Delectable Desire

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Delectable Desire Page 2

by Farrah Rochon


  Carter nodded. “We’re providing four cakes in all. A Bengal tiger, a silverback gorilla, a giraffe and a Nicobar pigeon. One of my former classmates is loaning me a few of his students from the culinary school he just opened. We’re going to transport the tiger, gorilla and pigeon, but the giraffe will have to be constructed on-site.”

  “Sounds as if you have everything under control.”

  “I always have things under control,” Carter snapped, grimacing at the unwarranted bite in his tone. He blamed the earlier conversation with his dad for his irritability.

  Shari eyed him curiously. “Maybe you should lay off the clubbing and get more sleep at night. You’d be in a better mood.”

  Carter let her remark pass. It was no mystery to his cousins that he liked to have a good time, and he made no apologies. He was young, single and financially set for life thanks to his family’s business. And, according to popular opinion, he wasn’t hard on the eyes, either. Why the hell shouldn’t he get out there and enjoy himself?

  He took a cursory tour around the kitchen, making sure everything was going according to schedule. They had several big orders to get out today, including a cake for an event being hosted by the mayor’s office. Lillian’s most important asset was its reputation, and Carter made it his business to make sure every dessert that left this kitchen lived up to his grandmother’s incredibly high standards.

  Amber Mitchell, one of their assistant bakers who doubled as the receptionist, rounded the corner. “Carter, there’s a guy out front who needs to speak to someone about setting up an event tasting. Belinda and Drake are both busy with other customers. Can you talk to him?”

  “Does this guy have a name?” he asked Amber, who’d turned her attention to a cake that was ready to be frosted.

  She hunched her shoulders. “Probably. He’s in a three-piece suit and is wearing an awful toupee.”

  “That helps,” he drawled.

  Carter headed for the retail area. The hard work happened behind the scenes in the kitchen, but it was the storefront that truly awed the bakery’s customers. The opulent, yet tasteful, decor was just one of the things that made the name Lillian’s synonymous with class and sophistication.

  Gilding burnished the rich mahogany woodwork, sparkling under the illumination of crystal chandeliers. The polished marble countertops that were inlaid with ribbons of copper and gold made a statement about Lillian’s long history of catering to Chicago’s elite.

  Sunlight streamed in from the huge windows that faced North Michigan Avenue. Nestled inside the bay windows were displays of lavishly decorated cakes and delectable desserts. They had discovered over the years that showcasing the bakery’s products was, by far, the most effective way to entice patrons to step inside the store’s welcoming glass doors.

  Carter spotted the gentleman in the three-piece suit. He was peering into the custom-made glass display case that ran the width of the store.

  “Carter Drayson,” he greeted, holding out a hand. “How can I help you?”

  The man returned the handshake. “Lowell Thompson. I’m a client of Bowen and Associates on the third floor. Howard Bowen recommended Lillian’s for an event my company is sponsoring next month.”

  “Howard is a very good customer.”

  “He tells me Lillian’s sells the best desserts around. I’m new to Chicago, so I’m still learning my way.”

  “Well, let me give you the most delicious tour you’ll ever take in this city.”

  Carter retrieved a small silver platter from behind the counter and picked out several sweets from the array of intricately decorated cupcakes, pies and Lillian’s famous petit fours.

  As Lowell Thompson sampled a dark chocolate espresso cupcake, Carter explained that nearly every item could be made in miniature sizes, more suitable to cocktail parties and other catered events.

  “You have an impressive operation going here,” the man commented.

  “It’s been going for several decades, and it just keeps growing. These are our newest bestsellers.” Carter motioned to the shelves lined with Lillian’s latest hot item: ingredients for their most popular cookie and brownie flavors in prepackaged mixes that customers could bake at home. It had been his cousin Shari’s idea, and it was turning out to be a lucrative one. Even so, most of their customers claimed that no matter how hard they tried, the make-at-home desserts didn’t have that special Lillian’s touch.

