by Kay Marie
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” I ask her.
She lets out a breathy sigh. “It might sound silly, but I want to open my own bakery.” She must see the question on my face. Before I get a chance to ask why, she’s already telling me. “It’s something I’ve always done with my babushka, uh I mean, my grandma and my mama. They tell me I’m pretty talented for being so young, and I love it.”
Her face lights up as she talks about her plans. I smile at her. “You should have it be half a bookstore too since you love to read.”
She laughs. “That would be wonderful! What do you want to be?”
“I want to be a race car driver. To be honest, as long as I’m doing something with cars, I’ll be happy.” I’ve never told anyone, but all my friends and family understand my obsession with cars.
We’re so into our conversation we don’t even recognize lunch is about over until we see other kids leave to go back to class. We drop our lunch trays off and make our way back to our class.
“After lunch we have Social Studies. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, it’s Science,” I explain to her. “This week, we’re learning about oceans and continents.”
“Thank you for being such a good friend to me,” she says as we get closer to our class. “It means a lot to me.”
I smile at her. “Anytime, Cali.”
She tries to hide a smile at my nickname for her.
Chapter One
Buster
The Riders are on our first club gun run. Thor and Rascal are also with us. We’re meeting with the Bratva’s Sovietnik, Nikolay, in New Orleans. The Pakhan is in Russia on business and Nikolay is his right-hand man. They need a small batch of guns delivered while Nikolay is close by. I mean, it was only an eight-hour drive for us to get here. I’m not sure why they need such a small batch, but it’s not my job to ask questions. I only do what Bull tells me to do.
We arrived at our hotel, the Royal Sonesta— compliments of Nikolay, around three this afternoon. He got us three rooms for the six of us, all with balconies overlooking Bourbon Street. We don’t meet with him until tomorrow, so tonight, we’re going to have some fun. We decide to check out a restaurant called Olde Nola Cookery. It’s within walking distance of the hotel in case we decide to get some drinks. We leave our cuts in our hotel rooms so we don’t draw attention to ourselves. It takes under five minutes for us to get to the restaurant and it’s early enough before dinner time, we’re able to get a table pretty quick.
Observing the interior of this place, I can’t stop the thoughts of her. I’m curious if she’s been to New Orleans before. It’s a pretty colorful city. I bet out of everything here, she’d be most interested in Cafe Du Monde. The older we got, her love of baking also turned into a love of coffee. Cafe Du Monde is famous for its cafe au lait and beignets. I plan to check it out tomorrow morning. We’re trying to figure out what we’re going to do tonight when our waitress walks over to take our order.
“Can I get you fellas something to drink? Maybe an appetizer?”
“I’ll take a sweet tea and can we get some crabmeat cakes and some fried gator tail bites, please?” Rascal says.
We all take turns ordering our drinks and she goes to get them.
“You think they have a race scene out here?” Of course Clutch would ask about racing.
“Did I hear one of y’all ask about a race scene?” a guy sitting next to us says. “You wouldn’t happen to mean street racin’, would ya?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what he’s talkin’ about,” Rascal replies.
“We happen to race too. Name’s Gator,” he says. Gator takes out a pen and writes something on a napkin and hands it to Clutch. “Be at this address at nine tonight. That’s when shit goes down.”
“We’ll be there,” I say as our waitress is back to give us our drinks and take our order. Right after she leaves to put in our food order, we get our appetizers. Gator and the guy with him left already. It’ll be interesting to see the racing scene here. Maybe we’ll make another trip out here for more racing. We make small talk until our food arrives.
After we all finish eating, we still have some time to kill. We walk back to the hotel and Rascal, Thor, Shade, and I decide to check out Jazz Playhouse, while Clutch and Diesel run to their room to get their car keys. I keep mine on me at all times, out of habit. Shade wasn’t in the mood for racing tonight, so we’re only taking three of our cars. Thor and Rascal are riding along to watch. They aren’t riding their bikes so they don’t draw any unwanted attention.
