Shaking off thoughts of Tasha-the-Pinhead Burke (as nicknamed by Gram), who was uncharacteristically absent from their weekly Thursday night meeting, Rocky set aside the teapot and reclaimed her seat.
She waited until Sam finished passing around his recipe cards, another tradition, before proposing her next idea. “I was thinking, since we’ll have our own booth at the Spectacular, in addition to the free cupcake treats for the kids, maybe everyone could contribute a dozen or so cupcakes, utilizing the pumpkin theme, which we’ll sell—proceeds earmarked for the day-care center.”
“Great idea,” Sam said.
“Dandy,” said Gram. “Put me down for two dozen of my Pumpkin Walnuts.”
Smiling, Rocky penned a list as everyone chimed in.
Rachel cleared her throat. “Wait. That’s a lovely thought, but Gretchen’s sort of touchy about contributions. She has her own way of doing things and she’s keen on obtaining a grant.”
Gretchen Tate, owner of Sugar Tots and Rachel’s boss.
“Those things take time,” Rocky said kindly, “and from what you’ve told us the center could use some immediate upgrades. We can at least contribute to the playground fund you mentioned.”
“I think Gretchen intends to reach out to local businesses.”
“Smart,” Helen said. “Meanwhile, let us help a little, Rachel, honey. That’s what we do.”
It was what Rocky loved most about Cupcake Lovers—their camaraderie and charitable efforts. Founded in 1942, the social club had gathered weekly to share sweets, tea, and news from their loved ones who’d gone off to fight in WW II. As a way to boost morale and to share a taste of home, the group began shipping cupcakes to soldiers. Over time, the club evolved and, in addition to spreading joy overseas, they also started organizing local charitable events.
“It’s settled then,” Rocky said. “A week to prepare and—”
“Sorry I’m late, Sweet Peeps, but wait until you hear my news!”
Sweet Peeps?
Rocky rolled her eyes at the pretentious greeting, then turned and frowned. Decked out in four-inch heels and a formfitting dress that highlighted her curves—some cultivated by a personal trainer, others, like her big, pert breasts, compliments of surgery—Tasha blew into the room, commanding everyone’s attention. As always.
“Did you just walk into my house without knocking?” Gram asked.
“I knew I was expected.” Tucking her sleek, black hair behind her diamond-studded ears, Tasha took a seat at the head of the table. There were two other empty chairs, but oh no, she assumed a seat of authority.
I should have sat there,
Rocky thought. If for no other reason than to rob Tasha of the opportunity. “We were discussing our efforts for next week’s Spookytown Spectacular,” Rocky said, vying for control.
“I vote for whatever everyone else voted for,” Tasha said with an
I-couldn’t-care-less
smile. “Now for my news! Brett called. The collective powers-that-be at Highlife Publishing loved our proposal for
Cupcake Lovers’ Delectable Delights—Making a Difference One Cupcake at a Time.
” She squealed and applauded. “We’re going to contract, Sweet Peeps!”
Rocky bristled.
If she calls us that one more time …
“Incredible,” Judy said.
“Unbelievable.”
“Seriously?”
“Wow.”
Similar sentiments followed, including Sam’s, “Freaking A.”
Rocky remained skeptical. A brainchild of Tasha’s, this project reeked of disaster. That it was actually one step closer to realization only amped Rocky’s misgivings.
Three weeks ago, at the urging of Tasha, who at the time had been their leader, the club had submitted a proposal for the recipe book—enhanced by photos, the history of the club, and heartwarming accounts—to Highlife, a New York publisher specializing in nonfiction. The entire process had been a hassle, complicated by Tasha’s controlling nature and rabid quest for fame that had resulted in the members demanding she relinquish her role as president. Rocky, who’d been appointed as the new president, had secretly hoped the self-absorbed witch would quit the group entirely.
Ha.
If Rocky were paranoid, she’d think the woman had retained her membership solely to make Rocky’s life hell. Not that her life had been a picnic lately even without Tasha’s influence, but that wasn’t the point. Clearly the main reason the narcissistic woman had swallowed her pride was because she was banking on this publishing deal. Apparently, marrying the town mayor (who was stinking rich and influential) hadn’t quenched Tasha’s thirst for power and glory. Not that there was much glory to be had in their small town.
Sugar Creek, Vermont. Population 1,355. A quaint tourist destination for Flatlanders visiting the Green Mountain State in search of stunning scenery, relaxation, or assorted outdoor recreation. Home of Cupcake Lovers, an association with a long and notable history that, in addition to their delicious recipes and the current popularity of cupcakes, had apparently landed the club a book deal.