  “I’m running late for a meeting, but if you have some time later this afternoon, I’d like to return and discuss a few options.”

  “Absolutely.” Carter retrieved a business card from his pocket. “Why don’t you log on to our website and look over our product offerings? If there’s something special you’re seeking, just let me know. We’ll work with you.”

  Carter bade the man goodbye and turned back toward the kitchen, but he stopped short at the sight of a woman standing at the register talking to his cousin Drake. He’d never seen her in the bakery before. His gaze traveled over her soft yellow skirt and matching silk blouse, taking in every nuance. Even though the clothes were a bit stuffy for Carter’s taste, he had to admit that she wore them well. Damn well.

  She was petite—couldn’t top more than five feet—with milky, caramel-colored skin and luxuriant light brown hair streaked with honey-colored highlights. She was what his grandmother would call a classic beauty.

  And she came from money. No doubt about it.

  Her clothes said it, but the bling in her ears and around her wrist practically screamed it.

  After less than a minute of observing her, Carter had already sized her up. He could tell the kind of person she was simply by the way she held herself: regal, untouchable. Not his usual type of woman—the exact opposite, in fact. His usual type wore about eighty percent less clothing. But there was something about this one that made him want to ruffle her feathers.

  Carter started for the counter, but halted as a mother who’d been picking out pastries with her young son cut him off. The little boy, who was holding a cupcake, walked smack into Ms. Prim and Proper, smearing icing all over the designer jacket she held draped over her arm.

  Carter stood back and waited for the fireworks.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry!” the mother exclaimed, grabbing the mushed cupcake from the boy’s hand.

  Prim and Proper lifted the jacket to eye level, regarded the offending stain...and licked it.

  Carter’s head jerked back.

  “Mmm. That’s pretty good. I see why my jacket wanted a taste,” she said, smiling down at the little boy, who giggled in return. “But it looks as if you need a new cupcake.” She motioned for Drake to give the little boy another one.

  Shock rooted Carter where he stood. That wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. Neither had he expected a simple smile to transform her from reserved to...approachable. Very approachable.

  Carter sidled up to the counter where she’d redirected her attention to Drake and a cake brochure she’d apparently brought in from one of their competitors.

  “You made the right choice,” Carter said, motioning to the brochure.

  She turned to him. “Excuse me?”

  “The cakes here at Lillian’s are a thousand times better than what you’ll get over there.” He extended his hand. “Carter Drayson, one of the head pastry chefs. And you are?”

  She hesitated for the merest moment before accepting his outstretched hand. Carter’s initial suspicion was confirmed: she definitely came from money. No way had this smooth palm ever engaged in a millisecond of physical labor.

  “Lorraine,” she replied.

  “It’s my deepest pleasure to meet you, Lorraine.” He executed a short bow. “Welcome to Lillian’s.”

  “You mind, Carter?” This from Drake. “I’m trying to help Lorraine with her order.”

  “What’s the occasion?” Carter asked. “Birthday?”

  “Wedding shower,” Drake answered.

  Disappointment shot through him. Wel
l, that was fun while it lasted.

  “My sister’s wedding shower,” Lorraine interjected.

  Carter’s radar immediately went on high alert. She had been pretty quick to clarify that bit of information, and wasn’t that interesting as hell?

  Deciding to temporarily dismiss the fact that Lorraine wasn’t his usual type, Carter retrieved the sample brochure from his cousin’s hand, earning an annoyed look from Drake.

  “Nothing you’ll find at this place will be good enough,” he continued as he examined the brochure. He glanced at Drake, whose stare was downright murderous. As if Carter cared. His morning had suddenly taken an interesting twist. He needed to know whether there was something more lurking underneath Miss Prim and Proper’s stuffy outfit.

  Although Carter still wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t his type. Was she? No, she definitely wasn’t his type.

  Yet he felt the smile he normally invoked only when he was going in for the kill draw across his face.

  “Your sister’s wedding shower deserves something more than a generic cake,” he continued. “Although even the generic cakes at Lillian’s are much better than anything else you’ll find in this city.”

