Valhalla Cupcakes (13 page)

“Because I’m not allowed to come in there,” he yelled back.

That’s right, he wasn’t. She put her face in her hands and laughed, then swung open the door, standing just out of his reach. He’d pulled on his jeans, but the top button hung open and he was shirtless. A small part of her forgave him everything, but the bigger part wanted blood.

“I can’t believe you got cursed for sleeping with someone,” she said.

“We didn’t—”

“Shut up,” she cried, unable to hide her frustrated laughter anymore. “You make me so mad, getting dozens of phone numbers every day—”

“I crumpled them, didn’t I?” he asked. “I won’t accept them anymore. Just stop being so angry.”

She stamped her foot, knowing he had to keep flirting with all the women customers so they would stay customers, but she still had more to get out. “Then I find out your curse is because you showed some jealous witch the best night of her life.”

“I’m still reeling from it myself, believe me. I swear I didn’t do anything wrong. Are you coming out, now?” He looked so hopeful she wanted to step into his arms, but a new wave of anger crashed into her.

“And then you distracted me and we used up all that time.” Even in her fit of temper she couldn’t bring herself to call it a waste. She glanced at the clock on her dresser and wailed. “It’s after eleven and I still have to make all those cupcakes. I’m worn out because of you!”

He held out his hands, just outside her door frame. “Tell me what recipe to follow and I’ll make them all myself. I’ll stand in front of the oven until the timer goes off. I won’t let them cook a second too long.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked suspiciously.

He cocked his head to the side, his blue eyes wide, and was silent an uncomfortably long time, finally saying, “Because you freed me.”

That hurt, it really stung. She wasn’t sure why she felt so guilty when only moments before she was certain he was the world’s biggest reprobate.

“But I put you right back into another prison, didn’t I?” she asked, wondering why in hell she would say that, truth or not. She never should have opened the door. She was ruining everything.

“Come out here,” he said. She stayed out of reach, unable to take her eyes from his, which were unreadable. “Please.”

She only hesitated a moment longer and stepped outside her room, where he promptly wrapped his arms around her.

“I like your prison, Audrey,” he said.

She took the newly finished batch out of the oven and placed the pans on racks to cool, then stretched to crack all her achy joints before stepping into the front to check on things there. The high school girls were back again, and she wondered if she should start serving sandwiches. It couldn’t be healthy for them to come here on their lunch break every day and cram themselves full of sweets, just to get a glimpse of Erik. A group of moms and little kids were in the far corner, a bunch of small toys strewn across the table with their decimated cupcake remains. There were four people in line and she went to help pack their choices up for them, when she recognized the last person in line and gasped.

“You!” she hissed, scurrying around the counter to be on the same side as Erik. It was one of the thugs, looking as distressed as she was about being there. “It’s not a week yet. You have to give me the whole week.”

She’d finally placed the ad for her car, and hoped to get a bite soon. She hated giving it up, but even with the success of the shop, there was no way she’d have twenty grand to hand over in another three days without selling it.

He leaned across the counter, leaning back again when Erik came and stood beside her, scowling down at him.

“Is this man bothering you, Audrey?” he asked. His deep voice held a menacing note that made the thug visibly blanch.

“He’s one of the mobsters,” she whispered. “But it hasn’t been a week yet.”

“If you’re not supposed to be here, I suggest you leave,” he said, even scarier sounding.

He was doing such a good job of unsettling the thug, she had to grip the counter to keep from bouncing in victory.

“Look, I’m not here about the money,” he said. “My boss doesn’t know about this, so let’s just keep it between us, okay?”

“Why are you here, then?” she demanded, feeling a hundred times braver than normal with Erik standing glued to her side.

He sighed. “Can’t you tell? I’m here for cupcakes. I gave those banana ones to my girlfriend and she won’t shut up about them. I have to sleep on the couch unless I get her some more, even though I explained to her the obvious awkwardness of the situation.”

“It is awfully awkward, isn’t it,” she gloated.

The man rolled his eyes and leaned against the counter in defeat. “Look kid, I don’t exactly like having to shake down honest folks like yourself. I get this ain’t no doing of your own. Your uncle was a real piece of work for getting you into this, and if it was up to me, I’d let you slide, call it a wash. But it isn’t up to me.” He took out his wallet. “Are you going to let me buy some cupcakes or not?”

As much as Audrey wanted to watch Erik toss him out of the shop, a sale was a sale. “Fine,” she said. “We didn’t make the banana ones today, would she like any of these?”

He perused the display. “I’ll take one of each, and we’ll see,” he said, smiling to reveal a gold tooth. “Looks like the place is doing pretty well, eh?”

“It is,” she said eagerly, thinking if they could only see she was good for the money, they’d give her more time. “It’s been doing great.”

“I hope so,” he said, taking the box she handed him, along with his change. “See you in three days. Hey, you don’t think you’ll make the banana ones then, do you?”

“Out,” Erik snarled.

She sat down, shaken and not wanting the customers to see anything was wrong. “What am I going to do?”

If she managed to scrape up the money in three days, that was still only a small portion of what she owed them. If she gave them every extra cent she made, how could she pay her bills, her mortgage, her business loan?

“Where are your weapons?” she asked, knowing the mobsters were like a hydra. If Erik cut off one of its heads, two more would grow in its place. But she’d still feel safer if he had his giant axe. “Didn’t they come with you when you got out of the painting?”

He looked confused, then nodded. “Ah, yes, I remember from the years I had to stare at myself in the mirror. I wasn’t actually holding any weapons when she cursed me. The venomous snake must have painted them in to mock me.”

