by Roxy Wynn
“Really, it’s no trouble. She was just excited, there’s no reason…”
With a wave of his hand, the man summoned the server and escorted her into the kitchen. And when I turned to confront Alex, she was gone.
As if this day couldn’t get any worse, when I arrived on set, photographers surrounded the building. The building itself was very secure, but there was a brief walk from the parking lot where a reporter could get to you if they really wanted.
Mostly we just dealt with it and gave quick interviews to plug the show, but today was different. Today the parking lot was packed, and it had nothing at all to do with the filming of Drake’s final scene.
“Jax! Jax!” A woman with a microphone followed me as I walked to the entrance. “Who is this woman you’re seeing?” I kept my usual cool and stared straight ahead as someone else approached from my right. “Is it true you’re dating a plus sized woman?”
“What the fuck?” I yelled. The questions came from all sides so I wasn’t sure which asshole said it, but security guard Hank was on it. All seven feet of him cleared the path for me to enter the building. Using his meaty biceps, he pushed reporters out of the way with ease. Before I knew it, I was safely tucked inside.
I took a moment to catch my breath, watching the complete chaos erupting outside the studio door.
“Let’s go lover boy,” Melody said, grabbing me by the arm. “Last scene together and I get to kill you.”
How did everything spiral out of control in less than an hour?
I’m so sorry, Chrissy.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chrissy
“Is this it?” Tiffany asked. The venue was even more glamorous than I imagined. There was a garish gold fountain at the front which led to a grand entrance covered in roses.
The couple was currently in the church located at the far corner of the property saying their vows, which meant the vans parked out front had to be the catering team.
It wasn’t until we parked the van and began unloading the cakes that I realized we were wrong. Instead of catering vans, we found ourselves bombarded with photographers. They poured out of their vans like cockroaches, yelling their questions and snapping as many pictures as they could get. I worried the yelling would make its way into the church.
“Quick, inside,” a tall black man said, holding the door open for us. His eyes were trained on the swarm of reporters chasing us. Grabbing Tiff’s hand, we hauled ass to safety.
“All of our security is stationed by the church for the bride. Why are the reporters on this side of the building?” the man asked into a microphone on his lapel.
Without thinking, I stammered. “They’re here for me! I am so, so sorry this is happening.” A lump formed in the back of my throat. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, I repeated inside my head. Why couldn’t these people just let me finish this one cake?
“I’ll deal with this,” he said, placing his hand on my arm. “I need you to get that cake set up as soon as possible because when Priscilla walks in, she is to be photographed with it for the album. Do you have all of your supplies?”
I looked from his face to Tiffany’s. Only half his words made any sense. “Everything is in the van,” I answered.
Confused as to why this wedding required so much security, I glanced around the reception hall. For such a high end affair, it did seem odd that there were only a handful of tables set up for guests.
What the hell?
He gestured to two well dressed, no nonsense men. “Go to this young woman’s van, collect the boxes and whatever else she may need. Bring them inside as quickly as you can. I will deal with the paparazzi.”
He gestured to us again. “You two stay inside, away from the windows. You have twenty minutes to get this cake done and lead them away or I will make sure you never do another wedding cake in this town again.”
I turned to Tiffany, whose eyes were wide as saucers. “You heard the man, let’s do this.”
Not wasting a second, we got to work setting up the world’s fastest wedding cake display on a large golden display table.
“Dear God, is this for the cake?” I asked in disbelief. The entire venue looked like a throwback to Liberace. Not one surface was free from gold or glitter and all things that sparkled. From the crystal chandelier to the golden cupids shooting each other, this was perhaps the tackiest wedding I had ever seen. And my cake was the center piece. Yikes.
I set the bottom, and largest tier, in place, and went to work securing wooden dowels. Since it was a six tier cake covered in fondant, it needed all the support it could get. The finished product would be very, very heavy.
Yet another reason we assembled at the venue and not the bakery.
“Ok, are you ready for it?” Tiffany asked. The next tier was free from its box, in her hands, and ready to go.
“Yup, drop it down, gently.” While I hammered dowels into each new tier, Tiffany moved on to the next box, inspecting the fondant and icing for any imperfections before handing it off to me for placement.
After putting the top tier in place, the finishing touch was a mountain of blood-red roses to offset the pure white fondant. To be honest, it kind of worked with all the gold around.
Though the flowers were organic, we couldn’t just stick them into the cake bare. That would be gross. So we used straws as a buffer. Lots and lots of straws.
While Tiffany clipped each stem down to size, I wrapped the exposed end in plastic, pushed it through a straw, and pressed it into place on the cake.
“How much longer, ladies?” The security guard asked. I guess busting paparazzi skulls wasn’t nearly as time consuming as I hoped it would be.
“I’m sorry, we are going as fast as we can,” I said. The sweat was pouring from my brow.
