The Cupcake Diaries: Sweet On You (7 page)

D
ESPITE THE INITIAL
loss, Andi, Rachel, and Kim quickly recouped the money with continuing sales. And
although they made sure to include health-conscious varieties like carrot and gluten-free
espresso, the fastest selling were the chocolate caramel, cream-filled s’mores, and
Easter candy cupcakes topped with jelly beans.

“Andi, look at that woman’s victory sword.” Kim nodded to the celebration for cancer
survivors taking place at the center of the field. “It looks like a shiny gold cake
cutter.”

“I’ll have to ask her where to get one,” Rachel said with a grin, “so we can celebrate
our own victory.”

Andi smiled, but her stomach remained tight. It was a little early to claim any kind
of victory. Two weeks remained in the month, and their profits hadn’t been enough
to even cover expenses. And she still needed to pay her back rent.

“The day we don’t have to work sixteen-hour shifts will be success enough,” Andi said,
her tone weary.

“My only complaint,” Rachel teased, “is that most of the single men at this event
are in high school. Not a great place to pick up a hot date.”

“Sorry, Rach—” Andi looked up, straight into Jake’s eyes, and it was almost as if
he could look right through her and see her exhaustion. The compassion on his face
made her heart flutter.

“Can you take a break to walk around the track with me?” Jake asked.

“Of course she can,” Rachel said, giving her a little push. “We can handle this crowd.
Right, Kim?”

“It seems to be winding down,” Kim agreed. “Everyone’s getting ready to light up the
luminary bags to honor the cancer victims.”

“Thanks, you two,” Andi said and whisked off her apron.

Jake wore jeans and an emerald green sweatshirt over a white T-shirt, and to Andi,
he’d never looked better. The clothes could not hide the fact he had a great athletic
build, with toned muscles in all the right places.

“I knew you must exercise to look so good.” She caught herself and corrected, “I mean—look
so fit.”

Jake’s lips twitched as if he were suppressing a grin. “I don’t walk as much as I’d
like to,” he said and shot her an earnest look of appeal. “Maybe if I had someone
to walk with, I’d find the time. Would you like to walk with me on Sunday?”

She cocked her head to one side. “Are you asking for a date?”

“Since you’re opposed to dates, why don’t we call it ‘spending time with each other
to share our appreciation for similar interests’?”

“I’m interested,” Andi said.

Jake smiled. “So am I.”

Together Andi and Jake joined the hundreds of other people circling the track. Some
belonged to teams who handed off decorated batons to each other. Some danced to the
pumped up rock music. And others were drawn toward the strong, delicious smell of
hot dogs and popcorn, which tested Andi’s willpower on her new diet.

Halfway around the track they met Heather with Mia, both behind a table braiding friendship
bracelets.

“Look, Mom,” Mia said, running up to her with their donation jar. “We sold lots!”

“Great.” Andi swooped down and wrapped Mia in a hug. “But in twenty minutes, I want
you to come back to the cupcake booth. It’s almost time to go home.”

“Heather said people walk all night.”

“They do,” Andi replied, tousling her daughter’s hair. “But not us. We need to go
to bed.”

“Who’s he?” Mia asked, her eyes on Jake.

“This is the man who helped us open the cupcake shop. His name is Jake Hartman.”

Jake knelt down to Mia’s level and offered her a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Mia.
My daughter, Taylor, is in your class at school.”

“Taylor?” Mia sucked in her breath, her blue eyes filling with tears, and turned to
Andi. “She stole the Gummy Bears you gave me and called me stupid.”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it,” Andi said, sneaking a peak at Jake’s shocked expression.

“She did,” Mia shot back, her lower lip quivering. “I hate her.”

“Now, Mia,” Andi warned, her voice firm, “you know we don’t
hate
anybody. Don’t you have anything to say to Jake?”

Mia gave Jake a wary glance.

“Something nice?” Andi prompted.

“You can’t be as bad as she is,” Mia said, shaking his hand. Then she ran back to
the table with Heather.

Jake cleared his throat. “Well, that’s good to know.”

Andi cringed. “I’m sorry. Mia’s tired and shouldn’t be up this late.”

“Don’t worry; you get to meet my daughter next, and you’ve already been warned about
her temperament.”