  “Carter, don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Drake bit out.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. In my office with Lorraine here. I think we need to put our heads together and come up with something extra special for your sister’s wedding shower.” He tossed the brochure in the trash behind the counter and motioned to Lorraine. “Follow me.”

  She looked from him to Drake and then back at him.

  “Come on.” Carter gestured. “It’ll be painless, I promise.”

  Two well-arched eyebrows peaked over her expressive brown eyes. She directed her question to Drake. “Is it safe to follow him back there?”

  “Depends on who you ask” was his cousin’s answer before turning his attention to another customer who had just walked through the door.

  Carter led her down the hallway and into one of the two offices used for customer consultations. He offered her a seat before retrieving an order form from the cherry filing cabinet.

  “So, what’s the theme of the shower?” he started.

  “I’m not sure we’ve established a theme, per se. It will be your typical bridal shower.”

  “What can you tell me about your sister? What are some of her hobbies?”

  Lorraine’s shoulders stiffened defensively. “Why do you need to know about Trina’s hobbies?”

  “So we’ll know what kind of cake would work best for her wedding shower.”

  “I don’t understand. It is just a cake,” she said.

  “Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorraine.” Carter shook his head. “There is no such thing as just a cake. Not here at Lillian’s.”

  The smooth skin on her forehead creased in a dubious frown.

  Damn, she was cute. Still not his type, but cute.

  “Where is the shower being held?” he asked.

  “The tearoom at the Drake Hotel.”

  “Nice,” Carter said. “Sophisticated.”

  She choked out a laugh; it transformed her entire expression.

  “What, is your sister not nice?” he asked.

  “My sister is one of the nicest people I know. But she is definitely not stuffy and sophisticated. If I were to ask Trina’s opinion, I suspect she would choose a nice Irish pub or even a sports bar to hold her bridal shower. However, stronger forces prevail.”

  “So she’s into sports?”

  Lorraine nodded. “Sports, and the outdoors. She has always been the athletic twin.”

  “You’re twins?” Another tidbit revealed.

  “I didn’t mention that? Yes, Trina is my twin sister. We are fraternal, but the fact that we are twins is unmistakable.”

  “So she’s beautiful and she’s into outdoor activities,” Carter commented.

  An instant blush blossomed on Lorraine’s cheeks. “Thank you,” she said. “That is very sweet of you.”

  “I bake cakes for a living. I can’t help being sweet,” he said, adding a deliberate dose of flirtation to his grin.

  Lorraine’s eyes lit with amusement. “Do you practice these lines, or do they come naturally?”

  Carter’s grin widened. “It’s natural.” He was having way more fun than he usually did during a cake consultation.

  “I can tell,” she said. “You are a natural-born flirt.” She crossed her ankles in that proper way his aunt Daisy sat, and folded her hands on her knee. “So, what do you need to know about Trina?”

  Carter glanced down at the form on the desk. He was supposed to be working, wasn’t he? “You said she’s into outdoor activities. What’s her favorite?”

  “Scuba diving. Much to my parents’ chagrin. They are both afraid she will eventually drown, or be bitten by a shark, or some other such nonsense.”

  Carter snapped his fingers. “What about a deep-sea-themed bridal shower?”

  Her frown returned, her expression becoming even more uncertain than before. “You don’t know my mother,” she said. “I doubt she would go for Little Mermaid party hats.”

  “Think seashells sprinkled with diamond dust and live coral centerpieces.” Carter spun away from his desk and went over to one of the bookcases lining the wall. He pulled down a binder from two years ago, and flipped to June, finding pictures of a cake he’d made for a birthday party that had rivaled most wedding cakes. Ironically, the party did have Disney’s The Little Mermaid as the overriding theme, but the “Under the Sea” cake he’d made had been much more refined.

  He took the chair opposite Lorraine’s and spread the binder out across his lap, turning it so it faced her.

  “Goodness,” she breathed. “That is gorgeous.”

