you want. It would be an honor and I’ll do it as my gift to you.”
Rosie shook her head. “We’ll argue about that later. And since we’re in a bit of a rush to plan this thing in five months, can I lock down your people to do the catering as well?”
GiGi realized that when Rosemary said. “your people” she assumed that GiGi’s little struggling cafe had a staff of dozens of servers and extra help waiting in the wings just for big events. The truth was, GiGi had her sous chef, a line cook, about three servers, one host that doubled as a wait staff manager, and an out-sourced cleaning crew that came once a week.
As Rosemary shouted her requests over the loud music and revelry, GiGi smiled and nodded while anxiously doing acrobatic logistics and math in her head.
She knew she was going to throw herself into some extra debt for one big splashy event, but hopefully the payoff would be worth it. Word of mouth that rippled around from a DuChamps wedding was invaluable.
She’d just have to manage her time very closely. And hire more people. But the cakes? That would be all 100 percent her. Nobody was going to touch a DuChamps wedding cake but GiGi herself. Cake and pastry were her heart and soul.
Suddenly, there was a mood shift in the party. Rosemary turned, and GiGi followed her gaze. The hum of activity was coming from the rooftop’s doorway leading to the stairwell. GiGi heard excited shouts and claps and even some whistles. And then she got a view of flowing blond locks glinting under the torchlights. Vann West was in the house.
The crowd was freaking out. All GiGi could do was roll her eyes. Fuck. Me.
That over-built showboating barbecue-grill man who now thought he was an expert in world affairs had decided to crash her best friend’s engagement party because…why? And everyone was OK with this because he was male, blond, and spent most of his time cashing checks and yammering on TV about Vietnamese street food.
Yeah, she admitted it to herself. She was jealous. She wanted to go to Vietnam and eat street food and climb mountains and sleep on the beach and collect a paycheck from some anonymous subsidiary property management company that ran a restaurant with her name on it. Living his life that way certainly seemed to be good for his skin and hair.
“Oh, slap my mama, I heard he might be coming, but I didn’t believe it. Can you believe that’s one of Ash’s oldest friends?” Rosemary was ecstatic.
“I didn’t know,” GiGi replied, trying to look enthused.
The crowd that gathered around the blond behemoth finally calmed down. A little chick with fake boobs and a Barbie-thin waist was hanging on his every word and giggling at what GiGi assumed could not possibly have been that funny.
GiGi rolled her eyes and tried to focus on refilling her tray of appetizers.
As she worked her way through the crowd, with an excited Rosemary on her tail chattering way, GiGi couldn’t help but glance back at the celebrity chef. Soon, it seemed to GiGi that the famous Vann West did not seem at all interested in this Barbie-style woman. If GiGi was not mistaken, this world-traveling slab of too-perfect manhood was eyeing her. GiGi. In fact, every time she glanced over, his piercing blue eyes seemed to become more and more intense.
And, if GiGi was not mistaken, her dormant
nether regions were waking up at all this attention. As time passed and this strange behavior of his continued, she felt herself blushing, and despite her feelings about the idea of this man, felt herself becoming aroused.
Aroused was putting it mildly. Just being in the same room with a stare like that, she was afraid her panties were about to become sentient and remove themselves on their own.
Come on, GiGi, don’t be an idiot. He’s not staring at you. He’s probably hungry and staring at this platter of appetizers you’re holding.
She may not like the guy’s TV persona, but GiGi never turned away any creature who was hungry.
Chapter 4
Vann
Vann could hardly believe what he was looking at. What were the chances that his favorite chef in the whole entire world was at Ash Boudreaux’s engagement party?
He was not prepared to lay eyes on this beauty tonight, but now his eyes could not stop staring at her.
Vann had made a point to eat at GiGi’s Cafe twice each time he came home to New Orleans to take a break from filming. Once as a disguised customer in the dining room. And then, wearing an entirely different kind of disguise on full-moon nights, she would feed him out the back door to the alley behind the cafe.
And now, here he was in front of her as a man, undisguised, feeling totally exposed. He already knew he loved this woman. She was kind and generous and ridiculously talented, and had a gorgeous scent on her. Even in a chef’s uniform, with her hair pulled back in a bun, he could see the curve of her breasts, the tempting line of her jaw, the way she moved. It was all working for him. And she had absolutely no idea who he really was.