by Amber Crewes
Meghan’s jaw dropped. “Of course Kirsty Fisher is in charge of such a fancy event,” she muttered as Kirsty Fisher, one of Sandy Bay’s social butterflies, appeared next to the young brunette woman. As a business owner in Sandy Bay, Meghan had frequently interacted with Kirsty who was constantly trying to get her to help with events in town, or provide goods for a party or festival, and while Meghan admired Kirsty’s commitment to her causes, she could be a bit much.
“Thank you for having me,” Kirsty smiled as she flipped her blonde hair behind her narrow shoulders. “This year’s ball will be the night of all nights! We have so many special guests coming to town, and of course, Governor Brown and his lovely wife, Paula, will be hosting. The tickets are five-thousand dollars per person this year, and the planning committee is delighted to see how much fun we can have. Come, everyone. Purchase tickets before they sell out!”
Meghan clapped her hands in delight. “Jackie, Paula Brown is from Texas, my home state. She was Miss Texas years ago, and then she became an actress in Hollywood. She is so beautiful. I grew up with a picture of her on the wall in my bedroom.”
Jackie smiled. “That’s adorable, Meghan. Maybe you can sneak into the Governor’s Ball and meet her?”
Meghan raised an eyebrow. “I would have to sneak in,” she admitted. “I cannot afford a five-thousand dollar ticket to the ball. Maybe someday….”
The television screen turned to black, and then it revealed a middle-aged man in a white chef’s hat. “Look at that, Meghan,” Jackie said as she pointed to the screen. “It’s Claude Boucher. He’s that famous chef from Paris. He must be in town as a celebrity guest at the ball.”
“I know who Claude Boucher is,” Meghan boasted. “I do own a bakery. Claude Boucher is one of the most famous chefs and bakers in the world right now.”
The two women watched as Claude sat across from a red-headed reporter on a green leather couch. “Mr. Boucher,” the reporter asked. “You will be a guest at the ball this year, but a little bird tells me that you are assisting the planning committee in designing the menu? What can you tell us about this?”
Claude leaned back and brushed the silver hair from his forehead. He smiled, and Meghan noticed the deep dimples in his cheeks. “Well, it is an honor to design the menu,” Claude declared as he crossed his right leg over his left leg. “And unlike other years, we are not going to be exclusively importing the foods from France.”
The red-headed reporter leaned in. “Oh? So this year will be different? Where will the foods be found for the Governor’s Ball?”
Claude gestured at the camera. “From here, of course. We are celebrating local foods this year to give the Governor’s Ball just a little something special. For example, we usually fly in our crème brulee from Paris, but this year, we have been investigating local options from the Pacific Northwest.”
Meghan’s heart began pounding in her chest. “Jackie,” she whispered as Claude flashed a radiant smile to the red-headed reporter. “Jackie, they’re asking local chefs and bakers to cater the Governor’s Ball. I’m a local baker!”
Jackie jerked her chin at the television. “Be quiet. We need details, lady.”
As Meghan shut her mouth, Claude grinned. “We’ve been quietly searching up and down the West Coast for the best of all dining options, and I am thrilled to say that for this year, we have chosen the Truly Sweet bakery in Sandy Bay to provide the desserts for the Governor’s Ball.”
Meghan fell off of the couch. “Jackie,” she murmured with a shaking voice. “Jackie, he just said Truly Sweet. He just announced that my bakery is going to be providing the desserts for the biggest event of the year.”
Jackie ran over to Meghan and wrapped her arms around her. “This is fantastic news. I cannot believe this. You should be so proud.”
As the two women embraced, Meghan’s heart fluttered with joy. She closed her eyes and imagined her night at the Governor’s Ball. She had been to fine events before, but never something as prestigious as this one. As Jackie began to squeal in celebration, Meghan felt a happy tear roll down her cheek.
“This is just truly sweet, Jackie,” Meghan exclaimed as she wiped the tear from her dark eyes. “This news is truly sweet!”
2
“Pamela, you are doing a wonderful job,” Meghan gushed as she watched her newest employee drizzle hazelnut icing atop a freshly baked tart. “You have caught on to Truly Sweet’s treat-making processes so quickly. I am quite impressed.”
Pamela beamed at Meghan, her braces shining in the light of the sunny afternoon. Meghan had hired the teenager the previous week to do some cleaning in the evenings, but after Meghan had caught her frosting a cake like an expert, she knew that Pamela had talent and should be promoted.
“The way you fluffed the dough earlier was lovely, and I saw that you added three cups of butter to the mix. I usually only add one and a half cups of butter, but after trying your batch of tarts, I think I need to add more.”
Pamela’s brown eyes glittered. “I’ve been practicing, Meghan. Making these tarts for you was so much fun, and I just want to keep baking and baking and baking.”
Trudy stormed into the kitchen, her greying hair messy and her clothes covered in flour. “Meghan, the dishes are done and the cookies have been baked. May I go, now?”
Meghan nodded. “Sure, Trudy,” she said as Trudy walked to the door. “No problem.”