“I don’t know why you’re all so stunned,” Tasha said with a haughty tilt of her chin. “I told you we’d get an offer. Brett called me this afternoon with the good news.”
Brett Pearson, the senior editor she’d been wooing on behalf of the club even though she was no longer president. They’d all agreed Tasha should remain the liaison in this instance, mostly because she’d established contact. Partly because no one else wanted the job. Especially Rocky, who was up to her eyeballs in renovations with the Red Clover.
Gram frowned. “You’ve been sitting on this news all day?”
“Don’t get your granny panties in a twist, Daisy. I wanted to tell all of you in person and we were meeting tonight anyway. What’s a few hours?”
“Don’t get your reconstructed nose out of joint,” Gram fired back. “I’m just saying this is exciting stuff.”
The front door opened and shut, followed by rushed footsteps. “I apologize for being so late, everyone. It took longer than anticipated for Devlin, Luke, and me to hang the signage and shelves that just came in. You’re going to love it, Daisy! Looks even better than it did in the online catalogue!”
Rocky grinned at Chloe, who’d blown into the room and sucked the wind right out of Tasha’s sails. The petite woman with an adventurous spirit that matched Gram’s had originally moved into town and this house to work as Gram’s companion, specifically as a chauffeur and cook. Chloe still did those things, temporarily, but she was now also Gram’s business partner. Rocky had known Chloe less than two months but already loved her. She also loved that Dev, her overprotective, sometimes-pain-in-ass brother, loved Chloe. The icing on the cake? Tasha hated the highly motivated and cute-as-hell culinary whiz kid. Partly because Chloe had landed Dev. Mostly because, after living in New York City for fourteen years, Chloe trumped Tasha big-time in life experience and accomplishments.
Long chestnut hair pulled back in her signature sloppy ponytail, Chloe peeled off her vintage leather jacket and trendy scarf and plopped into a chair next to Judy. “What did I miss?”
The older woman leaned into her and winked. “Sam asked Rachel out on a date.”
“We got a book deal,” Monica said.
“Um … wow. On both counts.”
“I’m flying to Manhattan tomorrow to seal the deal,” Tasha said, grappling for the limelight.
Which earned a universal,
“What?”
“We agreed that if this happened,” Sam said, “Dev would be our business advisor. He needs to look over those contracts, Tasha.”
“You can’t just sign an agreement without us knowing specifics,” Monica said. “We’re all involved.”
“Settle down, Sweet Peeps. I wasn’t going to sign anything.”
Chloe blinked. “Did she just call us Sweet Peeps?”
“You really need to drop that, Tasha,” Rocky said.
“Why? It’s catchy. If I’m going to promote us on Facebook and Twitter, we need a catchy name.”
“We have a catchy name,” Helen said. “Cupcake Lovers.”
Sam shot Tasha one of his death stares. “Don’t ever call me Sweet Peep in public, and that includes online.”
Tasha huffed. “Whatever. Back to my trip to Manhattan. In one of our conversations Brett had expressed interest in sampling our cupcakes firsthand. He also thought it would be helpful if the publicity department could speak with me in person, to get in touch with the human side of the club.”
Gram opened her mouth, only Chloe spoke first. “Maybe Rocky should go with you.”
“What?” Rocky blurted.
“Why?” Tasha snapped.
“She
is
the acting president of Cupcake Lovers, plus she could add some interesting insight.”
“Plus, she’s human,” Gram said.
“I agree,” Sam said. “Rocky should be involved in those meetings. As for the cupcake samples—”
“I spent all afternoon whipping up a batch of my Death By Maple cupcakes,” Tasha said. “Consider Brett and his team smitten at first bite.”
“No denying that recipe is to-die-for,” Monica said, “but a variety might be nice.” She gestured to the platters on the table. “Plenty of fresh cupcakes here and a broader representation of the club’s talents.”
“I’ll wrap you up a nice care package,” Ethel said.
“It’s a plan,” Sam said. “Rocky will join Tasha in New York and together they’ll present a sampling of our cupcakes to Highlife. All in favor?”
Everyone, with the exception of Rocky and Tasha, raised their hands.
“Settled,” Gram said. “You’ll both go.”
