Authors: Donna Kauffman

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

Sugar Rush (22 page)

BOOK: Sugar Rush

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Lani snickered, and thought they really should have more wine with all future bitch-and-bakes. “Welcome to Bake Club,” she announced as she flung the door open. She knew she was punchy from fatigue and half looped from the wine, but she just didn’t give a damn. “No smelly boys allowed.”

“Oh. Dear.”

Lani had been looking up, half expecting it to be Baxter. Not because he was due to drop by, but because he always seemed to choose the most inopportune times to show up. She dropped her gaze lower, then lower still. “Alva?”

“Why yes, dear. Have I caught you at a bad time? Oh my, something smells heavenly.”

Somehow Lani was backing up and inviting her in before she quite knew what was happening.

“Well, hello again,” Alva said to Charlotte. “I’m sorry, dear, but I’ve forgotten your name.”

“I’m Charlotte. Can I get you a glass of wine?”

Lani made a neck-cutting motion behind Alva’s back, but Charlotte was already turning away to get another piece of stemware from the cupboard.

“What have you made that smells so wonderful?”

“Harvest bread, with savory butter,” offered Charlotte, who’d suddenly become the hostess with the mostest. “We were just about to cut ourselves a slice or two. Would you care for a piece?” She turned away from the cupboard and picked up her own wineglass.

Bobby Flay,
Lani mouthed to Charlotte when she caught her eye, but Charlotte merely waved her glass and smiled. Apparently when Charlotte felt good, everybody was going to feel good.

“Oh, my, well, if it’s no imposition.” Alva’s eyes were on full-Alva-twinkle. “I’d love to give it a try.”

Even sober, Lani had to admit it was hard to resist Alva on full-twinkle. “I’ll get another plate.”

“And a glass, too, dear,” Alva added sweetly. “I’d love a sip of wine. If there’s any left.”

Lani’s eyes narrowed behind Alva’s back, but Charlotte swiftly moved in, slicing the bread and handing the plates to Alva to put around the small dinette table.

When they were all settled, sipping and snacking, Alva said, “This is delicious. Any chance I can beg the recipe? I haven’t baked bread in ages, but this is such a perfect thing for when the weather cools.”

“Which will be soon, I hope,” Lani added, pushing her wineglass away. She’d stick with the solid carbs for a while.

“Well, Miss Lani May, dear, I was out for a drive—bit of insomnia, don’t you know—and saw your lights on. I thought I’d just say thank you for those wonderfully addictive little cakes you made for the tournament last night.”

“You’re very welcome. I assume they went over well?”

“Between the lava flow of chocolate and the fountain of sangria, it was a rather ... lively evening.”

Lani couldn’t help smiling. “So, did Beryl regain her title?”

“Yes, though it didn’t exactly happen as planned. She more or less earned it back by default.”

“Did some of the other players ... overindulge?” Lani asked.

“Yes, but it was the fight that broke out, resulting in the local constabulary being called in, that ended the tournament rather prematurely for a few of the players.”

Lani blamed her inability to contain her snicker on the wine. “Um, did that happen before or after midnight?”

“Oh, that was well after,” Alva said. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Lani hoped Dre had taken the right line on the bet. “I didn’t hear anything about it from my father, but he wouldn’t have been on duty that late and I’ve been in the shop all day, out of touch. I hope it all worked itself out okay.”

Alva’s smile was quite self-satisfied. “Let’s just say that my first column will start off my new career with a bang.”

Charlotte hid her snicker by taking another quick nibble of bread. The whistle on the tea kettle went off just then and she scooted her chair back. “Let me get that. Tea?”

“Oh, I’m fine with my wine, dear,” Alva said.

“I’ll take a cup,” Lani said.

“I went by the shop first,” Alva continued, after Charlotte stepped into the kitchen and made the shrill whistling stop. “I thought perhaps you’d be having another late night bake session.” She sighed somewhat wistfully. “I’ve really enjoyed our little impromptu sessions.”

That earned Lani a quick arched brow from Charlotte as she stepped back in carrying a tray with the teapot, cups, and saucers.

Lani lifted one shoulder in a half shrug as if to say
I didn’t plan it
but Alva went on, saving her from further explanation.

“I hardly recognized the place. Trucks everywhere, people all over.” Alva set her glass down and clasped her hands as she leaned forward a bit in her seat. “Is it as exciting as it looks?”

Charlotte looked pointedly at Lani as she poured the tea, but her tone was sugary sweet. Like corn syrup. “Yes, Lan, tell us how exciting it is.”

“It’s a bit overwhelming to me right now,” Lani told her. “A lot to learn. It was mostly a day of logistics, getting everything set up so the shoot goes as smoothly as possible.”

“The shoot,” Alva echoed. “Sounds so glamorous. You must be excited about being on camera. Just imagine, your shop will be famous! All that, and you get to cook with Chef Hot C—er, Chef Dunne.” Her smile went twinkly again. “We’re having dinner, you know. A late dinner.”

“Yes, I heard,” Lani said. “Thursday.”

“We changed it to Friday, something about the shooting schedule changing.”

Lani hoped that meant production would wrap up at a decent hour that day. She’d already been warned to expect some very long days, ten to twelve hours being more the norm than the exception. She couldn’t really complain—though she likely would at least whine a little to Charlotte—as the compensation package they’d offered in trade for essentially shutting her shop down for several weeks, was pretty ... well, sweet.

In fact, she’d had to look at that page of the contract twice to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. She didn’t know how much money they thought she’d normally have netted over that period of time, but their offer had been more than a little generous. Add in the commercial exposure of having her little shop on television and whatever new revenue that would send in her direction, there was no way the ordeal could be considered as anything but a big check in the win column.

