The Cupcake Diaries: Sweet On You (6 page)

Andi smiled, picked up a pen, and wrote:
Will do.
Then she placed the diary back under the counter for Rachel to read later.

She glanced about the room to see if everything was in place for their first day.
Mia had been picked up earlier to play at a friend’s house. Kim was using her artistry
to create flower petals out of a batch of purple and pink frosting. Rachel was on
her laptop at one of the round white tables sending announcements to every social
media site, loop, and group that Creative Cupcakes was now open for business. Or would
be—in about five more minutes. And Jake was assisting his tech friend, Caleb, whom
he’d recruited from a local media crew, to install their new security camera.

After the arrest of Guy’s customer the week before, Andi wasn’t taking any chances
on Mia’s safety. She’d insisted acquisition of a camera become number one on their
to-do list. Caleb stood on a ladder and set the security camera on the plant shelf
in the far corner so it could film the interior of the shop and face the front door.

“Ready for our first customer?” Jake asked, turning the
OPEN
sign around on the front window to face the street.

“Ready!” Andi, Rachel, and Kim answered in unison.

Ten minutes later a short, middle-aged man walked in and bought four of their Key
lime cupcakes frosted with fresh whipped cream and topped with graham cracker crumbs
and lime rind strips.

Rachel gave him a big smile and almost bounced up and down while placing his order
into the pink cardboard cupcake box. Kim handed him extra napkins and a coupon to
come back. Andi took his money and placed it in the cash register, which opened with
a high-pitched
ker-ching
. The sweet sound of success.

Jake drew near as the man went back out the door. “Very good, ladies, but next time
you might not want to hover. I think you made him nervous.”

Rachel went back to her laptop and asked, “Andi, can you come take a look at the new
website before I upload?”

Andi started to make her way over when a sudden rise in voices erupted from outside.

She glanced past their new
OPEN
sign on the window to the crowd of women forming on the sidewalk. One of the women
carried a metal garbage can. Another held the can’s lid and struck it with a long
wooden spoon.

The clamor brought everyone inside the cupcake shop to the front window, including
Guy, who came in from the tattoo parlor.

Rachel frowned. “What’s with all the signs?”

“Protesters,” Kim warned, “and they don’t look friendly.”

“What could they be protesting?” Andi read one of the signs and gasped. “Cupcakes?”

Guy let out a chuckle. “They never protested tattoos or Zeke’s old bar, but cupcakes?
Looks like they’re against devil’s food.”

The protesters consisted of four women, all wearing the same colorful outfits: black
tank tops and teal rip-stop nylon pants, complete with bright red, yellow, and blue
mesh tassels attached to each side and hanging off each back pocket.

“What the heck are the tassels for?” Andi muttered.

Rachel smirked. “To twirl around when they shake their booty.”

The woman with short black hair seemed to be in charge, the other three her groupies.
She wore a short top and low-cut pants, leaving her tight midriff exposed. Andi had
to admit the woman was a poster child for fitness even though her facial lines were
those of a forty-year-old. She blocked the short little man who had been in the cupcake
shop minutes before and pointed to the garbage can.

“Drop the cupcakes and drop the sugar in your diet,” the lead woman commanded, her
raised voice distinct through the large glass window.

“Don’t you want to be healthy?” asked another woman closing in on him.

The man’s forehead creased and his eyes widened. “I paid sixteen dollars for these
cupcakes.”

“You’ll pay with your life if you eat all that sugar,” the black-haired woman assured
him. “Did you know sugar is addicting?”

“No, I didn’t.” The man took a quick glance to the left and then to the right as the
women surrounded him, waving their picket signs.

A brunette wearing a neon green mesh kerchief over the top of her hair pointed again.
“Drop it in the can, buddy. Do the right thing.”

Clearly intimidated, the poor man dropped the box of cupcakes in the can and hurried
away. The women clapped, cheered, and broke into a hip-hop dance across the sidewalk.

Next, the four women prevented a young couple from entering the shop, shoved an orange
slip of paper into their hands, and chanted, “Cupcakes can kill! Cupcakes can kill!”

