It was time to make the icing.
Following their teacher’s directions, they divided pre-made icing into three smaller bowls like they did with the batter. Adding two or three drops of food coloring to two bowls leaving one white, they then stirred the color in.
“The next step is a little tricky,” Star said. I’ll hold a plastic bag and you’ll fill it with one color on top of the other. One bag will frost all the cupcakes. Steven, you’ll be first. Everyone watch then it will be your turn.”
As each added the bowls of icing to the bag, focusing with serious concentration, a few drips and drabs escaped. It was a little messy, but the bags were filled. Then after Star snipped a corner of the bag, the chefs iced their cupcakes giving a nice swirl to a peak, the icing flowing with bands of color. It was time to place the cherry on top.
Earlier Star had quickly decorated the top of the box lids with the name of each chef: Brooke, Steven, Bobby, Jenny Sue. The chefs transferred all but one cupcake to a white bakery box to take home. Steven snuck one over to the cameraman.
They carefully put the last cupcake on a small plate for their mom, Brooke gave hers to Star, and Steven gave his to his mother.
Paul caught all the action with his camera. Star nodded to him with a smile, as her students left class chattering about cupcakes in ice cream cones.
Chapter 16
CLASS WAS OVER. The kids grumbled a bit about cleaning up the icing bowls but once they started it was not an issue. Pushing the start button on the dishwasher, they thanked Star for inviting them to learn how to be a chef. They had a blast and were looking forward to next Saturday.
Star smiled as the kids ran to their mothers who shepherded them out to the hall. Bobby carried two white boxes holding eleven cupcakes each, his and Jenny Sue’s. His mom stood at the door waiting for her chivalrous son. Mrs. Washington thanked him for his help.
“See you next Saturday, Jenny Sue,” Bobby said with a giggle handing one of the boxes to his new friend’s mom.
“I’ll be here,” Jenny Sue said looking up at her mother. Won’t I mom?”
“Of course, you will, honey,” Mrs. Washington said.
Bobby’s face lit up as he scurried to his mom with his box of cupcakes.
“Jenny Sue, did you have fun today?” Star asked.
“Oh yes. I can’t wait to give a cupcake to daddy. Mommy, can we have my cupcakes for dessert tonight?”
“Absolutely. Please rest a minute, honey, while I talk to Miss Bloom,” Mrs. Washington said turning to Star.
The two women stepped to the baking stations.
“I’m so glad Jenny Sue was able to come today. She was looking forward to it. She’s had a tough time the past two years,” Mrs. Washington said.
“Do you mind if I ask what happened?”
“It was sudden, a small tumor, brain cancer. It’s been eight weeks since her last chemo session. The doctors say it’s in remission. Stuart and I, sorry, my name is CeeCee and Stuart is Jenny Sue’s father, we’re praying the doctor’s right. Seems like a miracle. But I admit, we worry it might return. Of course we keep our fears from Jenny Sue and her spirits are high. She’s a very sweet child. Anyway, Stuart saw an article in the Hollywood gossip newsletter. He’s a producer in town so he subscribes. The article was about your class for kids who love to cook and want to learn more about baking. The article mentioned cupcakes were on the roster the first day. When he asked Jenny Sue if she would like to participate, her eyes filled with happy tears. We felt it was a great way to transition away from the prior two years.”
“Thank you for sharing her story. The wheelchair—”
“I thought it was prudent…just for today. She still gets tired but gaining strength every day. I wasn’t sure if she might need it…sit a minute. But thanks to the boy—”
“His name is Bobby Knowles,” Star said
“Good. I was going to ask you. I’ll thank him and his mother next week and thank you, Miss Bloom.”
“Well now,” Star asked with a grin. “Jenny Sue likes cupcakes. How about blueberry pancakes? Or chicken tacos?”
“Doesn’t every family with young children live for pancakes on Sunday morning?” Mrs. Washington said with a smile.”
- - -
Star collapsed in a chair as Paul packed up his camera gear including several white umbrellas to give the appropriate lighting. He taped a white sheet behind the tables for a clean, crisp background when he filmed close-ups of the chefs.
As the last kid left Suzie came swinging in the door.