It’s a quarter to nine when we’re loading into our cars to head out to the races. According to the GPS, it should only take us fifteen minutes to get there. I turn the key, letting my car roar to life.
“That sounds almost as sexy as my bike,” Rascal laughs.
I shake my head. “It’s much sexier,” I tell him.
“Agree to disagree. They’re different kinds of love,” he says.
I chuckle and put the car in gear, pulling out of my parking spot and heading toward the address Gator gave us. The GPS takes us out of the city to some abandoned buildings with long strips of roads. I know we’re in the right place because of all the cars lined up on the side of the road. We might be in a different city, but the race scene is pretty much the same anywhere you go. I park my car and Rascal and I get out at the same time.
“Hey! Y’all made it! Ça va? How are you,” Gator asks, walking toward us.
“Ready to race,” I respond. “We couldn’t pass up racing in a new city.”
“You won’t be disappointed. There’s some good competition around here,” Gator’s friend says. “I’m Biggie.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Buster, this is Rascal.” I point to Rascal beside me.
“The four idiots behind us are with us too.” Rascal hooks his thumb over his shoulder gesturing to the guys with a smug grin. Gator’s eyes light up with a trace of humor.
“Laissez les bon temps rouler! Come, I’ll introduce you to the rest of my crew,” Gator says. I give him a confused look as he turns and walks away. Biggie chuckles.
“It means, let the good times roll,” Biggie explains and I nod. We follow them to their cars.
“Holy shit, B. There are a lot of nice cars out here,” Shade says, now walking beside me.
“They look nice, but let’s see how they drive,” I tell him.
“You wanna take my spot in the next race,” Gator asks me.
I shrug. “Sure.”
“Twenty minutes and you’re up,” he says.
Twenty minutes flies by. I pull my car to the spray-painted start line not long before my opponent does. He revs his engine in an attempt to intimidate me and I smirk. He’s driving an Eclipse. Those cars aren’t usually as fast as they look or sound. I’d be stupid to be intimidated by that type of car. There’s a tire biter to count down the race.
She signals for us to go. I drop my car into gear and take off. The Eclipse is keeping up better than I anticipated, but I’m still ahead. I glance at the button to release NOS and hover my thumb over it. The Eclipse is inching closer and closer. I hit the NOS and go flying forward, crossing the finish line a whole car length in front of him.
I pull my car back around to where my crew is at and park. I hop out and they’re all surrounding me, congratulating me on my win.
“Brah!” Gator drawls out. “That was a nice win!”
“Thanks. That guy was better competition than I anticipated him to be.” I grin, floating on cloud nine from my adrenaline rush.
We stick around for Clutch and Diesel to race and to watch some locals before heading back to the hotel. Biggie wasn’t lying when he said there’s some good competition out here. We’ll have to come back to visit again soon.
“Hit us up if you’re ever in Austin,” I tell them before we leave for the hotel.
Tomorrow, we meet with Nikolay before we make our way back home. Shade and I are having a party at our new house in two short days.
&nb
sp; Chapter Two
Cali
Beep, beep, beep.
Four o’clock comes way too quick. I smack my alarm clock, silencing the excessive beeping. It has to be on an obnoxious setting. If my alarm plays music, I sleep through it, hearing whatever song it is in my dreams. I’m not one to hit snooze half a dozen times either.
I crawl out of bed and begin my morning routine. Today, I’ll be working in the kitchen at my bakery. Which means yoga pants, a t-shirt, and messy bun. I love working in the kitchen and getting to bake. My babushka introduced me to baking at a young age. I’d take any chance to bake for my family as a kid.
Now, I get to share my love with strangers every day. A Novel Bunch is more than a bakery. It’s also a coffee shop and bookstore. It’s everything I love all together in one little place. I received my Associate of Applied Science degree in pastry arts a couple of years after I graduated high school. My papa helped me with my shop financials until I got on my feet. Now, over three years after opening, A Novel Bunch is pretty successful. We have new customers often, and I try to change our menu a little as seasons change. We have a daily special which is always some kind of Russian dessert in honor of my babushka.
