Beefcakes

by Katana Collins

  Ash and Jude gave each other an uneasy look, and I felt Liam walk up beside me.

  Jude sighed, crossing to the woman and gently nudging her toward the front door. “Margie, I told you to wait for us before coming in.”

  She opened her mouth to answer, but Jude whispered something, cutting her off and shuffling her out the door. He shrugged, crossing back to us. “Production coordinators, you know? You remember how eager they can be.”

  I folded my arms. “Uh-huh.” Something was off here. “Why is she here? Why are you both here, for that matter?” In a way, Jude and Ash were more like family than my actual family at times, but they were also busy as hell with an intense filming schedule, and I didn’t believe for a second that they flew to the opposite side of the country just to see my little bakery.

  “Did she mention a show?” Liam asked.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Liam, meet Ash and Jude. They worked at Silhouette Studios with me. Ash, Jude, this is my brother, Liam.”

  They all shook hands, and Ash grinned in acknowledgment. “The other Beefcake?”

  Liam nodded. “The underrated one,” he laughed and clapped me on the chest.

  “Well,” Jude said. “We were hoping to have dinner tonight.” He paused and I waited, eyebrow raised. “With both of you.”

  “And why is that?” I loved these guys, I did. But they knew how to schmooze. When they didn’t answer, I said, “I’m not a biscuit, so stop buttering me up. Just tell me why you’re here.”

  Ash sighed, running his hands through his dark, wavy hair. “Fine. Jude and I are producing a new reality show—Bake It or Break It—and we were scheduled to start filming in a week when one of our contestants broke his leg and dropped out. We want you to take his place.”

  I looked at Liam whose eyes were lit up like it was Christmas morning and this news was the brand-new bicycle beneath the tree.

  “You want who to take his place?” I asked.

  “You… and your ex-girlfriend from the meme,” Ash said. He was always the more direct one of the three of us.

  Fuck. That.

  “It’s a reality show where we take several bakeries from around the US and we pair the bakers with their exes and make them compete in various challenges together. Like, The Bachelor meets Cupcake Wars.”

  Liam cleared his throat beside me. “You just want Neil?”

  Ash and Jude exchanged glances briefly before giving Liam an apologetic look. “The network wants the brother who went viral.”

  A flash of disappointment creased Liam’s face, but it vanished quickly. “Yeah, yeah. Of course. Someone’s gotta stay here and keep the bakery running, right?”

  “Well, that’s sort of the good news,” Jude added. “Most of the episodes, we’ll film right here in Maple Grove. We’ll follow each baker around for a few weeks of challenges and the only on-location shoot will be the final competition. Otherwise, it’ll be pretty business as usual for you.”

  “If you win,” Jude added, “You and your ex receive one million dollars to split.”

  Heat rushed my face. One million dollars.

  “Neil,” Liam said quietly beside me.

  He didn’t need to say anything more. I cleared my throat, not ready to say yes just yet, but also pretty sure I couldn’t say no. That kind of money? That could get Mom the best doctors money could buy… literally. It could get us out of debt.

  “Can you give us a moment?” I said, my voice hoarse.

  “Yes,” Jude said, stepping back. “Of course. Let’s have dinner tonight. You pick the place and time and text me. We can go over the show in more detail, so you know what you’re getting into.”

  “And try to get your ex-girlfriend to join us for dinner, too,” Ash added. “Technically, the first episode will be several of your exes, and the audience will vote on which one they want working with you. But… we have a strong feeling she’ll win the popular vote.”

  Jude and Ash backed out our door. “Tonight?”

  I glanced at Liam before nodding. “Tonight.”

  After they left, Liam gave me a long look. “You sure about this?”

  Of course I wasn’t sure. “Do I really have a choice?”

  Liam sighed, then called out for our youngest brother. “Finn!” he shouted. Finny poked his head out from the kitchen where he was boxing and labeling the orders I had baked early this morning. “Yeah, bro?”

