When Only Cupcakes Will Do (15 page)

‘I don't!'

‘Methinks our friend doth protest too much!' declared Steph, and Hollie joined her in a bout of restorative giggles.

‘Listen to your Auntie Steph,' urged Hollie between guffaws. ‘Launch your lasso and rein in your Italian stallion!'

As she said goodbye to Hollie and Steph to make her journey back to Richmond, Lucie's mind was firmly fixed on Ed. The image of his injured hand floated across her thoughts. She wondered if his accident had perhaps been the result of a confrontation, a fight, a feud. Had he published a review of a fellow chef's restaurant in Sicily and been attacked? Weren't Italians known for their fiery tempers? Within the hour she had blown the whole scenario up into a full-scale Mafia thriller with a budget-busting roster of fast cars and a cast of gun-toting gangsters.

Hollie was right – Ed Cartolli oozed testosterone. But if she were honest with herself, she had always known that. It was just that she'd felt invisible whenever she was in the kitchen with him, surrounded by a chattering melee of female admirers eager to be paired with him, not only over the preparation of a bowl of crème pâtissière but later, when the students congregated at the local bistro to mull over the recipes they had learned that day.

And anyway, shouldn't her thoughts be lingering on Alex and his victory of being made a partner at a prestigious City law firm before the age of thirty? A man whom she had loved so much she had wanted to propose they spend the rest of their lives together only a couple of months earlier? Should she ring to congratulate him?

Chapter Sixteen

‘How were Hollie and Steph?' asked Jess as she lugged baskets toppling over with sprinkles, edible glitter and bags filled with ready-made icing into the ice-cream van. She set the heavy load down on the counter in the back and, as she descended from the passenger seat to collect the trays of cupcakes for their next party, couldn't resist pressing the silver button. The familiar, tinny symphony of ‘Greensleeves' rippled through the air.

Lucie smiled at her sister. While she had loved her life training as a chef in Paris, a city she had grown to adore as she explored the cobbled streets and indulged in the ubiquitous crêpes, she also loved the suburb of London where they had grown up. The house in which her mother had chosen to raise her daughters after her divorce nestled in a pretty garden surrounded by undulating privet hedges and presided over by pink blossoming cherry trees. But what Lucie liked most about Richmond was the community, and the fact that many of the local activities revolved around the river, which was where they were headed that afternoon.

And she felt surprisingly content running the Travelling Cupcake Company with Jess's support. That didn't mean she wasn't missing her old life in the hustle and bustle of central London – she was; but there was something to be said for being your own boss, for moulding a business in the way you wanted and either reaping the benefits or ruing the results. However, she knew she couldn't continue to take advantage of her sister's hospitality indefinitely and that she would have to make some decisions about her future accommodation arrangements soon.

But that could wait. Today was Richmond's May Day celebrations and she and Jess had been booked to offer their cupcakes to the hungry residents and day trippers at a pitch next to the river alongside stalls of local produce from cheese-making to home-brewed elderberry wine, canvasses and framed prints from local artists and photographers, as well as the pies and home-made jams and chutneys from the WI.

The banks of the river were dressed up in their finery. Polka-dot bunting and streamers floated on the breeze and the tinkle of music wafted from an amplifier plugged into a generator outside one of the pubs. With swirls of anxiety tickling at her abdomen, Lucie parked the ice-cream van in the designated spot. This was to be the Travelling Cupcake Company's first foray into direct contact with passing trade and she was unsure what to expect. It was a totally different scenario to running children's birthday parties from the security of a village hall or someone's sunny conservatory. She tested the six buttercream dispensers one last time and they were ready to sell some cupcakes.

With help from Lewis and Jack, they had spent the previous day baking and had added a huge carrot cake and a triple-layered chocolate cake to the menu. Lucie had also discussed with Jess the possibility of experimenting with cupcake recipes that used beetroot – to produce a sort of red-velvet version – and sweet potato as well as the usual carrot-infused cupcakes. There were also china milk jugs and tea cups displaying a selection of spring flower-themed cake pops and the boys had spent hours the previous day gluing mini triangles of paper bunting onto ribbons, which they had strung between two bamboo skewers, and making colourful flags, which they'd stuck into florists' foam covered with tin foil.

