The Cupcake Diaries: Sweet On You (2 page)

Andi shook her head. “No. He’s still missing, and the authorities can’t find him.
He hasn’t paid child support in over four months, and the money I’ve spent on lawyers
and PIs trying to track him down has put me in more debt than the divorce. As of today,
I’m a full month behind with my rent.”

Rachel glanced down at the table. “I’m afraid I can’t help. I got fired two weeks
ago.”

Andi gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. Too embarrassed maybe? My boss said I spent too much time talking and
not enough time taking orders.”

“You were the best coffee barista he had,” Andi said, clenching her fists. “How dare
he fire you after all you’ve done for him!”

Rachel lifted her head. “You’re right.”

“You didn’t like working there anyway,” Kim added.

“Right again,” Rachel agreed. “I wish I could run my own business where I could be
my own boss and not have anyone tell me what to do. My ex-boss
lives
to order other people around. All the baristas call him the ‘Bossinator.’ He complained
I was never early enough, never fast enough, never good enough no matter what I did.”

Andi nodded. “He sounds like my father.”

“Worse.” Rachel sighed. “I won’t be moving out of my room over the garage any time
soon. But at least I have my own entrance, and my mom doesn’t care if I can’t pay
the rent on time. I’d invite you to move in with me—except there isn’t space for any
more people now that my grandpa Lewy has come to stay.”

“I know.” Andi thought of her five-year-old daughter, Mia, and wondered how she would
continue to support her on her own.

Then her gaze shifted to the cupcake. Hallelujah for chocolate to lighten the mood
when the weight of the world grew too heavy!

Split three ways, four this time, the cupcake was less fattening. Also, less guilt
afterward. Picking up her share, Andi popped the bite-sized piece into her mouth and
closed her eyes, waiting to be transported to heaven.

What she got was the opposite. Chewing slowly, she glanced about for a glass of water.
Not seeing any, she motioned for the waitress and then brushed the crumbs that had
fallen from her fingers off her shirt.

“Dry,” she said, trying to push the remainder of the wretched icing past her tongue.

“Eck.” Rachel scrunched her face in disgust. “I thought the cupcake was the best thing
we had going tonight, but the chocolate didn’t even taste like chocolate.”

Kim wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Reminds me of cow dung.”

“This cupcake reminds me of men,” Rachel said, lifting her chin. “Sweet, good-looking,
and promising when you first meet. Then dry, messy, and disappointing once you get
into the relationship.”

“They shouldn’t be disappointing,” Kim declared.

Andi laughed. “Are you talking about cupcakes or men?”

“Both.”

Rachel stuck out her tongue. “Andi, you bake better cupcakes than this.”

“I’ve had lots of practice. I used to bake with Mom, and now I make cupcakes with
Mia for birthday parties at school.”

“We should open a cupcake shop!” Rachel’s face lit up and she clapped her hands together.
“You can teach us how to bake, and then we’d never have to eat another disappointing
cupcake again!”

“We’d end up eating them all,” Andi said, imagining her waistline expanding like a
balloon. “And I’m already ten pounds more than my ideal weight.”

“None of us have jobs, we all need money, and we love cupcakes, Kim said, counting
off the facts on her fingers. “Opening a cupcake shop is the perfect solution.”

“It would be fun,” Rachel agreed. “Exciting. And it’s something we could do together.”

Andi rolled her eyes. “I can’t even pay my rent. How could I start up a small business?”

“We could apply for a bank loan,” Kim offered.

“Astoria doesn’t have a good gourmet cupcake shop,” Rachel pointed out, her tone transforming
into a lyrical theatrical performance. “Four months ago on my birthday, we agreed
to take charge and change our lives, but nothing changed. If we open a cupcake shop,
we could change
everything
.”

“Yes, we could change the world with cupcakes.” Andi grinned. “I’ve always dreamed
of opening a bakery. Imagine us, running a cupcake shop.”

“I could decorate the cakes,” Kim added, “make them look like gourmet treats too fancy
to pass up.”

“You could decorate the walls with your paintings, too, like your own art gallery,”
Andi encouraged.

“And we could make different flavors, like black cherry cheesecake, vanilla-hazelnut,
and strawberry lemonade,” Rachel continued, as if talking to herself. “I could be
the spokesperson and go on TV and tell everyone about our famous gourmet cupcakes.
Imagine crowds of people lined up at the door. And I know how to shop.”

