by Ciara Knight
“Good morning. You look awful. Didn’t you sleep?” Knox relaxed in the booth, stretching and putting his arm behind Lori like a bad blind-date move. Lori shot him a sideways, don’t-even-think-about-it look. He sat back up.
“Where’s Roxy?” Lori asked.
“Sleeping. She had her morning run around the office.”
Lori slid out of the booth with her coffee mug in hand. “I’ll grab you today’s coffee special. Don’t kill him while I’m gone. He still signs our checks for now, you know.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll get my own refill,” Knox said loud enough to draw a few prying people to edge closer to their table. “Sit. Tell me why you look like you haven’t slept in a month.”
“It’s difficult to sleep when I’ve been up all night attempting to figure out how to make you see that you’re making a colossal mistake.”
Knox waved him off. “You saw the baker’s stuff. Nothing right for the Sugar Maple shoot.”
“No,” Drew said and didn’t even feel guilty about it.
Knox leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Excuse me?”
“This is one of your blind, crazy, impress-a-girl moves that will cost us dearly. Need I remind you about the mechanic?”
“That wasn’t my fault. Who knew the girl was a thief?”
“Thief? She ran a car theft ring out of her garage.”
Knox rolled his eyes. “This is about that chick.”
“Her name is Carissa, and no. This is about numbers. That’s part of my job. And if you want me to be honest, starting your first segment with New York–style fashion is a huge mistake. The idea of coming here in the first place was to show your softer side—a loving, caring side that people could relate to. Preferably about a business that doesn’t car jack grandmas. Do you really think that big city fashion is going to do that?”
The espresso machine squealed, drawing Knox’s gaze. “You think so little of me. We were brothers once.”
Drew flashed back to Knox pulling him out of a burning building. “We are. And like most brothers, we disagree and argue.”
The front door opened, and Mayor Horton stepped inside with a tall man at her side. Based on small-town gossip, he assumed that was Mr. Strickland, her fiancé. He’d make a point to introduce himself later, but for now, he needed to get Knox to see the right path.
Knox twisted his coffee cup around so his left hand could lift it with the handle, and he took a sip and then placed it back down. “I’ve made up my mind. The clothes are vibrant and will show better. The girl at the bakery hasn’t shown me anything that’ll work for a fall shoot.”
“That doesn’t matter. She’s the gift to get you out of the doghouse in the public eye. Think about it. Jacqueline is the wrong choice. The one you keep making. I love you like a brother, but I want to smack you upside the head each time a beautiful woman walks in the door and you lose all sense.”
“I’m not interested in Jackie. I was working the problem. You stated Carissa didn’t want it, and then she did. I wanted a contingency plan, and I have one now. A good one.” Knox chuckled. “You think so little of me, yet you’re doing exactly what you accuse me of: choosing a woman over the project.”
“What? That’s not true.” Drew shifted in his seat and looked for Lori, longing for that coffee.
“Isn’t it? I’ve never seen you so turned around and stressed. Look at you… Your collar isn’t pressed. There’s a wrinkle in it. And look at your sweater. There are little holes in it from a cat. A cat. You’ve never even owned a goldfish. You’ve never wanted the responsibility of having a pet, not to mention the hairy kind. And now you have fur on your clothes.”
He couldn’t help but look, and to his shock, all of it was true. That wasn’t important now, though. “Listen, the bakery segment screams small-town charm. We can even play off of it with original recipes for mini-segments, have her cook in an elders’ home or at a town event. The possibilities are limitless. We can incorporate the small-town feel into everything.”
“We can do a mini-segment showing small-town women shopping in clothes designed by Jackie, set up a small-town fashion show—”
“All great ideas but not relatable enough. Not for what we need at this moment to fix your career. Trust me, this is my job. I know what I’m doing.”