He cracked his knuckles and snarled ferociously and she had to admit maybe he didn’t need them after all.

“You were perfect with him,” she said. “Not over the top, but really scary. I wish I hadn’t let him buy the cupcakes, now that he’s gone. Serves him right if he has to sleep on the couch. I was just so nervous.”

“Were you?” he asked. “I couldn’t tell. I didn’t think you needed me, actually.”

She was glad to hear she hadn’t acted like a hysterical scaredy cat, but grabbed his hand as if he would leave right then.

“No, I definitely need you.” She gasped, thinking of something. “There were three of them before, but now that he knows about you, there might be more when they come back. Oh, what do I do if they come in here when there’s a bunch of customers?”

“I’ll take care of them, don’t worry. Let’s keep doing what we’re doing and not let them ruin this.”

He waved his hands at the people who happily munched away at their treats, and she nodded. She may not be making a profit, due to her damn uncle’s gambling, but there was no taking the success of the shop away from her. She wanted to run this place until she was too old to stir the batter, out of love of baking and not money, and that was what she was going to do.

More customers came in just as her phone buzzed, and she gave Erik a quick, grateful squeeze before running into the kitchen to answer. It was an unknown number and she was both fearful and hopeful that it would be someone for the car.

It was, and she agreed to meet him after the shop closed so he could look it over, and when she ended the call, she let a few tears fall over the dumb thing. She’d never been particularly attached to it, and hardly drove it since the grocery store was so close, but the fact that she was in such a predicament that forced her to sell it, felt like a kick while she was already down.

***

“Audrey, I’m exhausted,” Erik said after the last customer wished them a good night. He put his forearms on the counter and rested his head against them. “Can’t we make few batches right now so we can sleep later tomorrow?”

She smiled ruefully, not able to count how many times she’d wanted to do just that, but she wanted to uphold her high standards, and with her luck, a food critic would come around the very day she tried it, blasting her stale cupcakes and ruining her.

“It’s tempting, I know,” she said. “Especially since most people wouldn’t know the difference, but it’s not worth risking our reputation for a little extra sleep.”

“They’d only be a few hours older,” he cajoled, looking up at her with puppy eyes.

She reached across and patted him. “Yes, but I have it down to the exact amount of cooling time before frosting, so the frosting doesn’t melt, but they’re still a smidge warm inside? If we baked them tonight, they’d get dry if we didn’t frost them, and if we did, the frosting would get stiff and crack. It’s kind of like—”

“A science, yes I understand,” he said fondly.

She hoped it was fondly. It might have been sarcastically. She wasn’t sure. “Are you making fun of me?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. I’m in awe of you.”

“Now I know you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not. I’ve known many hard working women in my lifetime, but none who worked so hard as you. Not even my grandmother.”

“You can stop now,” she said, feeling her cheeks heating up, and liking his compliments more than she should have. As if she cared about what he thought of her.

He pressed his lips together and nodded, and this time she could tell his smile was definitely fond.

“You didn’t really have to stop,” she said after he was silent a moment.

He rolled his eyes and reached over to tug on her pony tail. “Yes, I did,” he said. “I had plenty more to say, but your command made me forget them all.”

She realized he still had to do everything she said and she mentally poked herself for wasting a prime opportunity to hear him say nice things about her. Feeling like a loveless, compliment-starved fool, she flounced to the kitchen to hide how flustered he made her.

He followed her, and helped clean up the kitchen. When they were done, he sidled over to her, clearly ready for their traditional after work gropefest. Just seeing the intent look in his eyes gave her a heavy limbed feeling of lust she wanted nothing more than to give in to. She glanced at the clock above the stove and made a childish noise of disappointment.

“I have to meet someone who might buy my car,” she said. “You can come with me in case he’s a psycho killer.”

“I will prevent you from being psycho killed,” he said seriously, then perked up. “Wait, you have a car? I’ve always wanted to ride in one.”

“Here’s your chance,” she said, then sighed. “Maybe your last chance.”

“Why are you selling it? There won’t be enough from sales to give to the moneylenders?”

She shook her head sadly, feeling worse about losing the car than before, now that she knew what a dream it was of his to ride in one. She could have taught him how to drive, and they could have made out in the backseat. She eyed him up and down, changing her mind when she pictured him crammed into the backseat of her tiny Mazda. He wouldn’t fit.

“Even with how well things have been going, I’m still going to fall short. I’m too scared to risk not having the whole amount. What I hope is that I can show them good faith with this first payment, and if they see how successful the shop is, they’ll give me more time to make the next payment.”

“But you don’t look or sound hopeful,” he said, tracing his finger across her brow.

She wasn’t at all, but she didn’t want to spread her bad mood to Erik, not when he was about to take his first car ride.

She showed him how to buckle his seatbelt and turned the engine on. Music blared from the last time she’d driven it and she turned the radio down.

“I don’t really drive all that fast,” she said, pulling out onto the street and heading towards the meeting place. “You probably won’t find it all that exciting.”

He gripped the door handle when she started down their busy shop-lined street, looking wildly left and right.

“There’s so many other cars out, and they’re all so close,” he said. “Do they never collide?”

“They collide all the time,” she told him flippantly, wishing she hadn’t when he paled. “I’ve only been in two accidents,” she assured him, and reached over to take his hand.

“Shouldn’t you keep both of them up there?” he asked.

They were only going thirty and she struggled to keep a straight face. She had meant to take the highway to their destination, but now she wondered if he could handle it.

“It’s really very safe, this means of travel,” she said. “One of the accidents wasn’t my fault and the other one was when I was a teenager.”