Pamela turned to look at Meghan. “What’s her problem? I feel like she doesn’t like me.”
Meghan shook her head. “It’s not you,” she assured her as she ran a hand through her long, dark hair. “Trudy’s been in a weird funk lately. Don’t take it personally.”
Pamela smiled. “That’s what my soccer coach says when the other team is rude. It isn’t wise to take things personally from people who do not know us personally.”
Meghan grinned. “You are wise for an eighteen-year old,” she told her. “It’s nice having you around. You remind me a bit of Lori, one of the girls who used to help me here.”
Before Pamela could respond, the yellow door of the bakery flew open, sending the little bells attached to the door flying about. Claude Boucher strutted into the bakery, and Meghan nearly dropped the long, plastic tube she was using to ice the tarts. “Bonjour,” Claude called out as he smiled at Meghan and Pamela. “I hope I am not interrupting anything important.”
Meghan’s mouth was agape, and she could not form a coherent thought. She remembered Claude’s appearance on the news the previous week, and the announcement that her bakery had been chosen to provide the treats for the ball, but after hearing nothing, she had forgotten about the excitement. Now, as Claude stood before her in her bakery, Meghan’s face grew red, and her hands began to shake.
“We’re just finishing these tarts,” Pamela informed Claude as she handed him one. “Would you like to try one? I modified the recipe, but Meghan says they are some of the best she has ever had.”
Claude looked from Pamela to Meghan. “I would love to sample one of the tarts, but first, I must know: who is the owner of this quaint little bakery? Where can I find the proprietor?”
Meghan stuttered, unable to maintain her composure around the famous chef. ‘“It’s….it’s….it’s….”
“It’s her,” Pamela said matter-of-factly as she pointed to Meghan. “She owns the bakery. I just started helping out last week.”
Claude reached for Meghan’s right hand and drew it to his lips. A chill ran down Meghan’s spine as he kissed her hand, and she could feel her cheeks growing warm. “Meghan Truman, it is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance. No one told me how lovely you would be, and I am so happy to finally meet you.”
Meghan stared at Claude. “Nice….nice….nice….to...nice to….”
Pamela looked confusedly at Meghan, and then she took Claude’s hand. “Meghan is happy to meet you, and so I am. You have an accent. Where are you from?”
Claude graciously smiled at Pamela. “I am from Pari
s. I am a chef there, young lady, and from the looks of things, you are a little chef as well.”
Pamela grinned. “I help Meghan here with odds and ends, but I hope to be doing more baking in the future. For now, though, I am late for soccer practice. Meghan, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Meghan stared as Pamela tore off her soiled apron and dashed out of the front door. Claude returned his attention to Meghan and grinned. “Meghan Truman, I have some very exciting news for you. Have you heard of the Governor’s Ball? It is the premiere event in the Pacific Northwest.”
Meghan nodded, still struggling to speak, but Claude continued, “this year, we are sourcing our catering from local vendors,” he explained to her. “We have searched near and far, and the planning committee has decided that your bakery will be providing desserts for the event, if you are open to the idea. Kirsty Fisher spoke very highly of you, and after reading the excellent reviews you have received after only months of your business being open, we cannot pass up the opportunity to work with you. What do you say? Will you provide the desserts for the ball, Meghan? Oh, say yes!”
Meghan nodded enthusiastically. “Yes,” she told Claude, thankful that she at least could manage to answer the most important question she had been asked in her professional career. “Yes.”
“Very good,” Claude declared as he snatched her hand and planted another kiss on it. “With that, I must go. I will be in touch regarding the event. Take care, Meghan.”
Before she could process Claude’s visit and her good fortune, her tall, handsome boyfriend, Jack, burst into the bakery waving two pieces of paper in the air. “Meghan, I did it,” he shouted in delight as he sprinted to where Meghan stood in the middle of the dining room. “Hey, I did it!”
Meghan shook her head, her mind still clouded with the impact of Claude’s visit. “What? Jack, what are you talking about? What did you do?”
Jack’s blue eyes danced with excitement, and he took Meghan’s hands in his. “I scored two tickets to the ball, Meghan. We’re going to the Governor’s Ball.”
Meghan raised an eyebrow. “Are you working security for the event or something?
Jack shook his head. “No, Meghan,” he said as he squeezed her hands. “We’re attending the event! This detective is off-duty for the ball. I just want a night of fun with my girl, and this is going to be an amazing event.”
Meghan pulled her hands from Jack’s. “I don’t understand,” she told him. “The tickets are five-thousand dollars, Jack. I know that you received that promotion a few months ago, but detectives can’t afford that kind of ticket. The ball is important; all of the proceeds go to charity, but I do not want you to go into a financial hole just to make me happy.”
Jack ran a hand through his blonde hair. Meghan could see he was frustrated, and she put a hand on his shoulder. “Jack? Where did you get the tickets?”