“Perhaps.” He scrubbed his face. “I tell you what. I’ll let Jackie know to be ready and standing by on Friday morning. If Carissa doesn’t show with an appetizing dessert that photographs well and fits the theme of our segment, then she’s out and Jackie is in. Got it?”
Drew knew he’d taken the argument as far as he could, and if he pressed Knox too hard and made him feel like he was being cornered, the man would buck like a wild horse and stomp anything around him. “Agreed.”
“Of course, you need to get to work. Only forty-eight hours until the photo shoot.”
“Not an impossible task at all.” Drew rubbed his forehead. “I’ll have everything ready and the team here on time.”
“If you can’t, then we pull and we postpone until next fall. There’s a better segment in Colorado with a small ski town to do a winter wonderland shoot in.”
Drew’s stomach clenched. “I’ll make this work.” He left the table, grabbed the latte from Lori as they passed each other without a word, and went to Mayor Horton.
“Hello, Mr. Lancaster. How are you today?” She offered her hand.
“Fine.”
Mayor Horton patted the man at her side on the chest. “This is Ray Strickland.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard great things about you.” He shook the man’s hand, knowing he had to get through the pleasantries before launching into work if he didn’t want to come across as rude. “I need some help. I need some supplies for the shoot on Friday. I’ll have Lori message you the list.”
“That isn’t much time. What kind of supplies?”
“Things we’ll need for the shoot. Also, could you provide transport from the Nashville airport for our team that will be arriving Thursday night for the filming?”
“I can probably get the senior bus for that evening.” Mayor Horton scanned his face with an inquisitive lift of her brow. “Is everything else okay?”
“I’m afraid that if Carissa doesn’t come through, then Jackie will be the first segment. If not, Knox will pull the plug and we’ll be heading to Colorado.”
Mayor Horton squeezed Mr. Strickland to her side. “Don’t worry. Carissa will come through.”
“Thanks. Hey, have you seen the town elders? They weren’t having recreation time this morning. To be honest, I’m used to Davey giving me a difficult time each day. I kind of miss it.”
“The recreation building’s construction is complete, so they moved back to the center, and Davey’s at the hospital two towns over. I’ll text you the address,” Mayor Horton said.
“Hospital?” A shot of anxiety heated him to furnace temperature. “Why?”
A woman flew over and snagged Mayor Horton’s arm. “You need to hurry. There’s an emergency at the Red Hat Society Meeting. Glenda Jones refused Marcie Atwell entrance to the meeting.”
“Oh no. Those ladies feuding again?” Mayor Horton snagged Mr. Strickland’s hand and headed for the door. “Please excuse us.”
“Wait, is he okay?” Drew asked, but their attention had moved on to other things.
Drew rushed over to the other table. “Lori, I’m taking the car. Davey’s in the hospital.”
“Who’s Davey?” Knox asked.
Lori shoved from the seat. “I’m coming, too.”
“No, I need your help with something else. Can you attempt to explain to Carissa the bet wasn’t really a thing?”
“Bet? What bet?” Knox shook his head. “I leave you two alone for a short time and all this drama ensues.”
“Seriously? Pot? Kettle?” Lori glanced down at him and then back at Drew. “How did she find out?”
Drew glowered at Knox. “I
assume Jackie told her.”
“Ouch. I’ll try, but if I were her, I wouldn’t accept any explanation.” Lori tapped her coffee lid and gave him a sympathetic look. “A bet to win over a girl isn’t something she’ll get over soon.”
“I know.” Drew sighed. “Just try, please.”
Knox stood and smacked Drew on the back. “And I thought I made dumb mistakes. You blew it, dude. This woman’s got you turned every which way but forward. At least, that’s what Lori said.”
Drew didn’t have the energy to argue, so he ignored Knox and headed for the car. Before he could concentrate on fixing all this mess, he needed to find out if Davey needed anything.
Lori followed him outside. “You do realize this is a first.”
“What’s that?” Drew clicked the remote and the car beeped.
“You’re choosing a person over the job. Drew Lancaster, I think you’re becoming a real human being.”