The May Day celebrations were a huge success. Children, especially, enjoyed the novelty of selecting their preferred flavour of cupcake, then adding their favourite buttercream swirl and finally crowning their masterpiece with sprinkles, edible glitter, nuts or rice paper printed with butterflies and ladybirds. Whenever someone told them they were celebrating their birthday or an anniversary they would press the silver button and the most recognisable English folk tune of them all jingled across the riverbank adding a certain authenticity to the typical village fayre that wouldn't have looked out of place in a
Midsomer Murders
episode. Lucie only hoped there wouldn't be a death – especially not by poisoning. What would Ed Cartolli make of that!

‘Hey, Lucie! The van's looking great. I love the signage you've added, and the polka-dot bunting really adds to the vintage look,' called Matt who had been helping out on the home-made wine and beer stall on behalf of the local Women's Institute. ‘I wish I'd taken a photo of her when she arrived on the garage forecourt on the back of a trailer. You've taken upcycling to a whole new level. I'll take four of your toffee and pecan cupcakes, please. No, they're not all for me.'

Matt threw a look over his shoulder to where a gang of his rugby-club friends were taste-testing an array of the home-brewed beverages, some of them in a more advanced stage of appreciation than others. ‘I think we need some sweet treats to soak up all the alcohol. Who would have thought the WI could rustle up such a selection of lethal potions!'

‘Here, take these too.' Lucie handed Matt a carton of mini carrot cakes with cream cheese topping sprinkled with orange-flavoured popping candy. ‘Just a small token of my appreciation for finding my quirky wheels. We love her, don't we, boys? Let me know what you think of the cakes.'

‘Thanks, Lucie. Hey, why don't you join us when you've finished tidying up here? We're adjourning to the Fox and Hounds for a few drinks.'

‘Love to,' she smiled, her eyes resting on one of Matt's friends lounging in a white picnic chair, his chiselled good looks spoiled only by the broken-nosed evidence of his love for his favourite pastime.

‘Great. See you there.'

As she finished cleaning the van, a fleeting image of Ed disappearing out of the door of the Fox and Hounds two weeks earlier muscled its way uninvited into her brain. She looked up, tossing the curls from her eyes with the back of her hand and thought her eyes were playing tricks on her.

Ed?

She had seen Rosa, Paolo and Gabriella earlier, sauntering round the various stalls and giggling at the troop of Morris dancers, but Ed had not been with them – she'd checked. She shook her head and finished her task, finally slinging her rubber gloves into the bucket and heaving a sigh of relief. She called to Jess – who was engrossed in conversation with Matt as Lewis and Jack helped collect the discarded plastic cups for the WI beer stall – that she would drive the van back and see her at home later.

‘Okay, Lucie,' Jess called over her shoulder.

As she slid behind the wheel she glanced down to the river making its serene journey to the sea. This time there could be no doubt. It was definitely Ed emerging from the weather-blistered door of the rowing club, looking like he'd just stepped from a film shoot on the Italian Riviera. Her heart bounced like a penny down a well and back again as she watched him straighten the navy-blue jumper he'd slung over his shoulders and check his watch.

‘Lucie! Hey, great to see you again. I've just got here, I'm afraid. Gabriella has berated me for my tardiness as I have apparently missed all the good raffle prizes and it looks like I've also missed the opportunity to sample one of your cupcakes again.' He smiled up at Lucie through the driver's window, his dark eyes dancing with pleasure.

‘Hello, Ed. Good to see you too.'

‘Erm, look. Lucie. I'm sorry for leaving you so abruptly that night in the pub. I'm down at Rosa and Paolo's for the long weekend. Perhaps I can make it up to you by inviting you to join me on an excursion tomorrow?'

‘Oh, no, there's no need. I mean…'

What was she saying? Was she about to turn down the opportunity of spending the day with Ed? ‘What I meant to say was, you don't have to apologise for anything, but what sort of excursion did you have in mind?'