When I placed the last rose, I took a step back to admire my work. For how much trouble this whole thing turned out to be, the wedding cake was absolutely gorgeous. It stood tall and proud in the center of the room, under the chandelier, like a beacon. It was way better looking than the rest of the gaudy decor.
I took my phone from my pocket to snap a quick pic, but the guard grabbed my arm.
“But, I need to get a picture for my portfolio…”
“No photos allowed. You can see the cake when the rest of the world sees the cake. Now get the rest of those cameras out of here.”
I wanted to argue, but I could tell Tiffany was at the end of her rope. Covered in royal icing and tiny thorn injuries, she was done. Sarah and I would be lucky if she didn’t quit after this. Sighing, I put my phone back in my pocket.
We loaded our cart with the empty boxes to take back to the van. As soon as we walked back into the humid day, the flashes started.
“Chrissy!” “Over here!”
I pushed Tiffany into the passenger seat while I addressed the crowd. “Hey assholes, do not fuck this wedding up. If you want and exclusive of all the dirty details with Jax, you’ll need to follow us to Ruby’s.”
My plan wasn’t perfect, but at least it would get them to leave the wedding venue and hopefully the bride would never know they were here.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chrissy
“Did they Photoshop this?” I asked, staring at the photo of my ass covering the magazine page. It was hard to believe that less than twenty-four hours after delivering my first wedding cake, my face… and ass… were all over the tabloids.
“Your ass is big but not that big,” Sarah said. She brought me a warm cinnamon roll on a plate to help calm me down.
We were hiding out in the office today while Tiffany manned the front and the bakers worked in back. After yesterday’s delivery, I needed to lie low, and let someone else run things for a while.
I needed my best friend.
And several cinnamon rolls.
As much as I wanted to go to Jeff’s house last night, I needed some time to cool down and process the events of the day before I could face him. My delivery, and the entir
e wedding, was almost ruined because of our relationship. I didn’t know how to feel. I’m falling in love with him, but was that enough to jeopardize my bakery?
When he called last night, I let it go to voice mail and instead texted him back saying everything was fine.
The wedding, according to the event coordinator who does not like after hours phone calls, went off without a hitch. All my reporters had left the scene, and neither the bride, nor Mrs. Calloway were the wiser.
“What I don’t understand,” Sarah said as she took her rolling seat next to me. “Is why they are so obsessed with you. It’s not like you’re a hit man or anything. You’re a baker.”
“I know, but to these people, Jeff dating me is unheard of. Like he found me in a dumpster.”
“That’s being a little harsh, don’t you think?”
“No.” I fished the center out of the cinnamon roll and placed its sweet goodness into my mouth before discarding the rest of the plate. “One dude even said it. He asked how much I weighed. I’m a fatty Mc Butterpants.”
“One asshole made a stupid remark. That’s it. None of the papers or blogs I read mentioned your weight at all. They just refer to you as a non celebrity.” She reached over and took her piece of the cinnamon roll off the plate and popped it in her mouth. “And who knows, this might even end up being good exposure for the bakery. Tiffany said our sales have been crazy today.”
“I can’t even bring myself to show my face up there.”
“I know, but it’ll get better. In a week no one will remember this and you can go back to being my favorite wedding cake maker.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said, placing my head in my hands.
I couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Two months ago, if you had asked me about my dating life, I would have said it was nonexistent and not very noteworthy. Now? Apparently had become something little girls all over the world could look up to. Someone who snagged a rich celebrity and lived to tell the tale.
Tiffany popped her head into the office. “Hey Chrissy, there’s a woman out here to see you.”
“Does she have a camera?” I asked.
“No, but she looks very fancy. She looks like she could be on the cover of business women’s weekly. Also, I could use some help out here.”
I turned to Sarah. “Fancy?”
“I don’t know, maybe she wants to give you money,” Sarah said. “Or arrest you.”
“Arrest me?”
“I’m kidding, go see what she wants.” She pushed me out the office door and gave me a gentle nudge in the ass with her foot when I didn’t move any further.
When we rounded the corner, we saw a line bigger than we had ever seen inside Ruby’s. The pastry case was almost empty and people started whispering to one another as we walked out. Sarah gave me a look that said, see I told you so, before going behind the counter to help Tiffany.
The woman waiting in the corner could have been a Greek Goddess. At nearly six feet tall, she had perfect hair, perfect skin, and perfect teeth.
Perfect, I thought. Just what I need today, a reminder of how not perfect I am.
I watched her beautiful green eyes dart back and forth over the crowd of people, and our retro decor with interest. She resembled a high-powered executive, and I couldn’t help but feel like Jeff was behind this somehow.
I smiled at her as I walked over, but her face was all business.
“Hi, I’m Chrissy, how can I help you?” I asked, reaching out to shake her hand.
Hesitating, she reached out her perfectly manicured hand and shook mine.
Perfect.
“I’m Alex Vale, Jeffrey Jaxon’s business partner. I’m here to discuss this building and your role here once the acquisition is complete.”
I could not have been more surprised if she ripped off her face and revealed she was Betty White.