  Usually Finn only filled in for us a couple times a week, but lately, he’d been here almost five days a week. As long as he was able to get to his dog walking schedule, he claimed he didn’t mind. “Can you come man the register for a few minutes?”

  He wiped his hands on his apron and popped out from the kitchen to take over the register.

  Some of the women moaned, a collective ‘aw’ as Liam and I exited toward the back room. Finn held up his hands. “Don’t worry ladies, I’ve got you covered!” With that, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head, revealing his own tight abs and muscled arms and pecs.

  There were several cheers and cell phone cameras snapped like the paparazzi.

  I had to just accept this was my life now, right? Maybe Lainey was right… maybe we were nothing more than sex workers.

  “Liam,” I growled a warning as he closed the door to our shared office. “I swear that if I could pass this show over to you, I would.”

  He put both hands up in a steadying motion. Like you do when you’re trying to calm a feral animal. Hell, that’s what I felt like at this point. I’d gone along with Beefcakes at first for Mom’s sake. And because, if I was being honest, I wanted to get a rise out of Lainey. I’d actually grown to really love working here at the bakery, though, despite the silly new dress code. I’d already always loved baking. But baking healthy sweets that taste good and are good for you—helping people like Mom who needed to be careful about what they eat—that was the icing on the cake. If I could just find a way to add some stunt work into the mix, then I would have my dream job. I rolled my arm in a circle, wincing at the dull spike of pain that surged down my tricep, and sighed.

  “It’s okay,” Liam said, smiling. “It’s not your fault that you were the one in the image that went viral.” Truer words had never been spoken. “But… you can’t say no to this.”

  I swallowed against the growing knot in my throat. That’s what I was afraid he’d say.

  “We need that money,” he added.

  I shook my head. “Liam, if some of the people in town are already pissed about the fact that we have all of these bachelorette parties coming in… how do you think they’re going to feel about a television crew? The Bachelor meets fucking Cupcake Wars?”

  Liam threw his hands out to his sides. “Look, you come from this world. And I get it… you’re tired of it. But the town will get over it. In fact, I bet it will help our tourism even more. I was just talking with Layla and she was saying business at the diner was crazy for the last couple weeks ever since we changed our branding. People come to town for Beefcakes and they end up staying and spending money at various businesses.”

  I folded my arms. He was right. A lot of people in town could benefit from this… not just us.

  “As soon as we sell out today, I’ll go find Lainey and ask her. But I can’t force her to do this.”

  “One million dollars, Neil. Not many people can turn down that kind of money.”

  One million dollars could mean that we could potentially hire staff to keep up with business. Lately, we couldn’t keep up. We were drowning in orders. Drowning in almond flour and buttercream. And hell, maybe we could actually take some days off. Literally close the shop for a day or two and have real time off where we didn’t have to be up before dawn or elbows deep, kneading dough.

  Liam and I stepped back out into the bakery where, speak of the devil, Lainey was leaning against the counter, a smirk on her face. Finn stood behind the counter, crossing his arms and smiling back at Elaina.

  “Neil,” Finn said. “You’
ve got a visitor.”

  “Lainey,” I said pointedly. “Can I get you a cupcake? On the house.” Couldn’t hurt to butter her up first… or buttercream her up. I grabbed a chocolate caramel from behind the counter and held it out to her. And judging from the way her tongue swiped across her bottom lip, she wanted to reach out and take it.

  “No, thank you,” she snapped, her smile widening in a way that left uncertainty crawling up my spine.

  I cleared my throat, tucking my hands into my pockets and rocking back on my heels. This was going to be harder than I thought. Not that I thought it was going to be easy. “Lainey, I’m glad you’re here—”

  She didn’t wait for me to finish speaking. Instead, she slapped a pink sheet of paper down onto the counter and slid it over to me.

  “What’s this?” I grabbed it and started reading. “A Stop Work Order from the health department?”

  Her brows lifted, but her brittle smile remained right in place. Like the top of crème brûlée, all I needed to do was tap at it and it would crack. “That’s right. The health department is shutting you down until you comply with code.”