‘It's a surprise. I intend to introduce you to something a little outside your comfort zone. No more playing it safe, Miss Bradshaw. Tidiness and order has its place in the kitchen, I agree with you there, but in life it's essential to take a few risks to remind yourself you're still alive. Exhilaration is an underexploited emotion. When was the last time you really let your hair fly in the air and had some fun that wasn't the culinary kind! Wear sensible clothes and I'll pick you up at eight a.m., unless you'd like to drive us there in the van? I like what you've done with it, by the way. I love the signage and the vintage décor. Perhaps you can give me the grand tour one day? It's an inspired idea to replace the ice cream with buttercream in the dispensers.'

‘I'd be delighted to show you round, but it won't take long!' she laughed, waving to him as she pulled out of the parking spot, her heart drumming out a symphony of anxiety and anticipation in equal measure, along with something else she was reluctant to put a name to.

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

Chapter Seventeen

Spending the whole day with Ed was a completely different proposition to a drink at the local pub and she found herself panicking. She had no idea what to wear. What did sensible mean? Her heart gave a painful lurch when she thought of the suitcases and cardboard boxes Steph had volunteered to collect from the apartment she'd shared with Alex. She hadn't had the need, or the courage, to unpack them yet as she hadn't had much of a social life since she'd high-tailed it down to Richmond.

In the end she selected a pair of black jeans and teamed them with a clover-coloured angora cardigan and flat pumps. She took extra care with her hair to make up for the absence of sartorial elegance that came so easily to Ed. Her blonde curls were her crowning glory but now hovered well below her ears and she made a promise to herself to either take a trip to see Hollie or ask her sister to recommend a local salon. She spritzed on a few drops of Beyoncé Pulse, grabbed her bag and rushed out of the front door to Ed's Alfa Romeo before Jess could suggest she invite him in. Her sister still thought she was seeing Ed as a stepping stone to mending her broken heart and she was sure her face would give her true feelings away.

‘Hi, you look great, but not for the activity I've got in mind for us today.'

‘Well, as you wouldn't tell me where we're heading…'

‘Don't worry. I have some spare kit in the back.'

‘Spare kit? I'm not sure I like the sound of this.'

‘Like I said, you can't always play it safe, Lucie. You can't just find your comfort zone and stick with it, live your life engulfed in the fear of “what ifs”. You have to take some chances, a few risks and who knows what you'll discover? I've promised you a day filled with fun and thrills you've probably never experienced before and that's what I intend to deliver.'

‘Thrills?' she muttered, a shiver of fear rippling through her chest. ‘Ed, I'm really not an outdoorsy kind of girl. Give me a warm, dry kitchen, a stack of cookery books and a supply of coffee and I'm happy. Anyway, it looks like it's going to rain.'

Lucie peered out of the windscreen at the bruised sky overhead and Ed laughed. ‘Trust me. I've prepared for every eventuality. Now sit back and relax. We'll be there soon.'

She did as she was told but as the Alfa Romeo cut through the traffic south on the M25 her trepidation began to mount. What could he have planned for them? And what sort of ‘kit' did he expect her to change into? A slash of horror exploded in her chest as she envisaged being forced to wear combats and spend the day paintballing in a dark, dank forest, or worse, leaping from a plane with a flimsy parachute strapped on her back as her only safeguard against meeting the ground at speed.

She shot a worried glance at Ed, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as he took the exit slip road from the motorway. In profile, he was as attractive as ever in his skin-tight jeans and heather-coloured cashmere sweater. His sleeves had been shoved up his forearms to reveal an expanse of tanned skin and a ripple of
desire joined her apprehension. It occurred to her that whenever she was in the company of Ed Cartolli, her emotions boiled out of control, whether that was an overflow of anger and indignation at Francesca's, unexpected shock and alarm when he'd turned up at Gabriella's birthday party, or the concoction of nervousness and sexual attraction that was whipping through her veins now. Being with Ed was dangerous whichever way she looked at it and she had an inkling that the danger was only going to magnify in the next few hours. She felt exhausted just by sitting next to him.

Her eyes lingered on his hand draped across the steering wheel and the three missing fingers. Oh, God! Had his injury been caused during one of his thrill-seeking activities? Maybe even the actual one they were on their way to, which was why he'd insisted on keeping it a secret. Panic began its insidious coil around her abdomen. She started to feel lightheaded and almost had a coronary when Gatwick Airport loomed in front of them. They were going skydiving! Her breath began to feel laboured. She was about to die!