Baker’s Law

by Denise McDonald

  Hill shifted and a table squeaked. “Back here.” He wove his way through the mini-maze of tables and stools to come around the counter. “I thought it’d be easier.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “I wanted to. To thank you.” Hill ducked his head. “Not many people would go out of their way for a kid they don’t know.”

  “I didn’t do anything.” She rubbed at an imaginary mark with her thumb on the spotless countertop. “Did you clean out the cases too?”

  He shrugged. The glass fronts of the case shone even in the early morning light.

  Marissa’s throat tightened. A little piece of her had expected that he’d grab some of the smaller appliances and she’d never see him again.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Hill gripped the mop between both his hands.

  “Oh, no sweetie, no.” Marissa hurried over to him, but stopped short of rubbing his shoulder. “No, you did a wonderful job. I didn’t want you to have to go to so much trouble. I figured we’d set up a routine for you later today when I came in.”

  “Why are you here so early, anyway? Didn’t you have something—”

  Marissa gasped. “Marlie. Shit—I mean, shoot. Sorry. I’m gonna be late.” She hurried for the door. “You didn’t have to, but you’ve done a great job. I’ll be back soon. Can you lock this?” She waved as she ran out the door to her car.

  “She’s gonna kill me.” Marissa was all but chanting the refrain when she pulled onto the tree-lined lane that wound through thick oak trees up to the clubhouse. Even though it had been nearly eighteen years since her last time up the drive, everything looked just as lovely, despite the bitter memory of her dismissal. Tall, willowy bushes hid the outer world from the club and its inhabitants. On the other side of the bushes were green manicured lawns that rolled as far the as the eye could see.

  She and Marlie learned to ride bicycles in the employee parking lot when they were five. Their dad worked keeping the mowers and golf carts up and running, and it was easier to bring the girls along. One Easter the club had invited all of Oak Hollows’ children for a massive egg hunt. Later she’d learned they were resodding the entire golf course the next week anyway. They looked philanthropic; the town thought the world of the Carlisles, and all the “common” people hadn’t done any damage.

  She’d also had her first real kiss on the tennis courts. Tommy Seaver had been a senior her sophomore year. He’d been a waiter in the clubhouse restaurant when she’d been working in the laundry. They’d gone out on one or two dates, she’d kissed him, and then he’d dumped her for a senior who was a little more experienced.

  At the fork in the road, she almost turned toward the employee lot in the back. She didn’t have to, today. No, she was an invited guest, of sorts, as Marlie’s wedding planning assistant. She pulled into the lot next to the clubhouse. Her sister’s little yellow VW Beetle sat one row over, almost mocking her lateness with its bright cheeriness.

  With her purse in hand, Marissa ran for the door. Just as she went to reach for it, it swung open. She pulled her hand back in time to save it from getting struck. “Watch out.” She heaved out a breath.

  “Sorry. You okay?”

  The deep, raspy voice rolled over her. “Not now,” she said under her breath, giving herself a moment to calm before she met Jax’s gaze. He wore his chief’s uniform with a thick belt laden with cop equipment and his shiny badge pinned to his chest. Sexy. She gave a little shudder. “I’m fine. You just startled me and I’m running late.” She stepped toward the door.

  “Here, let me get that.” He reached for the door at the same time she did. His large hand covered hers.

  Marissa jerked her hand free. “Um, thanks.” She lowered her hand beside her; she didn’t want Jax to see the effect his touch had on her. “If you’ll excuse me…”

  Jax blocked her entrance. “What are you doing here?”

  Her shoulders stiffened as she straightened to glare at him. How many times had she heard the same question from his mother when she’d ventured too far from the laundry rooms? Though, she had to admit, his words held no censure. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You’re working with your sister?”

  “Yes and I’m late.”

  He nodded. “Sorry.” He moved aside. “They’re in the Cactus Room. Do you know—”

  “Up the hall and to the right. Yep, thanks.” She crossed the threshold, careful not to brush up against his massive chest. “Aren’t you coming?”

  Jax tapped the cell at his hip. “Work calls. Thankfully.” He murmured the last word under his breath.

  Marissa let the door close as he walked away. She hurried down the peach Berber carpet to the Cactus Room. She and Jax were always crossing paths. Never long enough to spend real time together, though. Her step stuttered. Did she want to go there with him? It might make all her wild late-night fantasies worse if she had to be around him too often.

  Like it even mattered.

  Jax was the chief of police of their town. He had a responsibility for the entire population. It wasn’t much different from high school when he was the captain of the football team. At that time, he had the responsibility for… pretty much the whole town. Football was the be-all end-all in a small Texas town. And Oak Hollow had a decent team. Jax’s junior year they went to state and lost by only one measly touchdown.

  Jax was sullen for nearly two weeks after the game. And the school followed suit. It was as if no one was allowed to be happy if the king of the school wasn’t. To be fair, he’d snapped out of it and still managed to secure his date to the winter formal—the homecoming queen, Darla Matthews. Marissa, of course, hadn’t gone. Marlie had had a date and relayed all the crepe paper and confetti details. Typical high school.