“Well, hello handsome. I didn’t know you wangled this gig. Pint-size chefs are not exactly the type of subjects you film,” she said.
“My dear Suzie, you have no idea what my type is. I’ll have you know I rather enjoyed the pint-size chefs. And the food they served up was delicious.”
“Star, any word on Roth coming back to produce your show?” Suzie said laying her hand on Paul’s arm.
“No. Nothing yet,” Star said putting her laptop in the case and the cordless mouse in a side pocket. “Have you heard anything?”
“I guess it could be a long time…if ever. I hear there’s an attempted murder investigation.”’
“Gee whiz. You two are certainly up on the news. Last time I saw him he was very much alive. I haven’t heard any rumors. Who gave you that idea, Suzie?”
“That nice Detective Drake. We had dinner together. He said everyone at the barbecue was under suspicion.”
“He took you to dinner?” Star asked eyebrows raised.
“Not exactly took. I knew who he was and we ended up at the same time in the same place so he took the opportunity to get to know me.”
Paul rolled his eyes at Star.
“He said he had a list of suspects. You’re on it Star,” Suzie added.
“Detective Drake said I was a suspect?” Star said looking wide eyed from Suzie to Paul.
“Not in so many words. He carries a little notebook in his pocket. He laid it down on the table between my salad and his whopper of a burger. Your name was at the top of the list,” Suzie said. “Plain as day. Star Bloom.”
Chapter 17
WITH HER WORDS reverberating in Star’s head, Suzie said goodbye. Paul finished packing up and started to ask Star if she would like to have lunch at the café. His invitation was interrupted when the man of the hour came hustling through the door.
“Ah, Miss Bloom, I was told I might find you in Studio 7. Lucky 7. You believe in luck, Miss Bloom?”
“Sometimes, Detective. Do you know Paul Templeton?” Star said turning to the cameraman.
“Don’t believe I do. Nice to meet you sir,” Drake said extending his hand. “Hope I’m not interrupting something.”
“No, Detective,” Paul said. “I was just leaving. See you next Saturday, Star. Same studio? Same time?”
“Yes, and thanks for your help. I’m anxious to see the video you shot today. “
Star’s eyes followed Paul as the door swung closed. Taming her nerves, she turned to the detective.
“What brings you here, Detective Drake? The grapevine, or rumor mill, whichever seems to be active around the halls of Burnett Media? Now that you’ve tracked me down, what can I do for you?”
“It’s the hospital’s lab report. I’ll share with you some information about what the report listed in Mr. Roth’s stomach.”
“And you thought I’d be interested because?” Star said.
“Well, you know, a cook—”
“More of a bakery chef,” Star said rubbing her arm as a chill ran up. Surely he can’t think I had anything to do with Roth’s sudden collapse at the barbecue.
“Not a very interesting mix of food was found being he was at the barbecue—hotdog, hamburger, coleslaw, potato salad, red wine, and a cupcake, along with the arsenic, of course. That was interesting. There were no drugs.”
“Mr. Roth must have been hungry. That’s quite a list of food. I was so excited I only had a cupcake and glass
of wine.”
“Miss Bloom, the cupcake definitely had traces of arsenic. Enough so that it might have been the culprit. The arsenic could have come from the cupcake. In fact given the timeline, Mr. Roth collapsed shortly after he ate a cupcake, possibly minutes. The cupcake had whole raisins almost a fruitcake. Of course, there’s always the chance someone baked the poisoned cupcake, a lone cupcake, where the barbecue took place outside. It could have been baked in the kitchen we’re standing in right now. Your kitchen, Miss Bloom. Lucky 7. Oh, I must ask you not to leave town.”
- - -
The detective left without saying another word. The dishwasher gave a final swish and stopped. A sudden silence filled the kitchen studio. Was this what it was like in a jail cell? Gray cement block, silence? Star thought. The detective’s last remark was ominous.
The kitchen that held the laughter and giggles of her students now closed in on Star. All the energy, wicked-fun time left with the children. She quickly packed up her large tote with the extra spatulas, extra recipe cards, and a cupcake Brooke gave her as she left. Without looking back she turned off the lights and slammed the door. The sharp sound of the door was almost calming shutting down bad thoughts. But not quite. The detective’s words lingered.