Aside from baking, I love meeting my customers and getting to learn about them. I’ve acquired a handful of regulars over the years. Some stop in before work. Some bring their laptops and work from the shop a few days a week. It’s a fun job all around.
I have some great employees as well. Emma was the first person I ever hired. I interviewed about ten people before her. What was meant to be a twenty-minute interview turned into a two-hour conversation. We’ve been best friends ever since and we’ve been living together for the past couple of years.
Sebastian, or Bash as Emma and I like to call him, joined us a short six months after we opened. The three of us are the only ones who are qualified to be in the kitchen, and between us three, one of us is always at the shop. We have a handful of college students working with us. It’s a pretty great team and for the most part, everyone gets along.
My Papa insists on me having a bodyguard at the bakery whenever I’m there. Yury arrives at the same time I do and hangs out in my office while I work, keeping an eye on the security cameras. I forget he’s there most of the time.
I leave my apartment at 4:40 a.m. and arrive at A Novel Bunch at five. We open at 6:00 a.m. and today, I’m opening with Chloe. She doesn’t mind working an early shift on Tuesdays and Thursdays since those are days she has classes later in the day. Emma and I worked our butts off in the early days of A Novel Bunch to have the day’s pastries prepped the day before. It makes it super easy for whichever one of us opens because all we need to do is put trays of pastries in the ovens. Not having to prep in the mornings makes it easier to get the rest of the shop up and running for the day, and it helps lessen the stress.
As soon as I get my purse put away in my office, I head to the kitchen and turn on the ovens to let them heat up. I go on autopilot doing all of the opening duties, only pausing to let Chloe in and to put the trays of pastries in the ovens. Our special today is sharlotka, which is a Russian apple cake. Sharlotka was the first thing Babushka taught me how to make and it’s always been one of my favorites. Our specials are one of the only things we prep and bake on the same day. Since Chloe has the front of the shop taken care of, I start preparing our sharlotka for the day.
I’m so busy prepping trays and baking different pastries, the morning flies by. I glance at the clock and it’s already ten. I walk out of the kitchen to Chloe and Emma doing some light cleaning behind the counter. This is about the time we have a cool-down period after our morning rush.
“She’s alive!” Emma shouts when she sees me and smiles.
“We thought we may have lost you to the Pillsbury dough man or something,” Chloe laughs out. Emma nudges Chloe’s side.
“It’s how she gets when she has to make those apple cakes,” Emma half whispers. Chloe’s mouth forms an O.
“Sorry, boss.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. I was in the zone. It happens more often than not.” I shoot Emma a pointed look and she shrugs at me.
“It happens more when those cakes are involved,” she whispers.
“I’m not having this discussion with you today,” I tell her as the bell above the door rings, signaling customers coming in.
“Good morning!” Chloe greets them. I glance up and see a couple of my favorite new regulars.
“Minx! Rivet! How are you, ladies?” I ask them. They stumbled into the shop back in August searching for some books to read. I recommended a couple of my favorites and suggested they try our daily special. They’ve been back at least once a week, usually more, ever since. They try to come on different days as they’ve enjoyed trying each different daily special. Her papa is president of the Savage Menaces MC and her, as she calls him, ol’ man is a patched member too. Rivet doesn’t have an ol’ man, but she acts as though her heart may be taken.
“We’re cravin’ some of that fantastic apple cake you only make on Thursdays,” Minx laughs out.
“You’re in luck! We still have quite a bit left.” I wink at her. Most of our daily specials don’t sell out until the late afternoon unless it’s a Saturday or Sunday. We switch our daily specials every month and when sharlotka is a special on either of those days, we make more and still manage to sell out pretty quick.
“Would it be possible to buy a whole cake?” Rivet asks shocking me. The Russian specials have been popular, but I’ve never had anyone ask to buy a whole cake or a large quantity of any other Russian pastries. We’ve only ever gotten custom cake and cupcake orders. Every once in a while, someone will order a couple of dozen cookies, but cakes are more popular.