“How would that help?” Andi asked.

Rachel’s rosy cheeks glowed through the thick layer of foundation she used to hide
her freckles. “I could spot deals on supplies, color coordinate the interior, and
decorate window displays to draw people through the door.”

“And you could flirt with all the men,” Andi teased.

“Of course!” Rachel laughed. “I would hope there would be some men. Can you imagine
me in a little pink frilly apron, serving cupcakes and hosting parties—lots of parties?”

“Instead of a coffee barista, you could be a cupcake barista,” Andi said, playing
along. “And we could call the shop Captivated by Cupcakes or Cupcake Obsession.”

“Andi’s Private Stash,” Kim supplied. “Or maybe The Cupcake Connoisseur.”

Andi looked back at the cupcake guy, smiled, and said, “Simply Irresistible.”

“How about Cupcake Connection?” Rachel suggested. “A shop that brings people together
over cupcakes. It worked for Andi. Her cupcake man keeps glancing in her direction
every five seconds.”

Andi shot him a second look and gasped, realizing Rachel was right. “Cupcakes R Us.”

“Ooh!” Rachel pounded the table with her fist. “We can be ‘Cupcake Chicks’ or ‘The
Cupcake Crew’ and call the shop Keep ’em Coming Cupcakes.”

“It’s taking the waitress a long time to come back over here,” Andi said with a frown.

Kim snapped her fingers. “How about The Perfect Cupcake?”

“No, not that one,” Andi said, shaking her head. “We aren’t perfect. Better to say
we’re creative rather than perfect. Creative is a better reflection of us and our
product. Creative Cupcakes.”

The waitress arrived, apologized for the delay, and set three water glasses on the
table.

Rachel caught her eye. “What do you think about a trio of women with no business experience
opening a cupcake shop?”

The waitress smiled. “The owner of this place didn’t know anything about business
when he started. He had friends help out and make sure he did everything right. Must
have worked. The Captain’s Port is a success.”

Rachel shrugged. “Well, if he did it, so can we. This can be our new goal until Andi’s
birthday in July. And when we make the shop a success, we’ll buy ourselves a big,
fancy, gold-plated cake cutter.”

“Yeah, a knife as big as a short sword to hang on the wall of the shop for everyone
to see,” Andi joked.

Kim agreed. “We can use it every four months on each of our birthdays to cut the cake.”

“What’s stopping us?” Rachel asked.

Andi laughed so hard tears formed in her eyes. “Maybe a heavy dose of reality?”

“Get ready for this reality,” Rachel warned. “‘Simply Irresistible’ is headed your
way.”

Andi turned her head, and the cupcake guy walked up to their table.

“So, how was it?” he asked.

Andi couldn’t stop looking at him. “Thank you, it was . . . good.”

“Would have been great with milk,” Rachel added.

“I wish I’d had a fork to pick up every last morsel,” Kim said, failing to keep a
straight face.

The cupcake guy laughed, and Andi laughed with him from sheer giddiness due to his
close proximity.

“Meaning,” he said, giving them each a direct look, “you are trying to be polite,
but the cupcake was horribly bland, dry, and crumbly. Hmm. I thought so, too. Thanks,
ladies.”

Andi gushed, “We really did appreciate it, uh—”

“Jake. Jake Hartman.” He took a business card out of his pocket and placed it on the
table. “If you’re ever in dire need of a cupcake again, give me a call.”

Andi wasn’t sure, but she thought his gaze lingered on her a few seconds longer than
on Rachel and Kim. Or maybe it was just her heart beating twice as fast. In the end,
it didn’t matter, because he turned without another word and walked out the door.

“Did you see the way he looked at you?” Rachel crooned.

Andi grunted. “He must think we’re idiots.”

“Jake works for the local paper.” Kim picked up his card. “The
Astoria Sun
. And he left you his phone number.”

“Yeah,” Andi said, her voice catching in her throat, “but he didn’t ask for mine.”

Rachel elbowed her. “He gave you his number; maybe he was waiting for you to give
him yours.”

“Do you think?” Hope sprang from the well where it had been hiding, but Andi stuffed
the emotion back down where it belonged. “Well, then I just blew it.”

