Valhalla Cupcakes (2 page)

“What?” Audrey asked, staring hard at Maria.

Why wasn’t she calling for help already? The man turned around and nodded to one of his cronies, and the second meanest looking one plucked Maria’s phone out of her hand.

“We’re not looking to hurt anybody,” he said. “There’s no need for anyone else to be a part of this.”

“Are you robbing me?” Audrey asked. “We’re not even open yet. This is a pre-opening, all the cupcakes are free today. You can take all of them if you want.”

Could this be happening? Why would anyone rob a cupcake shop? She was more confused than scared, but fear was revving its engine and getting ready to come out.

The biggest one shook his head, looking sorely disappointed. “We don’t rob people, missy. We collect debts. We came to get what you owe us.”

She grabbed onto the glass case to keep from falling to the floor, and the man slid a chair over to her.

“By all means, have a seat.”

The other two snickered, and one of them actually cracked his knuckles, and she started getting mad. Who were these meatheads to barge into her shop and threaten her? She got her money fair and square from a reputable bank, her mother, and an inheritance from her Uncle Charlie— oh God, her uncle. She slumped into the rudely offered chair and put her face in her hands.

“This is about Charlie, isn’t it?” she asked through her fingers. She should have known the twenty thousand he left her was too good to be true.

“Bingo,” biggest said, crouching down in front of her and leering. He had a thick scar under his left eye, making it droopy and extra menacing looking.

“He was my uncle,” she groaned, burning with rage.

How could he have left her money that didn’t even belong to him? She felt a tear drop onto her hands, which were folded in her lap to keep the thugs from seeing them shake. She hadn’t even cried at finding out he’d passed, not knowing him well enough to work up much sadness. By the time they found out about it, it was too late to go to his funeral, if he’d even had one. Her mother had bought a bouquet of flowers in his honor, then angrily stomped them all into the ground, cursing him for forgetting about them even in death. A hapless gambler his whole life, always missing birthdays and holidays no matter how many plane tickets her mother sent him, his final legacy to her had seemed to make up for it all. But now these men here thought she owed them that money.

“Good old Charlie was up to his eyes in it to us, before he went and shuffled off the mortal coil.”

“But what does that have to do with me,” she asked, playing dumb.

“Well, your uncle left it all to you, didn’t he? We only want back what’s ours.”

 She prayed someone would come in for free samples to scare them off, slumping further at the fact that the place had been a ghost town all day. If she couldn’t even give away free cupcakes, how could she make back all the money she now supposedly owed?

“I thought you couldn’t collect a debt after someone died,” she tried.

They laughed, seeming to think that was hilarious, and while they were diverted, Maria edged closer to the door. One of the thugs noticed, abruptly stopped laughing, and shoved her roughly behind the counter.

“I’ll take a chocolate marzipan cake, or whatever you said,” he told her, his face devoid of any emotion. “Give me a couple banana ones for my girlfriend, too.”

As Maria fearfully boxed up the cakes, Audrey suddenly realized this was actually happening. She had real life loan sharks in her bakery, her house, for God’s sake. They literally knew where she lived.

“I don’t have the money anymore,” she admitted.

“You managed to spend a hundred grand in less than six months?”

She waved her hand at their surroundings. “It’s all invested in the business—” she stopped, all the spit in her mouth going dry. “Wait, did you say a hundred grand? Oh, hell, no. Uncle Charlie only left me twenty. I’ll show you the papers.” She leaned over, breathing rapidly, convinced she might be having a heart attack.

“That’s too bad for you, honey, because he owed us a hundred, plus interest, which is building up quick. And you’re his last known relative. Unless, you know somebody else who might pay us off quicker?”

She shook her head, thinking of her mother who so proudly invested her entire life savings. There was no way she’d let these men anywhere near her. “It’s just me.”

“Just you, then.”

“But I told you, it’s all invested in the bakery. We open tomorrow. Look, taste a cupcake. I’m really good, I swear. I’ve won baking awards all over the state. If you just give me some time, I can pay you back.” She stopped babbling and held her breath as the leader looked disdainfully at the pretty display.

“She’s not lying, boss,” the one who’d grabbed Maria said around a mouthful. “This chocolate one is freaking delicious.”

“Chocolate gives me gas, let me try the other one,” he said, finally sidling over and holding out his hand. Maria numbly handed him a tiny, beautifully frosted banana mini cake and he shoved it into his mouth, barely taking a moment to savor it before he swallowed it in two gulps. “Not bad,” he said. “Did you put real strawberries in there?”

“Yes, loads of real strawberries. Everything I make is chock full of great ingredients,” Audrey hurried to tell him when Maria remained silent.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so spendy with our money,” he said, reaching over for another cake.

“I suppose I could cut some corners here and there,” she said, hoping this meant he was going to give her some time. “But, really, not the ingredients. Then they’d be no different from a grocery store cupcake, and there’d be no reason to pay so much for them.” She pointed to her artistic wood burned price sign. “Look how expensive they’re going to be. I swear if you give me some time, I can pay you back.”

“Look, kid, you seem like a sweet girl, and you can cook, that’s for sure. I can see you’re a victim in this.”

“I am, I totally am. I don’t know what Charlie did with the other eighty thousand, but of course if I came by the twenty in an improper manner, I want to pay it back.”

They laughed again, cupcake crumbs flying out of their mouths. “Oh, honey, you have to pay back the whole hundred, don’t get me wrong. I feel sorry for you, so I’m gonna give you a month to come up with it all. How’s about you pay the first installment of twenty a week from today. You have to understand though, I have a boss who gets down on me when I’m too nice, and it’s already taken us this long to find you.” He winked his droopy, scarred eye and chucked her under the chin. “I’ll probably come around to check in on you now and then, so don’t get any cute ideas about packing up and leaving.”