“They’re terrorizing, blocking, and forcing flyers into our customer’s hands,” Kim
whispered, her expression turning fierce. “All of which is illegal.”

“That’s it,” Andi growled under her breath as she flung open the door and went with
Rachel and Kim on her heels.

Rachel gasped. “Who
are
these people?”

“Zumba dancers,” Kim said, pointing to another sign. “They’re from the studio around
the block. ‘Lose the fat, dance with Pat.’”

Andi took a deep breath. She had been thinking of signing up for that Zumba dance
class, but no way would she take it now. She scanned each of their colorful outfits.
“Which one of you is Pat?”

The lead woman with short black hair and exposed midriff waved. “I’m Pat Silverthorn,”
she said, fingering a silver whistle that dangled from a cord around her neck.

Andi nodded to her. “You need to stop this nonsense right now.”

Pat gave her a sly grin and shouted, “Give up the sugar!” and blew the whistle twice.
The dancers circled with their signs, and at the signal, they changed their rhythm
to a salsa.

“Maybe we should have opened a health food store,” Kim said and shied away when one
of the women drew near.

Andi shook her head. “This is ridiculous.”

“Oh, no,” Jake said, his grim tone full of foreboding as he came through the door
to stand behind them. “That’s my sister.”

“Pat?”

“No, the one with the brown hair and green head scarf.”

The woman he indicated dropped her sign. “Jake, what are you doing here?”

“I financed this shop, and you and your entourage are scaring away business.”

“I had no idea you were part of this. Couldn’t you have picked a shop with real food
to invest in?”

Jake motioned Andi over and said, “Andi, this is my sister, Trish.”

The woman’s expression froze. “Oh, I see how it is. You
like
her.”

Jake nodded. “I do. Andi is a very nice person.”

“She’s more than that, isn’t she, Jake? You can’t fool me. I haven’t seen that look
in your eyes since Taylor was born. You’re infatuated with her.”

Infatuated?
Andi spun around so fast her head nearly collided with Jake’s. His jaw twitched,
but she didn’t know him well enough to see if his sister spoke the truth. And instead
of confirming the comment, he chose to ignore it.

“Can you stop picketing and leave our customers alone?” he asked, as his sister’s
Zumba friends surrounded another potential customer.

“Can you stop selling sugar and show our diabetic father some support?”

As Jake continued to argue with his sister, Kim asked, “What do we do now?”

“Call the cops,” Rachel said, taking out her cell phone.

Andi agreed, and minutes later, a patrol car pulled up to the curb, and the same two
police officers who had come to their shop before got out.

Kim smiled. “Look, Rachel, it’s your friend.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Don’t they have any other cops on the force?”

The large, square-jawed cop with the short blond hair introduced himself as Officer
Ian Lockwell, and the two officers began to question Pat, who did not appear pleased.

“I have no problem booking you all,” Officer Lockwell said. “If you want to have your
protest, fine. But, you cannot interfere with foot traffic nor can you interfere with
the operation of this business with your disorderly conduct.”

“Our conduct is
not
disorderly,” Pat argued. “We dance in distinct patterns.”

“You’re blocking the entrance and exit of a store.”

“We’re educating the public.” Pat poked a finger into his large stomach. “Looks like
you could use a little education about good nutrition, too.”

“You poke that finger at me again, and the next time you use it will be to push the
number of your one call for bail.”

“On what charge?” Pat demanded.

Officer Lockwell leaned in. “Battery on a police officer.”

“My mother died with a box of triple chocolate gourmet cupcakes sitting in her lap,”
Pat informed him. “People have a right to know an unhealthy diet can be lethal.”

“Then educate the public someplace else.”

“We will,” Pat said, her face smug. “My Zumba class is leading the opening exercises
at the Relay for Life fundraiser this weekend.”

With a signal from Pat, the Zumba dancers dropped their picket signs and stepped aside
to let Creative Cupcakes customers pass by.

Andi was relieved, but the smiles that she, Rachel, and Kim exchanged with Officer
Lockwell quickly faded. They’d gained a new friend, but they’d also gained a new enemy.

“I’m not going to give up,” Pat hissed over her shoulder as she walked away, “not
until Creative Cupcakes closes for business.”

