Page 1 of Tart
One
My name is Amber PhyllisLarson, and my dirty little secret is that I’m terrified of thunderstorms. Embarrassing for a woman of thirty to admit, but there it is in a nutshell. At three a.m. on a Wednesday morning in late May, it was dark, the skies were heavy with rain, and thunder rumbled in the distance over Lake Pendle. We shouldn’t have to deal with thunderstorms this early in the season in Minnesota, but someone forgot to tell Mother Nature that.
I popped a pod of coffee into the machine and waited while it spit the rich, black coffee into my travel mug. Whoever said the early bird gets the worm had never worked in a bakery for almost ten years. I didn’t just work in a bakery for nearly ten years, though. I’d been the co-owner of The Fluffy Cupcake with my best friend, Haylee, for all ten of those bliss-filled years. She was recently married to Brady Pearson, her partner in crime at the baker’s bench and now in life. That left me, the only one of the dynamic duo to remain single, much to my mother’s chagrin. Unlike Haylee or my mother, I didn’t see being single at thirty as the end of the world.
I chuckled to myself when I snapped the lid on my travel mug and turned off the kitchen light. Last year, Haylee decided she had to be in a committed relationship before she turned thirty. She made that resolution on New Year’s Eve, which only gave her seven months and thirteen days to find Mr. Wonderful. Haylee was so focused on her goal that she was too obtuse to see that the perfect guy was already right in front of her face. So, I set her up with every guy I knew she wouldn’t be able to tolerate for more than an hour, much less forever. I’m happy to report my plan worked. If she ever found out I tortured her on purpose, she wouldn’t be amused, but sometimes, we need a little help to see what is directly in front of our face.
I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder, taking a deep breath before I opened the door to my apartment. With any luck, I’d make it to the bakery before it started to storm any harder. I hated driving in lightning and thunder. Childish, I know, but if you’d lived my life the last seventeen years, you’d understand. I stuffed my thin athletic frame inside the car and slammed the door. Haylee was always jealous of the fact that I could eat anything I wanted from the bakery case without gaining a pound. I was always jealous of the fact that she had curves. What she saw as a negative feature, I would kill to have. Women are funny that way, I guess.
I shut off the engine in front of the bakery as the first drop of rain hit the windshield of my Subaru. I grabbed my purse and mug, limped to the door, and made it under the awning as the skies opened up and the rain sluiced down. When I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the smell of fresh bread and cakes hit me straight in the face. The scent was always like coming home. I loved that I worked in a place that brought so many people joy day after day, but I loved the people I worked with even more.
“Hey, Amber!” Brady yelled from the back of the bakery. “Glad you beat the rain in.”
“Barely,” I said as the first bolt of lightning lit up the sky. I darted away from the window and to the back of the bakery where I couldn’t see it. I never said I wasn’t a chicken. “Where’s Hay-Hay?” I asked, grabbing my apron off the hook after I put my purse in the office.
“In the cooler. We have cupcakes coming out of our ears and no place to put them.”
I pointed at him. “That’s why I came in early. I figured you guys were going to be scrambling to get the order ready for the school this morning.”
Brady laughed and went back to his bread kneading. “Scrambling is an understatement. I’m sure she would appreciate the help. I have to finish the standing bread and bun orders.”
Brady had become a master baker last summer and was now in charge of all the bread baking for The Fluffy Cupcake. Haylee was in charge of the pastries, cakes, and cupcakes, which meant with an order the size she had today, she was going to need help, or our bakery case would be empty this morning.
A clap of thunder boomed overhead, and I darted for the cooler, glad Brady had his back to me. Did I mention that I hate storms? I grabbed a jacket off the hook and slipped it on, then opened the cooler door and stepped in. I wasn’t upset to be in the cooler. It was our safe place for severe weather, and you couldn’t see the lightning inside.
“Hey, cupcake,” I said, gazing at the scene before me. “It looks like a cupcake apocalypse in here.”
Haylee stood up and blew out a breath, and it rustled the hair that had fallen over her forehead. “Why did I think this was a good idea?”
“I don’t know what the problem is, Hay-Hay. I mean, forty-one dozen cupcakes are like no big deal,” I said, flipping my hand around while I imitated her. “That’s what you told me when I asked if I should take the order this year.”
She rolled her eyes and went back to her cupcake counting. “It’s not a big deal when I thought I was going to make generic cupcakes. When I found out they wanted the school logo on each one, then it became a big deal.”
I peeked at the tray of cupcakes closest to me and grinned. “They look great, though! Look at the cute penguins.” We were called the Lake Pendle Penguins, and even growing up here, I never entirely understood it. We don’t have penguins in Minnesota.
“They’re cute, but they’re a pain in my gigantic ass,” she muttered, putting together another cake box to start packing cupcakes. At this rate, it will only take nine hundred boxes to transport them all to the school. Okay, that was dramatic. It will only take thirteen. I started putting together another box and helped her move all of the cupcakes from pans to boxes.
“I know the kids at the elementary school are going to love them, Hay-Hay. They’re cute, and we all know they’re going to be delicious.” Another boom of thunder shook the cooler, and I leaned back against the shelf, covering my ears and waiting for it to pass before I started packing again. I didn’t want to drop a cupcake and get in trouble with the baker.
Haylee came over and rubbed my back a couple of times. “You’re okay. The weatherman said it’s just passing showers and storms today. Nothing severe.”
I nodded and let out the breath I’d been holding. “You know I’m a chickenshit, but I’ll be fine.”
She started on the next box of cupcakes. “You’re not a chickenshit. You went through a lot, and you’re entitled to carry scars because of it.”
We packed the next four boxes of cupcakes in silence, my fingers able to count the forty-eight cupcakes for each box without even having to think about it. When most of them were packed, I glanced around the almost empty cooler.
“There’s not much product here for the case,” I observed.
Haylee pointed out the door of the cooler. “Able Baker Brady is baking off all the cupcakes and cakes we need for today. They should be cooling on the racks by now. I’ll decorate everything when I finish here. I kept it simple for today since we had all of these cupcakes going out the door. It’s Tuesday, so three flavors of cupcakes will be enough.”
“I should have known you had it under control,” I said on a head shake. “You’ve never not had it under control.”
She frowned, and her eyes clouded for a moment. “Well, there was that one time.”
My arms went around her for a gentle hug. “And that one time wasn’t your fault.”
It was just a few days before Haylee’s birthday last July when Darla McFinkle attacked her. She thought Haylee had cost her the title of Strawberry Fest Princess, but at nearly thirty, it was pathetic that Darla was even running for the crown. Darla always did what Darla wanted to do, though. She’d bullied Haylee her entire life, and it culminated with Darla trying to kill my best friend behind our bakery. If Brady hadn’t found her when he did, Darla might have succeeded. I was so glad she was still here with me every day.