“You didn’t want a date anyway,” Kim reminded her.

“Right,” Andi agreed. She looked toward the front door. “All I wanted was the cupcake.”

W
HEN
A
NDI GOT
home at 11:30, her seventeen-year-old babysitter met her at the door.

“I tried,” Heather insisted, “but Mia wouldn’t go to sleep.”

“Mommy!” Mia pushed past Heather and ran outside to hug her legs.

Andi bent to give Mia a hug, then handed Heather a twenty and watched the teenager
slip into the house next door.

The night was dark, and a thick layer of mist had rolled in from the water. A foghorn’s
long, drawn out wail sounded in the distance, warning the boats away from the unseen
shore. Andi was about to make her way safely back into her own house when a man jumped
from the shadows and drew near.

Her first reaction was to wrap her arms protectively around her daughter. The second
was to scream.

The man, who wore a perfect camouflage of matching gray pants and jacket, asked, “Are
you Andrea Leanne Burke?” He held a manila envelope in his hands.

“Yes,” she answered, taking the envelope from him.

Could it be some legal document pertaining to her ex-husband’s financial responsibility?
Had the PI found him? Would she get money from him to pay her rent?

The man in gray disappeared as quickly as he’d come, and she tore open the envelope,
anxious to see what news awaited her. At the top of the paper inside, written in bold
black lettering, was the title
EVICTION NOTICE
.

Andi sucked in her breath and her stomach knotted up tight. If she didn’t bring her
rent current by the end of the month, they’d have to find a new place to live. She’d
suspected this might happen. That’s why she hadn’t invited Kim or Rachel to move in.

Beside her, Mia’s small voice broke into her thoughts. “What’s that, Mommy?”

“Nothing.” She crumbled the paper in her hand, ushered Mia into the house, and glanced
around at all the items she might not be able to keep. “Let’s get your pajamas on
and get ready for bed.”

“I already have my pajamas on.”

Andi focused on her daughter’s attire. Mia was wearing her favorite pink bunny print
pajamas reminding her that the last day of the month was also Easter, a holiday she
usually anticipated with joy.

“Mommy, will we have to move again?”

“Move? I hope not,” Andi said, trying to keep her tone light. “Where did you hear
that?”

“Grandpa.” Mia looked up at her with big blue eyes. “He says you have no money, and
we’ll have to move in with him and have my birthday party there.”

Andi stiffened. How dare her father discuss her financial situation with her child!
He didn’t know anything about her finances. No, her father made his own assumptions,
usually negative, and accepted them as truth.

Worse, most of the time her father was right.

She had always wanted a place with a water view and didn’t want to leave, nor did
she want to move Mia again. Her daughter had dealt with enough change. They both had.
What they needed most was a stable home.

After her divorce settlement, she’d rented this adorable cottage on the hillside for
her and Mia. Andi loved the front porch best because it faced the wide mouth of the
Columbia River. She could see the lights on the big cargo ships as they passed by
at night, traveling west toward the Pacific Ocean. She could draw the calming, seawater
air into her lungs. And she could hear the languid calls of the circling gulls, which
eased her stress after a hard day. No wonder Astoria was the oldest American settlement
west of the Rockies. Who wouldn’t want to live here?

Andi swallowed hard. She had thirty days to pay her rent, or she’d have to take Mia
and move back in with her condescending father, who had always suggested she couldn’t
make it on her own. Not a pleasant thought. Instead she recalled what Rachel and Kim
had said at the Captain’s Port, and her brain began to churn with ideas.

“I’ll get the money,” she vowed. “Because I’m going to open a cupcake shop.” She glanced
down at Mia. “You like cupcakes, right?”

Mia nodded her little blond head.

“That’s why it will be a success.” Andi hugged her daughter close. “Who doesn’t love
cupcakes?”

Chapter Three

Business Plan: Get loan. Apply for permits. Find storefront shop. Buy equipment. Advertise.
Bake. Sell. Pay rent.

T
HE FOLLOWING MORNING
Andi met Rachel and Kim in the bank lobby with a note binder and a plate of chocolate
truffle cupcakes topped with ganache and cocoa powder.

“When did you have time to bake?” Rachel demanded, her eyes wide.

Andi shrugged. “I stayed up all night.”

“That would explain the insane phone call I received from you this morning.”