Jake smiled, but from his expression it was clear he meant to talk to his daughter
about her actions. Andi meant to speak to Mia also and hoped they might find a way
to all be friends.

Three-quarters of the way around the track Jake stopped in front of his sister, Trish,
and introduced her husband, Oliver, and their son, Evan. Then he introduced his own
daughter, Taylor.

Jake’s sister, still wearing her pink ribbons and pink-tasseled Zumba pants, gave
Andi a hard look. “Oh, no.”

Jake squinted at her with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s looking at you the same way I saw you looking at her the other day,” Trish
said, rolling her eyes.

Jake gave a quick half-turn, but Andi hid her face by stepping forward to greet his
daughter. Taylor had Jake’s and his sister’s brown hair, but her eyes were lighter,
filling with tears the same way Mia’s had.

“Did you know my mom?” Taylor asked.

“No, I didn’t,” Andi admitted.

“We made a bag for her,” Taylor explained.

Andi glanced at the white paper bag lantern on the ground by their feet, decorated
with crayon-colored hearts stickers, and illuminated by the tea candle inside. The
name
SUSAN HARTMAN
was written on the front, with a photo of a beautiful woman with dark wavy hair below
it.

Jake had said his wife had passed away two years ago when Taylor was three, but Andi
got the feeling she shouldn’t be here. At this event. With them.

No wonder Jake hadn’t taken her hand as they walked. He was here to honor his deceased
wife. To hold hands with another would be inappropriate. Awkward. Still . . . as they
stood side by side, her hand itched to take his and close the four-inch gap keeping
them apart. And for that, a strong dose of guilt set in, making her even more uncomfortable.

The lights in the stadium went off, leaving them in the dark except for the warm,
golden glow from the vast ring of luminaries around the track. There were hundreds
of them. Each one decorated and lit as a memorial to a loved one who had battled cancer.
Andi caught her breath. The moment was surreal, both beautiful and sad, yet it also
ignited a steadfast hope for the future. A future with a cure. A future spent with
loved ones. Jake’s warm fingers found her hand and gave it a quick squeeze.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he murmured in her ear.

The queasiness in Andi’s stomach subsided, and she relaxed.

“I’m glad, too,” she whispered.

W
HEN
A
NDI CAME
back to the cupcake booth, her heart was as light as a feather. “What a great walk!
I think I’ve lost ten pounds already.”

“Lost your heart,” Kim teased.

“Lost her resolve not to get involved,” Rachel added.

“Lost track of time,” Andi said, glancing at her watch. “I didn’t mean to be gone
so long.”

“We can’t complain,” Rachel told her. “We know you were just trying to make our Creative
Cupcakes’ investor happy.”

Kim gave her a mischievous smile. “Is he happy?”

“Yes,” Andi affirmed, “I believe he is.”

The music coming over the PA system stopped, and a female voice echoed across the
stadium thanking sponsors and various vendors for their support.

“We’d especially like to thank Creative Cupcakes for raising over one thousand dollars
for cancer research.”

The roar of clapping echoed around the stadium and drowned out Andi’s horrified gasp.

Rachel glared at her. “I thought you said we could deduct our expenses from the sales.”

“That’s what the woman on the phone told me,” Andi whispered.

“What woman?” Kim asked. “The announcer woman? Look at her outfit. She’s one of Pat’s
Zumba dancers!”

Andi hesitated. “I can tell her there’s been a mistake.”

“There’s no mistake,” Rachel said, scrunching her face. “Pat’s Zumba tribe planned
this all along, and we just lost several hundred dollars on ingredients.”

Andi ran up into the stadium stands and took the microphone for the second time that
night. “Creative Cupcakes was
thrilled
to be part of this event,” she said, shooting a look at the pink-tasseled announcer.
“And we hope everyone will keep us in mind for future weddings, family reunions, and
school birthday parties.”

Pat walked past Andi and smirked. “Fat chance.”

Chapter Eight

I could give up chocolate, but I’m not a quitter.

—Author unknown

B
Y
W
EDNESDAY
A
NDI
was shocked that after all the cupcakes they gave away over the weekend, the customers
coming into the shop were few. In fact, some people who had placed orders the previous
week for school birthday parties called and canceled. She tapped the calendar hanging
on the wall beside the phone with her pencil. Eleven days remained in the month. Eleven
days . . .