  “It’s one of my favorite cakes,” Carter said, feeling the surge of pride that always surfaced when talking about his creations. This one had put him into another stratosphere in the cake-making world. It had taken a full twelve hours to decorate, and that was after he had spent several days crafting seashells, sea horses, starfish and other ocean creatures out of gum paste.

  “I could make the colors softer, and add edible glitter to make it more elegant,” Carter continued.

  She studied the pictures for several minutes, flipping through the pages to view the pictures he’d taken from every angle. “It is beautiful,” she mused. “But everyone will be expecting a traditional cake.”

  “So, why not defy expectations? Pardon the pun, but can you imagine the splash something like this would make? In my opinion, this is much more worthy of the Drake than your run-of-the-mill tiered cake.”

  Carter could see the indecision flickering across her features, and was afraid he’d gone too far with the hard sell. A smidgen of self-reproach attacked his conscience, because he suddenly realized that he wasn’t thinking as much about selling a cake as he was thinking about selling himself. To her. He wanted to wow her with his skills.

  “You don’t have to make the decision right now,” Carter said, backing off a bit. “Why don’t you take a day to think it over? You can call tomorrow and let me know what you decide.”

  Still studying the pictures, she shook her head and said, “I don’t need any more time. I’ve already made my decision.” She sat upright and gave him a firm nod. “I want this cake.”

  “You sure?” Carter asked. “Really, you can take your time.”

  “No. I want it just as you described it, with the softer colors and the shimmering glitter. I want it to look like an enchanted underwater fantasy.”

  “Well, if you’re sure, we can put the order in now. You’ll just have to put twenty percent down.”

  She opened the snap on the designer clutch she held in her lap and pulled out several hundred-dollar bills. “How much is the deposit?”

  “That will depend on the size of the cake, and on the extent of the work that will need to be done. Let me get a bit more information from you, and then we’ll work up a price.”
/>   Her eagerness was laced with something else, a certain resolve that shouldn’t come from simply ordering a cake. He worked up her order and gave her the invoice. Instead of putting down a deposit, she paid for the eighteen-hundred-dollar cake in full. In cash. That was something he didn’t see every day.

  After they’d concluded their meeting, Carter walked her out of the office and back to the showroom.

  Lorraine held out her hand to him. “Thank you so much for your help,” she said. “I cannot believe it took a stranger to help me come up with the perfect theme for my own twin’s wedding shower, but I am very grateful you did. Trina is going to love this.”

  “Happy I could help,” Carter said, still holding on to her soft hand. He had no desire to let it go anytime soon. He slipped his hand into his left pocket and pulled out one of his business cards, handing it to her. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call me. Anytime.”

  She smiled. Damn, her smile was nice.

  “Thank you, Carter.”

  And with that, she was gone.

  For a few moments Carter contemplated following her, but after coming in over an hour late this morning, he knew better than to leave the bakery.

  His thoughts stretched back to the conversation he’d had with his dad earlier, and Carter acknowledged what he had to do. His cousins already had an unfair advantage over him when it came to Lillian’s. It was time he proved to this family once and for all just what he was worth to them...even if he might not be working here for much longer.

  Chapter 2

  As she exited the bakery, Lorraine slipped on her Roberto Cavalli sunglasses and headed up Michigan Avenue. She couldn’t risk walking any faster than a casual stroll; her heart was already beating triple time.

  She had not been prepared for the likes of Carter Drayson.

  Her hand still tingled from their parting handshake. His fingers were long, the skin slightly rough, with a couple of darker spots, as if he’d been burned by a hot cake pan a time or two.

  And he was gorgeous. Seriously, unquestionably gorgeous.

  From the moment he’d stepped up to the counter and introduced himself, Lorraine had been aware of every breath that had left her lungs, because it had been just that hard to breathe around him. It wasn’t the first time she’d been immediately bowled over by a charming guy, but it had never been that intense. His silky voice, vibrant smile and overpowering charisma had hit her like a Midwestern tornado in the middle of the active season.

 

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