“Yeah! Of course. Is it for a special occasion? If you need it for a certain day, I can bake a fresh one the day you need it and you can come by and get it,” I suggest.
“That would be great! Some of the brothers finally got moved into a house, so they’re having a housewarming BBQ and bonfire tomorrow. I can swing by and grab it around three, if that works for you?” Minx tells me. I haven’t been to a bonfire since . . . nevermind that thought. I won’t go there.
“That’s perfect. Would you both like a piece for today?” I grin, already knowing the answer.
“Yes, please.” Minx smiles. “Can we also each have a cafe au lait, please?”
“With french vanilla syrup?” They tried a cafe au lait with french vanilla when they came in last week. It was a chilly morning. Minx had told me she wanted to try something new and asked me to surprise her. Both she and Rivet ended up loving it.
“Of course! Thanks for getting me hooked on this. I might come in every day for one once it’s chilly enough.” Minx laughs.
“And what about him?” I nudge my head in Mouse’s direction. From what Minx told me, he’s what they call a prospect for the MC. He does whatever patched-in members ask of him. He has come with Minx and Rivet every time they come to A Novel Bunch, acting as their bodyguard.
Minx acts frustrated about it most of the time, but I can tell by the gleam in her eyes she’s thankful to have him around. I don’t know what happened to her for her to need a bodyguard, but I can understand her frustration. I have one of my own who sits in my office, watching security cameras while I work.
My papa is Pakhan of the Bratva. For years now, he’s traveled between the states and Russia. He always makes sure my mama and I are well protected while he’s in Russia. He stays for two weeks and then will stay here in Texas for anywhere from two weeks to a month. Ever since I graduated, Mama has been traveling with him more and more. Leaving me under the watchful eyes of my brothers, Viktor and Gleb, and my bodyguard, Yury.
“Black coffee for Mouse. He said he didn’t want anything to eat,” Rivet tells me. I ring up their order and take their payment while Emma makes their drinks. I make a note to make a sharlotka for them tomorrow and to have it ready by two. I get slices of sharlotka for them
to have now. Emma gives them their drinks, and I walk around the counter with their cakes, following them to a table close to the romance books.
“Enjoy your sharlotka, ladies.” I set them on the table.
“Thanks, Cali!” Minx says. “Hey, you should come to our BBQ tomorrow. You could bring Emma too.”
“That sounds fantastic, but we already made plans for a girls' night out. She talked me into going dancing.”
“I would definitely rather go dancing,” Rivet sighs and Minx rolls her eyes at her. I chuckle at them.
“Well, maybe one weekend the four of us can go dancing together,” I tell her and she beams.
“Now, that sounds fantastic,” Rivet exclaims.
“Well, I better get back to work. I have some cupcakes to make for a Halloween themed birthday party. We’ll plan something soon!”
We say our farewells and I go back into the kitchen to bake two dozen cupcakes.
Chapter Three
Buster
Shade and I found a house to rent about a month ago and moved in last weekend. It’s a four-bedroom, three-bathroom house on a couple of acres, and it’s about five minutes from the clubhouse. It’s not that we don’t like staying at the clubhouse, but we needed a space of our own. A place to go and unwind with a little more privacy. Clutch and Diesel wanted to stay at the clubhouse. Easier access to the cut bunnies. But we got a house big enough in case they change their minds. We still spend half our time at the clubhouse anyway.
In honor of us finding a house, we chose to have a BBQ and bonfire. It’s getting to be the perfect time of year for bonfires. My favorite time of year. I somehow drew the short straw and am the lucky bastard who gets to do the grocery shopping. Minx was kind enough to make a list for me. Her and Rivet offered to make all the sides for tonight. They said they would be at our house at four o’clock sharp. Shade and I spent all morning cleaning the backyard and preparing wood for the bonfire.