“I think she means it,” Rachel said, her voice raw.

“Doesn’t she have anything better to do?” Kim complained.

“No, but we do.” Andi picked up an orange half-page flyer one of the women had dropped
on the ground. “The Relay for Life fundraiser for cancer research draws hundreds of
people each year.”

Rachel’s mouth popped open. “The perfect venue for a new cupcake shop to advertise.”

“And help the community at the same time,” Kim added.

“Who says cupcakes can’t be healthy?” Andi asked, handing them the flyer. “We can
bake low-calorie, low-sugar, gluten-free, and even fruit and vegetable cupcakes. We
can promote health awareness. But even more important,” she said, balling her fists,
“we’re going to prove Creative Cupcakes has a place in this town.”

Chapter Seven

• Relay for Life Fundraiser Checklist
  

• 800 mini cupcakes, each color frosting representing a different type of cancer
  
• Plastic stackable trays to transport cupcakes in back of car
  
• Calculator and pouch with small change
  
• Napkins (lots of napkins!)
  

O
N
F
RIDAY NIGHT
Andi, Rachel, and Kim closed Creative Cupcakes at five o’clock and set up their tented
booth at the Relay for Life fundraiser. The event, usually held in June, had been
moved up to mid-March to accommodate needed repairs to both the high school track
and the encircling football field.

“We look like Easter eggs,” Kim complained, tying on her purple apron. “Whose idea
was it to wear purple?”

“Mine,” Rachel informed her. “Purple represents pancreatic cancer. In memory of my
grandmother.”

“The scarves can also help keep us warm,” Andi said, taking the purple scarf Rachel
handed her. “The spring chill will make people walk even faster this evening.”

Andi had no history of cancer in her family and had never fully understood why people
walked to raise money for cancer research. But as she watched a young mother pushing
her daughter around in a wheelchair, a cancer victim no older than Mia, she realized
it was because they could. What an amazing gift it was to have the ability to walk.
To live life. And to help others.

The stories she overheard of hardship and survival made her want to hug her child
more, laugh with Rachel and Kim more, spend more time with Jake . . .

She missed Jake. Despite her reluctance to allow herself to commit to a serious relationship,
she couldn’t stop thinking about him. He worked at the newspaper during the day and
helped out at the cupcake shop every night, but she hadn’t spent time alone with him
since the previous weekend. And five days seemed like an eternity. She kept her eye
on the crowd, hoping to see him.

Instead, Pat, accompanied by twenty other women, all wearing pink tassels for breast
cancer, visited their multicolored cupcake display.

Pat gave a smile too fake to be real. “We just wanted to stop by and wish you luck.”

“Wish us luck?” Rachel grumbled as the Zumba dancers moved on. “What’s with her abrupt
attitude change?”

“She must be up to something,” Kim warned. “I don’t trust her.”

“I don’t either,” Andi admitted, “but what can she possibly do to us here?”

A line of customers formed in front of their booth and Rachel turned toward her with
a frown. “This guy has a coupon for a free cupcake. What do I do?”

Andi looked at the slip of paper Rachel handed her. “The people in charge of the fundraiser
may have issued a few coupons to the public. Go ahead and give him one.”

However, a short time later they were inundated with dozens of these coupons.

“Why wasn’t I told about this?” Andi demanded.

Kim served four more free cupcakes to the kids lined up in front of them. “You made
sure we get to keep the money we spent on supplies, right?”

“That’s what I was told,” Andi assured her.

“We won’t recoup any money for supplies if this keeps up,” Rachel complained. “And
we aren’t raising any money for cancer research.”

“Look there!” Kim pointed. “The Zumba dancers are the ones handing out the coupons
to everyone. They’re trying to sabotage our efforts!”

“Not if I can help it,” Andi said, pulling off her disposable food handler’s gloves.

Marching up to the stadium stands where a jazz band had just performed, she took the
microphone. “I’m sorry to announce that due to a misprint, the Creative Cupcakes coupons
are invalid. The purpose of the fundraiser is to
raise
money. Please stop by and buy a sampling of our many different flavors, only a dollar
each for a mini cupcake.”