Chapter 18
IT WAS LATE IN the afternoon when Star walked into the house. She slipped into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and took off down the path to the beach. Kicking off her sandals she ran into the rising surf. It felt cool, soothing yet invigorating. She ran in the ripples, the edge of the incoming tide. Faster. Faster. Faster until her lungs couldn’t keep up. Falling to her knees, gasping for air, she looked to the sky. It was a light blue with scattered puffs of white clouds. A tear escaped her eye. She let it drip to the top of her knee pressed into the sand.
What was happening to her, her dreams of having her own bakery? That dream came true and along with it an inheritance from a very wealthy man she had befriended thinking he was just an old man who liked to watch her cook in the reality TV show. That money sat in a savings account. She needed to move it, invest it. But where? Stocks? She didn’t know anything about the stock market. Was the money the problem?
Tyler had an opportunity to make it big in California. Because her bakery was secure in the hands of the Butterworth sisters, she had followed him to Hollywood. Did she follow him or did she really come to California because of the promise Roth made to finish the production of the reality show, the bakeoff competition that she won? Or, was it both?
Whatever brought her to Hollywood, she now felt lost. Tyler was off doing his thing. She doing her thing. What happened with their dream, dream of being together—he creating cartoon pictures, she doing…she doing what?
Star sat in the surf letting the ripples crawl up her legs, drawing back.
Was that it? She had fulfilled her dream and didn’t know what to do next? No. No. She wanted to teach kids how to cook. That’s why she was eager to film a pilot episode. They were so eager to learn, so delighted in the preparation, the process and taste of what they had cooked. Besides sharing her idea with Roth, she had pitched a cookbook for kids to a publishing house in New York. She envisioned a series of books targeting different age groups. However, the publisher never acknowledged receiving her ideas.
But she knew Tyler was at the center of her feeling of loss. They never said they loved each other anymore, maybe occasionally, but they did love each other…didn’t they? It felt like love. Maybe it wasn’t. Did he have eyes for Roxy? She saw how Roxy looked at him at the barbecue.
Did he return the look, a look of interest, or more? Maybe he wanted to be with her, someone in the same business, build a business of their own. Not be side-by-side with me the baker girl…building separate lives.
I’m not sure I like it here, she thought. Then there’s Mr. Burnett. Was he making advances or was I mistaken? Maybe he was just being kind. Roth seems like he’s making a recovery, but is he really? I’m teaching kids how to cook without a producer only with a cameraman on loan for a few hours. A cameraman who is a wannabe actor. He could up and leave for a bit part. Would Burnett find someone else for her? What about tomorrow?
She had to concentrate on the kids. She had to make the next three classes fun, stimulating, so much so that the pilot would be compelling to an audience. Compelling to Burnett so he would give the go ahead, give Roth the go ahead, or another producer.
Star ran a few feet in the swirling surf and then on down the beach to the path where she left her sandals. She pulled her cell from her shorts pocket. She needed to talk to Tyler and was pleased to see there was a voicemail and a text message from him. She tapped the voicemail first.
“Hey, it’s me Ty. You’re obviously busy. Got to run. Will text U.”
She then read the text message.
“How did the kids cooking class go this morning? I bet the boys are in love with their pretty teacher. I hate this phone/text tag stuff. Call me tonight…if you get a chance. I know you’re busy…lunch and stuff.” His voice paused, hesitated. “Star, I miss you. I didn’t want to tell you like this, but the team is in Paris. We arrived this morning. A collaboration for a segment of the film with a French group. I promise when I get back we’ll see each other, make plans…at least for a few days.”
Star flopped down on the sand. Great. Just great. Now, Tyler’s in Paris. I didn’t even know he was going.
“PARIS?”
The word felt like a gut punch. She made her way up the path, into the house and shut the world out. She wasn’t hungry. Maybe a glass of wine would smooth over her feelings of abandonment?
Chapter 19
CURLED UP ON THE couch sipping a glass of wine, she tried to leave her unfulfilled dreams on the beach, and the detective’s words out of her mind as well as Tyler’s text message. She snapped on the television and started jotting down notes on the kid’s class for the following Saturday.