  By this point, Liam was paying attention. “We follow all the codes,” Liam said. “I’ve read the health codes three times to make sure we aren’t breaking any.”

  “Section VI,” she said. “You’re not allowed to be shirtless serving food.”

  I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes at her. What the hell was she up to? “Actually, Section VI says that there needs to be a reasonable amount of sanitary body hair coverage.” I held out my arms for her to inspect. “No body hair here.”

  Liam looked momentarily surprised before he quickly took his place beside me, folding his arms as well. “Besides, the health inspector was already here and gave us an A. He told us specifically that we can serve food shirtless as long as we wear the longer gloves that cover up our forearms and as long as we aren’t baking the food shirtless.”

  Her smirk twitched. “Well… I guess he changed his mind about that. A lot of these codes are at the discretion of the inspector.”

  I felt my lip curl back. “Lainey, you do not want to mess with me.”

  She leaned in, and as she did, a piece of blonde hair slipped from the elastic of her bun and fell onto her glossed lips. “I think I do, Neil. I think I do.”

  Liam leaned into me, whispering. “Section VI states nothing about clothing. It’s why strip clubs can serve food with women half-naked, as long as gloved hands are plating the food, and clothed individuals cook the food, and the kitchen is up to code.”

  Goddamn, I love that brother of mine sometimes.

  She turned to walk away, and just as she reached the door, I called out, “Who do we talk to about an appeal for this?”

  She turned slowly, and the entire bakery of women watched the encounter wide eyed. “Me. So… good luck with that.”

  “Isn’t that the woman from the meme?” one of the customers whispered.

  My grin widened. I didn’t need luck. I had viral social media on my side. I cleared my throat, yanking out a chair and standing on it. “Beefcakes patrons!” My voice boomed with the announcement, even though they were all already listening, and some had their phones out… precisely what I was counting on. “The town is threatening to shut down Beefcakes!” A collective moan echoed through the bakery, and to my left, I heard Lainey’s snort of disdain. “I know.” I placed a hand over my heart, bowing my head dramatically. “The town of Maple Grove apparently doesn’t believe this is a sanitary way of serving your cupcakes. Now… let me ask you something. Is it fair that, just twenty miles west of here, right on the border of Maple Grove, there is a ‘gentleman’s club,’” I specifically used air quotes around the term, “that also serves food. And that food is served to its patrons by women in thongs and bras. Yet, that hasn’t been shut down.” I slowly turned back to Lainey, lifting my brow. “Seems a bit discriminatory to me. Like maybe someone in the Maple Grove municipal offices has it out for Beefcakes. But we can appeal this.” I held the Stop Work Order high in the air. “And if you want to help us appeal it, we need you to call Elaina Dyker at 603-555-1113. Leave her as many messages as you want.”

  I sent her an evil grin as I hopped down off the chair, finishing my Norma Ray speech. When I woke up today, I had no intention of becoming an advocate for nudity—or half-nudity— but here I was. Lainey had no idea who she was up against. I had worked in one of the most cutthroat businesses for a decade. And I was damn good at it. It was one of the reasons I left… I was too good at it. I knew just what to say to get what I wanted. I knew how to charm the judges at my competitions. I knew how to work a room, a crowd—hell, I could work the entire internet if I needed to.

  And right now? I needed to. Our newfound success with Beefcakes was the only thing making it so we could hit the minimum payments this month on our debts. Lainey Dyker needed to be taken down a peg or two from her holier-than-thou pedestal. If she truly had the good of the town in mind, then she would want Beefcakes to keep succeeding.

  She closed the space between us and whispered. “I’m ready this time. No viral video can shame me away.”

  “I’m not trying to shame you. I’m trying to prove the hypocrisy in your reasons for shutting us down. Serving food shirtless is not against the code. And we intend to prove it by showing a precedence here in town.”

  She snorted. “Okay, good luck with that. Since the only other establishment to do something similar is a strip club.”