Drew opened the door. “Don’t tell Knox that. He’ll never let me live it down. Somehow I need to fix all this, and quick. I’ll be back after the hospital so we can get to work. There has to be a way I can make this work for Carissa. She needs this win.”
Lori smiled. “Tall order for one man alone.”
“I’m not alone. I have you, and if the town is still speaking to me after they hear about our bet, which I guarantee they have, we have the mighty power of Sugar Maple behind us. If I was a betting man, though I vow never to place a bet again in my life, I’d put my money on these people. I’d put my money on Sugar Maple.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The oven buzzed. Carissa dragged her aching feet and back to the stove for the twenty-second edition of the perfect, fall Sugar Maple treat. At first whiff, she knew she had something this time.
She placed the carrot cake on the stove to cool. The aroma of the spices and maple were a perfect blend. It didn’t matter, though. It could be the best-tasting dessert ever, and it wouldn’t win. Now was the hard part. The decoration.
No matter how much she stared at the powdered sugar, cream cheese, and spices, nothing came to mind. Perhaps a flower on top or fall-color frosting with gold and burgundy sugar dust.
Ugh, too plain. Too glittery. Too wrong.
Tap. Tap…tap, tap, tap.
Stella’s secret knock offered a temporary respite from her dilemma, so she wiped her hands clean and opened the back door to find Lori standing with a proffered coffee. “How’d you get Stella to talk?”
Lori stepped in without an invitation. “It wasn’t easy. I had to make her an impossible promise to find her a part for a 1957 Chevy she’s been restoring.”
Carissa laughed. “So that’s what our friendship is worth to her.” She raised the cup to Lori. “Thanks for the coffee, but no time to chat. I’m on the verge of a breakthrough, and I need to concentrate.”
Liar.
Carissa didn’t like lying, but she liked talking about Drew even less.
Lori set her purse down on the counter and sniffed the carrot cake. “Wow. If you need a taster, I’m happy to volunteer. That smells divine.”
“Thanks, but the camera can’t capture the taste. Still, I needed to figure out the flavor before I could share it with the world.” Carissa forced herself to look calm, brave, ready.
“You’re going to do great. I can see why Drew has such faith in you.” Lori shoulder bumped her.
“Right, Drew.” Carissa took a large gulp of hot liquid that went down scorching, heating her throat and then her chest and finally her belly. “You won the bet. I went out with him.”
“I didn’t come to find that out. The bet wasn’t a real bet anyway.” Lori shrugged. “It was a silly agreement between friends.”
“Agreement?” Carissa asked. Her muscles tightened at having to relive the humiliation that they’d bet on her to go out with Drew. “That he could get a date with me. If so, he could get a job thanks to your father. Yep, he told me all about it.”
“Right.”
“So if he got the date, you had to get him a better job,” Carissa said.
“Sort of.”
“That’s a bet.” Carissa abandoned the coffee at the spice rack and pulled out a mixing bowl and dumped two cups powdered sugar in it.
Lori cleared her throat and rounded the island to stop a few steps from Carissa. “It’s not like that. You need to understand. Drew isn’t a bad guy. Sure, he’s a little on the cranky side, wants things done a certain way, but he’s more small town at heart than you might think. Drew didn’t grow up in LA or New York. He grew up in a place outside the city, more small town, like here. He was raised on family time, including going to his aunt’s place on the weekends to help make almond butter and some funky German dessert he always talks about.”
Almond? That was it. The missing ingredient. She’d add it to the frosting and a sugar-coated, roasted almond to the top of each slice. And then perhaps, in the center of the cake, she could put an edible maple leaf. That was it… Down-home, simple yet pretty, with its own character.
She yanked open the mixing bowl cabinet and pulled out a new bowl, and then she grabbed a baking sheet from below, almonds from her pantry, and plopped them all down on the counter. “Excuse me. I’ve got work to do.”