“It’s fine, Meghan,” he assured her. “My former colleague, Michelle, got them for me; she used to work here in town, but now she works in the capital for Governor Brown. She called me up out of the blue and offered the tickets, and how could I say no? A night of dinner and dancing with the most gorgeous girl in Sandy Bay? My answer was yes, and she sent over the tickets today.”
Meghan bit her bottom lip. “Are you sure it’s okay?” Meghan asked Jack as he crossed his arms across his muscular chest. “It’s a pretty big favor, Jack. Those tickets cost a lot of money. Are you sure she doesn’t want anything in return?”
Jack frowned. “She’s a former professional colleague, Meghan,” he told her as she stared into his eyes. “She’s doing a nice thing for us, and I think we should both be appreciative.”
Meghan shrugged. “Well, you can return one of the tickets; I was asked to make the desserts for the event, so I will be given a free spot at the ball.”
Jack’s jaw dropped. “It’s official? They asked you? Meghan, that is amazing. I am so proud of you.”
Jack picked Meghan up and spun her around the dining room as she giggled. “It’s not a big deal,” she protested as Jack kissed her on the cheek.
“It is a big deal,” he argued. “We will dine and dance and indulge in your desserts at the ball. I’ll send that ticket back over to Mitchelle, but I am so happy I will be able to be there to watch you shine.”
Meghan nodded. “It will be a great time,” she said as Jack kissed her on the forehead. “My desserts and my boyfriend at the best event this town has seen? What could go wrong?”
3
The morning of the ball, Meghan assembled her team in the dining room of the bakery to go over final preparations. It was only five in the morning, and while Meghan typically did not enjoy rising before the sun, today, she was giddy as she sipped her extra large caramel cappuccino.
“This is the biggest day of my career, everyone,” she announced to the sleepy-eyed group. “I cannot thank you enough for volunteering to help me with the Governor’s Ball.”
“I’m your employee, Meghan. I didn’t quite volunteer,” Trudy grumbled.
Meghan ignored Trudy’s insolent tone and continued, “Your help is so appreciated. You will be partnering with Claude’s team to prepare our desserts at the event, and it will be the night of a lifetime. His team flew in last night from Paris, and I’m sure they will have a lot of tips and tricks we can learn.”
Pamela grinned. “I can’t believe we’re going to work with people from Paris tonight. This is going to be the best.”
“It will be,” Meghan agreed. “Pamela, I have let Claude’s team know that you will be assisting with the tarts; they seem to be your specialty, and I’m thrilled to see what you’ll create tonight.”
Pamela gave Meghan a playful salute. “Aye aye, Captain Meghan. Happy to assist where the Captain orders.”
Meghan turned to Trudy. “The team knows that you are my top assistant,” she explained. “As I will be seated with the other guests during the event, all questions regarding the desserts from Truly Sweet will be deferred to you.”
Trudy frowned. “So while you dance the night away, I’m going to be working in the kitchen to make your treats while you get the credit?”
Meghan shook her head. “No, Trudy. This is a team effort. Truly Sweet would not be where it is today if I didn’t have a wonderful group working with me, and I hope you know how grateful I am for your help.”
Trudy mumbled under her breath, and Meghan stifled the urge to say something snarky. She didn’t understand why her assistant had been so disgruntled lately, but she hoped Trudy would soon return to her normal, chipper self.
“Credit or no credit, I’m just happy to be here,” Pamela declared as Trudy rolled her eyes.
Meghan ruffled Pamela’s short blonde hair. “I love your excitement, Pamela, and to further the excitement, I have a surprise for all of you.”
Meghan disappeared into the kitchen, returning with two large purple garment bags. She gave one to Pamela and one to Trudy. “As the ball is going to be a night to remember, I thought that the Truly Sweet team deserved to look their best. Open your bags, ladies.”
Pamela tore open her garment bag and began to shriek. “It’s gorgeous, Meghan. Look at this outfit! I’ll look like a proper chef in this. Meghan, thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Meghan smiled. She had specially ordered the yellow chef smocks from her favorite online boutique; each was trimmed with lace, and Trudy and Pamela’s initials were embroidered in large, elegant cursive on the left side. With bell sleeves and tiny white buttons that studded both sides of the coat, the smocks had been expensive, but with chefs and bakers flying in from France, Meghan wanted her crew to look like professionals.
“They’re nice,” Trudy admitted as she ran her hands over the long smock. “But we’ll ruin them will the flour and sugar. Seems like a waste of good money to me.”
Meghan pasted a grin on her face. “I was happy to buy them. I think you’ll both look beautiful. So, Pamela? You will be helping with the tarts, and Trudy, you are es
sentially in charge. I’ll be nearby if either of you need anything, though, so there should be no issues.”
Pamela stood up to hug Meghan. “Thanks, boss,” Pamela said as she embraced Meghan. “I’ll be there right on time.”
Trudy nodded at Meghan as she walked to the door. “See you later, Meghan.”
Twelve hours later, Meghan took one last look at herself in the mirror as she applied a layer of mauve lipstick that matched the floor-length ballgown that her dear friend, Karen, had advised her to pick up from her house earlier.