She shook her head, stunned into silence at last. Where would she go? Certainly not her mother’s, not wanting to risk bringing them down on her, and except for this place, she had nothing. Her whole life was wrapped up in this dream, which now seemed tainted and closer to a nightmare. There was to be no more arguing or pleading or reasoning, it seemed, as they took their bakery boxes and left.

“Good luck with the opening,” the only one who’d remained quiet the entire time said on his way out the door. His flat well wish sounded more threatening than the promise to return to check on her, and she shivered as she met his empty eyes.

The bell tinkled merrily as he slammed it behind him, everything about their departure suggesting they didn’t care either way how her opening went. Maria dropped to the ground and Audrey rushed around to check on her, seeing the one thug had left her phone on the counter. She clenched her fists and restrained herself from crying, as Maria was already bawling enough for both of them.

“Should we call the police?” she sobbed. “I thought they were going to break our kneecaps.”

“I know. Me too,” Audrey said. “They’ll probably end up breaking mine, because I have no idea how I’m going to come up with a hundred thousand dollars in a month. That’s a hell of a lot of cupcakes.”

“We definitely have to call the police.” She leaned against the wall and wiped her brow, pale and shaken.

“I don’t know, Maria. My uncle was a shady character himself, what if it opens a bigger can of worms? He obviously squandered all that money before he died, and who knows how he got it in the first place. I never should have used it. I should have—” she stopped. There was nothing she could have done that wouldn’t have brought this situation about. It was all firmly her uncle’s fault, and blaming herself didn’t help anything. “Let’s not panic yet,” she said, even though she was very much panicking already on the inside. She wanted to stay outwardly calm for Maria, afraid she’d lose her. “You can’t leave me because of this, okay? I’m sure you’re perfectly safe.”

“I won’t,” she sniffled, blowing her nose in one of their expensive pink logo napkins.

That would definitely be a cost she could cut. As soon as they ran out, it would be plain, stiff, brown paper napkins all the way. She looked up, wondering if she should turn some of the lights off and put some candles on the tables instead. She could sell her car, maybe get six grand for it if she was lucky, and all her other earthly belongings would get her … still miles short of the mark.

The tears were getting harder to hold back and she told Maria to take the rest of the day off. The mobsters had cleaned them out of most of their samples on top of scaring the bejesus out of them. There was no reason to keep the place open. All she wanted to do was drag herself upstairs and collapse into bed until it was time to make the cupcakes for the next day.

“I’ll see you in the morning, right?” she asked, hugging Maria before she let her go.

“I’ll be here,” she promised, wrinkling her nose. “Though I don’t know how we can call it morning. Four o’clock is still night to me.”

“You wanted to live the glamorous life of a baker,” Audrey said.

As soon as Maria was gone, she sat in the middle of the floor and tried to get her thoughts straight, finally crawling over to the painting and wrestling it around to face her, not wanting to be alone after such an ordeal. She’d never been threatened in her life before, and it still hadn’t fully hit her how much trouble she was in. Even though he was just a painting, she could use a friendly face. She stuck her tongue out at his extremely unfriendly sneer when she got the painting turned around.

“Any ideas?” she asked, thinking even though he still looked as irate as ever, there was a softness in those blue eyes, as if she was getting to know him and understand him better.

She wondered ruefully if those thugs had scared her into actually losing her mind, speaking to the picture and waiting patiently for answers as she was. She patted the portrait and forced herself to go clean up the morning mess in the kitchen, have it sparkling and ready for when they made the dozens of cupcakes for the next day. After that, she made several batches of frosting to keep herself from thinking too much. The only thing she knew for certain was she had to keep going. Shriveling up in despair wasn’t going to make her any money.

When she finished, she saw she had three missed calls from Maria and her stomach turned over. She covered the last bowl of frosting and placed it carefully in the fridge before resolutely calling her back. Instead of a hello, she was greeted with a torrent of wails and apologies, and her heart sank.

“I’m so sorry, Audrey, but my husband doesn’t want me going back there. He’s afraid for me and the kids. I told him you don’t have anyone else, but he’s so worried, he got me scared again, too. What if those psychos find out where my kids go to school?”

Audrey managed to calmly tell her she understood, and she did understand. If she had children, she’d probably be on the first plane to Canada, no matter what she’d been warned about staying put.

“It’s fine,” she said for the tenth time, trying to believe it herself. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you updated, and when this blows over, you’ll come back.”

“Of course I will,” Maria said, finally hanging up.

Audrey lay down on the cool tile of the kitchen and let the tears roll down her cheeks. She was finished. She couldn’t make all the cupcakes herself, run the register, make coffee, keep everything clean, do the books, and arrange advertising all on her own. It had already seemed daunting with a helper. Now it seemed impossible. But if she didn’t open as planned, she had no recourse to pay back Uncle Charlie’s dirty loan, let alone her bank loan and her mother’s generosity. She was going to be bankrupt and kneecapless at twenty-six.

The cold floor seeped through her clothes and she cried harder at finding herself lying on the floor in the nice skirt and blouse she’d put on to greet all the people who never showed up that day. She pulled off her darling pink logo apron, another thing that she’d loved but now seemed like an unnecessary frivolity, and threw it onto the counter. Stomping into the dining area, she saw all the furniture and decorations she’d so lovingly chosen as if everything had a price tag on it.

“Come on, you,” she said to the painting. “Let’s get you hung up. At least you didn’t cost me anything.”

The frame alone weighed as much as she did, and she finally gave up, letting the huge canvas crash flat to the floor. She leaned over it, out of breath, her hands resting on his powerfully muscled thighs.

“Sorry,” she said, feeling stupid for being embarrassed, and even more so for apologizing.