“I’m sorry. What acquisition? What are you talking about?”
Her eyes narrowed as she sized me up. “Surely Jax has mentioned that we are in the process of purchasing this building?” The edges of her lips began the slightest of a curl upward. The first hint of a smile since she walked in the door.
The color drained from my face, and for a moment, I thought I might pass out. “No, he did not mention that.” I felt sick.
“What are your plans with this bakery, Ms. Hayes? I assume you know you are on a month-to-month lease.” The last part came out like a question, but she continued. “Should we consider drafting a lease for you, you’ll need to make some changes. We will need to see all of your financials within the next few days to make a decision as to how we can utilize this space best. It’s my understanding that Jeff has inspected this space for our brewpub/condo concept and he was confident that the foot traffic here made it an ideal space.”
“What is my plan?” All of this was coming out of left field for me and I couldn’t wrap my head around what was happening. Jeff has been scoping out Ruby’s to turn it into a brewpub? Was he just using me for the bakery? Or better yet, to see how our business was before he bought the building out from under us? I was so hopped up on adrenaline and sugar, my hands trembled.
“I plan to continue running the place because it’s what I’ve wanted my whole life. And besides, business is great.” I gestured to the line currently out the door.
“Well that was not the impression Jeff gave me on the phone. Like I said, get your financials together and call my office to schedule a meeting next week.” She handed me her business card complete with her name, phone number, and the title CFO Bayview Investments.
Rage filled my body. First the paparazzi and now this chick. Who did she think she was?
“I’m sorry Alex, that isn’t going to work for me. We have put a ton of cash into this bakery and I don’t intend to sell or move anytime in the near future.” The anger was starting to slip out, and I could hear my voice wavering.
Just hold it together and cry in the office when she leaves.
“And furthermore, Martha, the building owner, would never sell this building. She’s owned it forever and plans to do so until she dies. I feed her cookies, she fucking loves me.”
“Martha may not be planning on selling, but she’s seventy-six years old. Her sons, the ones who run her business, are. I just came from their office on the sixth floor. They are motivated to sell and we have plenty of capital to do so.”
“Get out,” I said quietly.
“Excuse me?”
“I said get out of my bakery. Now.” The tears were close now, and I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of witnessing my rage tears.
“You’ll be hearing from our lawyers,” she said as she turned to leave.
Did that bitch smile?
I couldn’t even face Sarah, or the group of people who chose that moment in particular to take a photo of me with their cell phone.
I was done.
This whole time I’ve been seeing Jeff and now I find out it’s all been a ploy to get Ruby’s. I couldn’t think of a more fucked up scenario, but the more I stewed on it, the more it made sense. There’s no way a guy like him would ever date me, unless there was a financial interest.
I felt used and cheap.
Turning on my heel, I made it into the office just before the tears poured out. Everything I knew or thought I knew was a lie.
Sarah came in after me less than a minute later. “Who was that lady? Is everything ok?”
I looked up at her. “That exquisite blonde lady was Alex, Jeff’s business partner. They plan to buy the building and put a brewpub where Ruby’s is. That is unless we wow them with our financials, which she wants in the next few days.” I was full crying now, complete with runny eyeliner and boogers. “He’s been scoping the building out. It’s why he came here.”
Sarah’s eyes grew wide. “What the fuck? Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.” I blew my nose on the tri-fold paper towels we kept on our desk to clean up cinnamon roll messes. �
�What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know.” She pulled her chair up next to me. “Maybe this is the wrong time to tell you, but business had been incredible today. I checked our numbers while Tiff helped customers, and we have made more today than we have this entire week. Maybe it’ll all work out.”
“How could it work out? We’ve spent all of our money trying to make this space ours. How could we walk away from it now?”
She sighed. “Maybe we won’t have to. And if we do, maybe these new customers will follow us someplace new.”
“Not when I break it off with Jeff.”
“I thought you were crazy about him?”
“I am. Or… was… I don’t know how to feel about him. Everything I thought I knew was a lie. If he’s had a diabolical plan the whole time to destroy my life, how can I let that go?”
I didn’t know what we would do, but I knew my heart was aching, badly.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jax
I was packing up six years worth of belongings when Alex burst through the door of my trailer like she owned the place.
“Jesus,” I said. “You scared the shit out of me. Do you not remember how to knock… or use a phone?”
She set her briefcase down on my small dining table and opened my liquor cabinet, pouring both of us a bourbon.
“That little stunt you pulled on that poor bakery girl really wasn’t very nice.” Making herself comfortable, she sat on the couch and stretched her long, tan legs out in front of her.
“What stunt?” I asked, hoping it didn’t mean what I thought it did.
“You know, the one where you start sleeping with the bakery owner instead of just checking out the building like a good boy. It’s all over the tabloids, Jax. In fact, they were there just now at her little bakery. Snapping pictures, getting all giddy about getting close to the person sleeping with the Jeffrey Jaxon.”