One of Guy’s customers came through the connecting back door and bought one of her
sister’s painted confections.

Kim had discovered how to cover the cupcakes with white fondant, which created a smooth
porcelain-like base. Then using various sized brushes, she painted scenes on the surface
using different colored edible pastes mixed with clear flavored extract. Some of the
paintings were replicas of her own artwork, and some, like the one this man ordered,
she’d copied from one of Guy’s tattoo designs.

He nodded his thanks in appreciation of the hand-painted Harley-Davidson. Then he
lifted the side edge of the white bandage on his upper arm and nodded to Kim. “You
like?”

Andi and Kim, both behind the counter, exchanged a look and laughed. His freshly applied
tattoo was a pink-frosted cupcake.

The front door opened, and Officer Lockwell entered, sat down at the counter, and
ordered their newest flavor—a delicacy of vanilla topped with maple syrup and bacon.
The man with the new tattoo made a quick exit.

“Looks like you scared him away,” Andi said, placing the police officer’s order in
front of him. “The tattoo parlor hasn’t seen as many customers since you started coming
in every day.”

“Is the tattoo artist complaining?” Officer Lockwell asked.

“A little,” Andi admitted.

“Tell him I can’t help it,” Officer Lockwell confided with a grin. “Every night when
I get home my wife and kids ask if I’ve brought them more cupcakes. They love them.”

Rachel came in from the kitchen, gave Officer Lockwell a hesitant wave, then slapped
a bridal magazine on the counter in front of them. “You have to see this. I found
a company that sells long-handled, gold-plated cake knives.”

Andi glanced at their potential “victory” cupcake cutter, but her gaze couldn’t help
straying to the opposite page, which featured an array of dazzling diamond wedding
rings.

No way was she ready to remarry, but the sight of the rings brought warm, fuzzy feelings
to life inside her and made her think of Jake. Her fanciful daydreams carried her
through the day, but they came to an end the moment Mia got off the school bus, her
eyes streaming with tears.

Andi dropped to her knees on the sidewalk outside the cupcake shop and took her daughter
into her arms. “Mia, what happened?”

“They said I can’t bring cupcakes to school for my birthday!”

“Who said?” Andi asked, pulling Mia away to look at her again. “Your teacher?”

Mia nodded, and more tears spilled from her eyes. “Hannah and John had cupcakes, but
the teacher told me I can’t have any cupcakes.”

“That can’t be right. I’m sure there’s a mistake. I’ll call the school and straighten
everything out.”

Andi escorted Mia into the shop and reached for the phone. A minute later she was
on the line with Mia’s teacher, and five minutes after that she was transferred to
the principal, who explained the situation.

“Last night Pat Silverthorn convinced the school board to ban cupcakes from all the
district schools. She presented a long list of facts, backed by clinical studies finding
that sugar is the number one cause of obesity in children. By allowing the children
to bring cupcakes to school on their birthday or any other celebration, we would be
supporting the current obesity epidemic. The school board has decided we can’t be
responsible for putting children’s health at risk.”

“We’re talking about a child’s birthday!” Andi said indignantly. “If you’re going
to start a rule like that, can’t you wait until the beginning of the next school year?
My daughter feels that everyone else has been able to celebrate their birthday in
school except her.”

“A child does not need cupcakes to celebrate a birthday, Ms. Burke.”

“Try explaining that to a five-year-old,” Andi retorted.

After she hung up, she turned to her daughter, who stood staring into the display
case. “Mia, I’m sorry they won’t let you bring cupcakes to school to share with your
class, but we can celebrate your birthday right here in the shop. We can decorate,
and you can invite all your friends.”

“What if they don’t come?”

Andi had once suffered the humiliation of sitting alone in a coffee shop waiting for
a blind date to show, and it hadn’t even been her birthday. She’d always had Rachel
and Kim to celebrate with for as long as she could remember. But Mia had no siblings
and hadn’t yet met many friends.

“They’ll come,” Andi promised her, “because we’ll make your birthday too much fun
to miss. And I know one classmate who will definitely come.”