Lori stepped aside, allowing Carissa to pass. “He’s a good man. Please give him another chance.”
Carissa forced herself to remain calm, focused, independent. “It doesn’t matter if he’s a good man or not.”
“He didn’t mean anything by the bet.” Lori edged closer into her personal space, popping her concentration bubble.
“This isn’t only about the bet. Drew Lancaster will never remain in Sugar Maple, and this is my home. He will never be committed to this place or to me, so there is no reason to pretend otherwise. We are wrong for each other. And I won’t stoop to Jackie’s methods to flirt my way into my spot in Knox’s internet series.”
“You’re giving up?” Lori asked.
“No. Absolutely not. I plan to fight hard to secure my spot, despite Knox’s desire to work with Jackie. I’ll make this the most amazing, photogenic baked good ever to grace the world. The icing will glisten, and the cake will be fluffy and warm with two layers sandwiching a thick cream cheese filling.”
“My mouth is watering already.” Lori eyed the cake. “Do you want me to try it?”
“No. I want you to see when its ready for its photographic debut.” Carissa eyed the doorway. “Now if you’ll excuse me. I want to work until I get this right. Even if it takes all night.”
Lori backed away but paused at the edge of the island. “You’re wrong. You two are perfect for each other. I hope you see it before you chase him out of town.”
She left with a click of the back door in a wake of unwanted thoughts, wayward feelings, a twinge of pain in her chest, and doubt. A perfect recipe for an unhappily ever after.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Drew raced through the sliding doors to the hospital and collided with the front desk. “I’m looking for Davey.”
Bleach and other caustic chemicals bombarded his senses, and he longed for the aroma of Carissa’s bakery.
The receptionist looked over her glasses. “You’ll have to be more specific than that.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and worked to remember his real name. “You know. He’s old, and tiny, and dances like a mischievous leprechaun.”
“Are you feeling okay, sir?” She reached for the phone. “Perhaps you should have a seat and I can get someone to help you. You just need to calm down.”
“I am calm.” His voice echoed through the busy waiting room. Everyone looked at him. That’s when he realized his hair was disheveled and sweat trickled down from his hairline. Not to mention the rumpled shirt he wore and sweater with the holes in it. “I promise you that I’m normally more put together than this. It’s just that I’m working for this crazy man who loses focus each time a pretty woman walks in the room. I was sent to this small town with a bun
ch of crazy people—at least I thought they were crazy—so that I could turn Knox’s reputation from the most hated internet personality who lost a third of his following due to one of many poor choices.” He paced in front of the reception desk. “Then I met this woman, and a cat, and an old man, and they confused everything I’ve clung to all these years.”
“Sir, I understand. I need you to remain calm.” She lifted the phone to her ear and pressed a button.
He smacked his hands on the desk to get her attention. “You don’t understand. How could you when even I don’t understand? This woman is everything I can’t stand. I’m put together, clean, neat, borderline OCD.”
“Um, sure you are.” She glanced down the length of him.
“Not now, but normally.” He ran his hand through his hair. “She’s disorganized and chaotic and distracting. Smart, independent, strong, and beautiful. You know the type of woman who makes you willing to do anything to get her attention?”
The receptionist placed the phone back on the cradle and smiled at him. “Yes, women can confuse us, but there is always an option. You don’t need to worry. This crisis will pass. We’re here to help you, sir.”
Two men came around the corner and headed for him.
“Wait. I’m not crazy. I’m just looking for Davey.”
“The little man who dances like a leprechaun despite being old, right? These two men know where he is, and they’ll take you to him,” the receptionist said in a soft, soothing tone.
Drew shuffled toward the front door. “I don’t need that kind of help. Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’ll call my assistant and get his full name for you. Then you’ll know I’m not crazy.” He slid his phone out, which bought him a second to think. The men stayed close by, though.
“What are you doing here?” Davey’s voice sounded from his side like a beacon in his darkness.