Rocky could think of a dozen reasons why she shouldn’t go. A dozen and one. But as acting president and a longtime member and, even more so, as everyone’s friend, she couldn’t allow Tasha to represent them unchecked. God knew what she’d say or do while grabbing for the brass ring.
Rocky looked at the woman who, three weeks ago during a down and dirty bar brawl, had tried to shove an olive up Rocky’s nose. “Why tomorrow, Tasha? Why so soon?”
“Because they had an unexpected opening in their publication schedule and, given the current red-hot popularity of cupcakes, they’re putting our recipe book on the fast track.”
“How fast?” Rachel asked.
“I’ll find out,” Tasha said, then smirked at Rocky. “I booked a private charter.”
But of course she did. Tasha, or rather her husband, was loaded.
“Be at the airfield by seven o’clock a.m. As for hotels, I’ll be staying at the Waldorf Astoria.” She smiled. “Might be a little pricy for you.”
“I have some contacts,” Chloe butted in. “Don’t worry, Rocky, I’ll hook you up with something affordable. I’d come with, but the grand opening of Moose-a-lotta is on Saturday.”
Tasha snorted. “Charming name.”
“We thought so,” Gram said. “It’s a themed café,” she told everyone. “Wait until you see!”
“Can’t wait,” Rocky said.
Tasha raised a professionally shaped brow. “Did I mention I’m not flying back until Sunday?”
Meaning Rocky would miss the opening of Moose-a-lotta. “What publisher does business on Saturday?”
“Our publisher.”
“Don’t worry about it, sweet pea,” Gram said. “Better you’re in the big city looking after our best interests. If you run into any hassles, you can always call Jayce.”
Rocky’s chest ached at the mention of the man who’d stolen and crushed her heart more than a decade before—not that Daisy knew. That walking Adonis of supercharged testosterone was the number one reason she did
not
want to go to Manhattan. Jayce lived a stone’s throw away in Brooklyn. Too close for Rocky’s comfort. After years of tense avoidance, they’d shared a week of volatile arguments. Every confrontation sizzled with sexual awareness. Heady stuff. Irritating, too, since Rocky wasn’t in the habit of sleeping with men she despised. When they’d parted three weeks ago, Jayce had melted her brain cells with a scorching kiss.
Good-bye,
he’d said.
For now.
Since then those words had haunted Rocky. They had sounded like a threat. Or maybe a promise. It scared the hell out of Rocky. She did not under any circumstances want to see Jayce again. Her freaking vulnerable and mangled heart couldn’t take it.
“Rocky’s a scrapper,” Helen said. “She won’t run into any hassles.”
“But if she does,” Gram said, “she can count on Jayce. Always been fond of that boy. He’s like a third big brother to my Rocky.”
Rocky traded a look with Chloe and Monica, who knew her deepest, darkest secret.
Big brother, my ass.
That tore it. Her trip to the city would just have to be 100 percent hassle free. In the words of Gram:
hassle, schmassle.
In order for Rocky to call on Jayce Bello, it would have to be one flipping huge catastrophe.
She couldn’t imagine.
CHAPTER TWO
Even though Chloe and Monica had offered to take Rocky out for a drink, she’d opted to drive straight home. She knew they wanted to give her the opportunity to talk about Jayce, something she hadn’t done since she’d blurted her secret and barfed up her bitter heart for the two of them to see.
As someone who typically kept her personal life, most especially her romantic liaisons, private, Rocky was embarrassed she’d shared so much. A mistake she’d vowed not to repeat. Thus, all her two friends knew was that she’d broken off with Adam Brody and tried making peace with Jayce. The latter hadn’t gone according to plan. At all.
For the last three weeks Rocky had worked hard to push that torrid kiss and the feelings Jayce had rekindled from her mind. She wanted to move on with her life. Past her ancient grudge. If she let go of the resentment, maybe she could let go of the infatuation. Warped puppy love magnified a zillion percent. Maybe with a clean slate she could have a second chance with Adam or a new shot at a relationship with someone equally wonderful and safe. Instead, she still craved cocky and dangerous.
It had been so much easier to smother that attraction when Jayce had been hundreds of miles away. The few times he’d visited Sugar Creek over the years, she’d kept her distance. Until this last time. This last time he’d rented a room at her inn and ransacked her life.
Okay. It wasn’t Jayce’s fault that her B and B needed major repairs. He wasn’t to blame for her appliances going on the blink or her Jeep’s engine crashing. He had nothing to do with her flagging business or dismal bank account. But he
had
pushed her over the emotional edge.