  “I’m not sure what you have against nudity,” I said, straining to keep my eyes at her face. Because I knew what dipped just below the neckline of that silk button-down shirt she wore. It might have been ten-odd years ago, but her body wasn’t easy to forget. “The Lainey I knew had no problem with embracing her sexuality—”

  “The Lainey you knew is gone. She’s been gone for ten years.”

  A shrill ringtone came from within her purse, and my eyes followed hers as she reached in to grab it, swiping the screen and pressing it to her ear. “Elaina Dyker.” With her purse gaping open, one strap off of her arm, I could see the yogurt tucked inside her purse along with the small packet of roasted almonds.

  I had to stop myself from chuckling as I crossed over to one of our displays and grabbed an almond protein “croissant” (the dough was made with almond flour, and the filling was pureed dates, fresh honey-roasted almonds and a smear of sugar-free chocolate for extra flavor). I wrapped it up as Lainey finished her phone conversation and scribbled a quick note before slipping the bagged croissant and note into her purse.

  She swiped at her arm, as though she were brushing off a fly, and didn’t seem to notice that I’d had my hand in her purse. It was disconcerting as hell that she allowed herself to be so distracted by a phone call that she didn’t notice. I could have been a thief. How often did she do that? What if someone were following her or lurking around her car, ready to attack when she was least paying attention?

  She hung up the call and dropped her phone back into her purse. “I think we’re done here, Neil.”

  “We are far from done, Lainey.”

  Her smile was tight and infuriating. “There is nothing you, your brothers, or your bachelorette minions can say or do to change this. Put on some damn clothes and you can reopen as soon as tomorrow.”

  She spun and exited the bakery, slamming the door behind her.

  She was right. The influx of emails and phone calls wouldn’t likely change her mind. I sure as hell couldn’t change her mind. But I knew who could. I knew Lainey Dyker’s Achilles heel.

  Hitting it wouldn’t be easy… because something told me that she was just as ready for battle as I was.

  “Now what do we do?” Liam asked, each of us watching through the window as Lainey walked to her car and slid inside. “Something tells me the last thing she’s going to want to do is join us for dinner… let alone be on a reality show with you.”

  He was right. We needed to go above Lainey. “I need
numbers that show our recent growth. Particularly, credit card receipts that show how many of these orders are from different cities and states. And send Finn to the Maple Grove Inn, Latte Da, the Nail Salon… any other businesses that might be benefitting from the new batch of tourism… and see if they’ll be willing to give us their numbers for the last three weeks, too.”

  Liam nodded, but gestured to the women standing in the cafe. “And what do we do about this for the rest of the day?”

  I examined the Stop Work Order more closely. It said that we must stop work immediately, and if we didn’t, there would be a $500 fine. “We only have a few more things to sell anyway. Let’s take care of these customers who are here and then close up for the day. If there are leftovers, we can bring them to the other local businesses as a peace offering.”

  Liam smiled. “I like when you put your business hat on. It’s so much better than your grumpy pants.”

  I rolled my eyes but smiled to soften the sarcasm. “Just go.”

  “Don’t forget,” he added. “Dinner tonight with Ash and Jude about the show.”

  Damn, I’d almost forgotten that. My mind wandered to the artists’ residency center and how empty they’d been over there. Summer should be their busiest season, and yet they were renting their nicest cabin to me. I basically had private access to the lake. An idea was hatching… but it wasn’t fully formed yet.

  I got back to my office just as my lunch break was ending, but it was totally worth it to skip an official lunch break to see the look on Neil’s face as I slapped them with that health code violation. I slid into my office chair and opened up my email where there were already dozens of emails appealing the Beefcakes violation. I selected them all without reading and moved them into an archived folder. Legally, I would have to read them. Eventually.

  The phone on my desk rang, and when I looked over, I saw the voicemail was flashing. No doubt it was also his social media minions calling.

  I took a deep breath and lifted the receiver to my ear. “Elaina Dyker, Maple Grove Manage—”