That was if she didn’t count the chunk of her heart Baxter would be carting off with him.

“Have you decided on a dinner menu?” Lani asked Alva, hoping to advance the conversation past the show talk.

Before Alva could respond, however, the doorbell chimed. Again. Lani glanced at the clock. It was after eleven.

Alva clasped her hands together. “Gee, I wonder who that might be?” It was clear who she was hoping it would be.

“I can get it,” Charlotte offered, but Lani was already on her feet.

“That’s okay. Alva, why don’t you tell Charlotte your dinner menu for Baxter. She’s a pretty good regular chef, too. I’m sure she’d love to give you some guidance.”

Charlotte shot her a leveling look, but Lani merely smiled. Her smile faded as she turned toward the door leading out of the kitchen. She really wasn’t ready for more Baxter, even with the addition of the guest panel currently parked in her kitchen. “Hello?” she said, leaving the door shut. It was, after all, late at night. Though the door wasn’t locked, she wanted him to at least acknowledge the hour.

“Chef? It’s Dre.”

“Dre?” Lani repeated, then tugged open the door to find her young employee standing on her cottage porch. Apron in hand. Concerned, she said, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, yes, Chef. Fine. I’m sorry to be coming so late, but I went by the shop first and it was locked up tight and dark.”

“Well, it is a little on the late side.”

“I know, but it said recipe testing on the show schedule and Bernard had said how the first few days they’d almost be there around the clock, so I figured that’s where I was supposed to go.”

“Go for what?”

Dre’s expression shifted, and she look worried. “For recipe testing. When I faxed my class schedule to you, you said to show up whenever possible. I got done with my lab about an hour ago. I knew it was late, but from the schedule, I figured testing would be going on till the wee hours, so I thought I’d come help out. When the shop was closed down, I thought I’d at least swing by here. I—I wasn’t sure where else to go. There are cars here and the lights are on so ... I thought maybe I misunderstood and we are testing stuff here.”

Charlotte’s rental and Alva’s car, along with her own, were parked in the drive in front of the house. With the house ablaze with light, Lani supposed it did look like something was going on. “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about, but since you’re here, why don’t you come on in?”

A burst of chatter came from the kitchen just then, and an embarrassed Dre shifted her weight, but didn’t step inside. “No, that’s okay. I shouldn’t have stopped by so late. Sorry I interrupted, I must have read the chart wrong.”

Lani frowned. “What chart?”

Dre frowned right back at her. “Bernard sent out charts detailing the production schedule for the rest of the week. I assumed you gave him my e-mail, but—Listen, no problem. I have an early class tomorrow anyway. I can be back over the bridge by seven tomorrow night. I’ll—I’ll see you then.”

She backed up a step, but Lani said, “Wait. When did you get this chart?”

“About four this afternoon. Don’t—didn’t you get one?”

Lani supposed she should have been embarrassed, looking like an idiot in front of her only employee, but the annoyance she was feeling at that moment outweighed everything else. “Obviously there was a glitch somewhere, but no, I didn’t. You don’t happen to have a copy, do you?”

“No, it’s on my computer. Wait—my mail comes through on my phone. I can probably access it from there and forward it to you.”

“That would be great. Come on in. Charlotte and Alva are in the kitchen. We’re sampling harvest bread.”

“It smells amazing.”

Lani smiled. “Tastes even better.”

Dre hedged for another second, then went ahead and stepped inside. “Thanks.”

“Absolutely. The more the merrier.”

“I really am sorry for barging in, Chef.”

“It’s after eleven and you’re not on the clock. You can call me Lani.”

Dre looked at her. “That’s probably not going to happen.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the chef, Chef.” As if that explained it. With Dre, it probably did.

Lani shook her head and smiled. “Suit yourself.”

They stepped into the kitchen to find Charlotte and Alva behind the counter, mixers whirring and things being measured.

“I leave for five minutes—”

Charlotte lifted an unapologetic shoulder. She was getting very good at that, Lani noted.

Alva twinkled. “She’s showing me how to make individual serving cheesecakes in a muffin pan, like little cheesecake cupcakes! If they come out right, it’ll be just the thing for my dessert menu Friday. We can top some with blueberries, some with raspberries, and some with strawberries. Isn’t that just delightful ?”

“Delightful,” Lani echoed.

Alva looked past Lani. “Well hello, Dre dear. Care to give us a hand? We need someone to crush the graham crackers, then cut the butter into them and I’m afraid my wrists aren’t what they used to be.”

Dre shook out her apron and had it tied on in a flash. “Excellent.”

“Small crumb.” Alva handed Dre the package of graham crackers and a pastry blender. “Well, my word. What—or who—is that?” She was staring at Dre’s apron.

“Captain Jack Sparrow,” Dre said, as if unable to comprehend that anyone wouldn’t recognize the image. When Alva merely kept staring, she added, “Johnny Depp?”

Alva finally tore her gaze away and went back to blending. “I like pirates.” It was all she said, but there was an added gleam to the twinkle.

“Me, too.” Dre took the butter from Charlotte. “Okay if I use the table, Chef?”

“Sure.” Charlotte and Lani answered at the same time.

Dre smiled her dry half smile, said, “Thanks,” and got down to business.

“Something happened to my life when I wasn’t looking,” Lani said to Charlotte.

“Yes. You got one,” she said, not looking up from the handwritten recipe she was staring at.

“You’re one to talk,” Lani muttered, but went to the refrigerator and got out the cream cheese. If she couldn’t shame them, she might as well join them.

When she looked up again, Charlotte caught her eye and sent a nod Dre’s way with a lift of an eyebrow.

“She said tonight was recipe test. According to Bernard’s chart.”

“What chart?”

“Exactly,” Lani said.

BOOK: Sugar Rush

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