The television?
What was that?
Star’s mouth dropped as she listened to the reporter.
“This is your ABC evening news. We have a report from Hollywood. A producer, Vincent Roth, has died. There are rumors, which we have not been able to confirm, that there may have been foul play. In other words, murder is suspected. We will be following this story. Stay tuned for updates. We will bring them to you as we receive them.”
Her cell vibrated. It was her mother in New Jersey.
“Star, your father and I were watching the late-night news. That producer, Mr. Roth, isn’t he your—”
“Yes, Mom. I’ll call you tomorrow. Ty’s on the line.”
Star disconnected her mother and picked up Tyler.
“Ty?” she whispered her eyes still glued to the television.
“I just heard. Roth. Are you okay?”
“Yes. No. Ty, he was doing well…recovering…”
“Star, I’m still in Paris. I couldn’t sleep. A friend called me from Hollywood. He knew about your production. Star, we leave for Hong Kong in a few hours. Two days. I’ll be home Tuesday or Wednesday. Keep me posted. If I’m in a meeting, send me a text. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Paris and Hong Kong?”
“I tried to call you. The project…well, an opportunity came out of the blue. The team thought we should go. The Disney rep is paying. I’ll fill you in later.”
“All right. Fly safe.”
“Star, I love you.”
“I love you too.”
- - -
Star couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts bounced from poor Mr. Roth to the production of the reality Bakeoff show and her role as host. Her role? No Roth. No producer. No show. She knew Burnett didn’t like the production. He as much as said so. The show could likely be canceled. The kids’ pilot could be on the chopping block as well. Roth had gone to bat for her from his hospital bed.
Tyler’s in Hong Kong.
Now what? Back to Daytona Beach. Back to Star’s Bakery and the Butterworth sisters? Leave Ty? No
. That was one thing that she was not going to do.
Forget the rumors.
They loved each other.
Ty loved her didn’t he? He said he did.
Chapter 20
AT LOOSE ENDS, sleep out of the question, Star got out of bed. It was 5:10 a.m. 8:10 in Daytona Beach. She called her bakery. The Butterworth sisters were sorry, but they couldn’t talk. It was busy. Benny was swamped at the register with the morning coffee crowd. Wanda was out buying more supplies and Hattie, Mattie and Anne were waiting on customers.
Jane Haliday wasn’t home and Star didn’t feel like talking to her parents so she trotted down the path for a morning run to clear her head…hopefully.
Not one to sit idly watching her life fall apart, Star returned from a frantic run on the beach with a plan of attack.
Tyler was returning in the next few days. She’d get the ball rolling. See what was possible. Then the two of them could decide together if her plan was doable.
Once before in her life she wished she had money. Not just a little money. A lot of money. She worked hard. She wasn’t a slacker. But when Wanda and her husband closed Charlie’s Diner she had to take charge of the situation. She scouted out the perfect store front for her bakery, but she had no money. Mr. Wainwright, a man she never met, a man dying of cancer. A man she’d brought joy to as he followed her in the bakeoff competition. That man anonymously gave her the funds to open her bakery. She acted prudently to stretch every penny of the $100,000. With the help of Wanda and Charlie, owners of the defunct diner, and with the help of the Butterworth sisters and Benny Howard, the wheelchair-bound man, together they pulled off the opening of Star’s Bakery. She felt good at how she spread her good fortune to others. All who helped with the bakery had benefited.
Of course, her life-changing blessings really started with Jane Haliday. After a terrible hurricane Star found an ornament with a large diamond ring that landed in her Palmetto bush outside her apartment’s sliding glass door. Hearing Jane’s plea on television needing help to find the angel that was blown away from her holiday tree by a tornado that slammed into her trailer, Star decided she could not keep such a treasure. It belonged to someone else. Star heard a reporter tell how Jane was looking for the angel. Star contacted her and returned the ring. Thinking that was that, Jane Haliday turned around and paid for Star’s baking classes kicking her dream of one day opening a bakery into a possibility. Star felt blessed. Twice people had come to her rescue and each time her actions benefited those around her as well.
A Cupcake to Die For Page 5