  Not that anything in the past had any bearing on the here and now. Marissa was grown. Had a shop to run. Marlie had her own business and both were just as happy as could be. And she would keep telling herself that every day.

  Marissa rounded the corner and heard a familiar, shrill voice. “…and we want to make sure this gets all the press it deserves.” Bunny Carlisle had her finger pointed at Marlie when Marissa walked into the Cactus Room. Bunny looked just as Marissa remembered, except she had a few—very few—more lines around her eyes and mouth. Her forehead was suspiciously smooth and didn’t move one iota as she made her demands. Marissa stifled a laugh. The woman’s dirty blond hair had gone to silver. And wouldn’t you know it, it was a lovely shade and complemented her complexion beautifully, especially in contrast with her vibrant red suit. She always swore she could give any Dallasite a run for her money—and she probably could.

  “Yes, ma’am, I understand.” Marlie had her fuchsia clipboard tucked on her right hip. She was dressed in a navy pencil skirt and a white button-down shirt with poufy sleeves. She had her blond locks twirled up in a chignon. “I’ve already been in contact with all the major papers in the area. We’re good to go.” Marlie glanced over her shoulder. “There’s my assistant. I had her running a few errands this morning. If you could just give us a moment…” she didn’t even wait for Bunny to comment, but slowly crossed over to her sister. It was only when she had her back to the other woman that she let her smile fall away. “I swear,” she whispered, “I can see why I’m the fourth wedding planner.”

  “Is it as bad as all that?” Marissa leaned to her right to look at Bunny as the woman cornered a club staffer.

  “Worse and then some.” Marlie jotted something down on the clipboard. “You’re late. I warned you that—”

  “I’m sorry. I had to stop by my shop and check on…” She started to say Hill, but she shouldn’t mention him until she and her sister could sit down in private and talk. “The shop. What do you need me to do?” She glanced around the room and finally saw the bride-to-be. Callie Carlisle was dressed much like any other member of the country club in her tennis whites. She was the spitting image of her mother, with the exception of her curly red hair.

  Ma
rissa remembered her as a spoiled-rotten daddy’s little girl. She’d gotten every toy she’d ever desired. She and her mother would go on legendary shopping trips in Dallas and sometimes down in Houston. She was the epitome of all things expensive and elite. She’d never once spared Marissa a glance when they happened upon each other at the club.

  Callie turned into Marissa’s gaze and a huge smile split her face. “Marissa Llewellyn. So good to see you.” She hurried over. The sudden outburst drew every eye in the room.

  Bunny paused in her verbal tirade to her staffer and frowned. She was two steps behind her daughter. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  Marlie smoothed out her brow and squared her shoulders. “She’s my assistant.”

  Bunny’s lip curled. “An assistant, huh?”

  “She makes the most decadent cupcakes. Owns her own adorable shop in town.” Callie was shaking Marissa’s hand.

  How in the world did Callie know who she was, much less that she had an “adorable” shop in town? She’d never once seen Callie at the bakery. Marissa leaned toward her sister and asked under her breath, “Did I fall through some wormhole?”

  Marlie shrugged. “Don’t look at me.”

  Callie’s eyes widened. “You must cater the bridal shower. Your butter-cream icing is to die for. And the lemon-tart cupcake…” She gave a deep groan.

  “Bridal shower?” Marissa said as Bunny was shaking her head wildly and saying, “Not possible. Too short notice. And we have a lovely cake coming from Heavenly Delights.” Heavenly Delights was a boutique caterer from west Fort Worth.

  “Mother, there are a hundred women coming. One little cake won’t be near enough.” Callie, still holding onto Marissa’s hand asked, “Will you? Please?”

  Marissa gulped. “How short of a notice are we talking about?”

  “Next Saturday.”

  One week to plan and prepare for… “How many cupcakes would you be needing?”

  Callie smiled. “I don’t know. At least sixty, maybe seventy-five?”

  Seventy-five. If she didn’t take her day off on Wednesday, she could come in and get them started and finish up late Friday night after the store closed. “Call my shop Monday morning and give me your order and we can have it ready.”

  “Oh, yay.” Callie bounced on the balls of her feet. “Thank you so very much.”

  When she finally released Marissa’s hand, Marissa pulled a card from her purse and handed it to the bride-to-be. Then a tall, lanky young man walked in.

  “Boopie!” Callie ran over and flung herself into the man’s arms.

  “The groom, I hope?” Marissa scooted closer to her sister.

  “Yes. Wes Johnson.” Marlie bent her head next to Marissa’s. “You sure you can get such a large order done on such short notice?”

  Marissa ran through a mental checklist. “I may not get any sleep, but I can get it done.”

  “Can we get started now?” Bunny stood in the center of the room like a queen holding court. Her red pointed shoe tapped on the carpet.

  The rest of the meeting went by in a blur. Marlie talked the Carlisles through the finer points of the next few weeks as Wes Johnson stood in the corner on his cell phone for most of it. Her sister handled Bunny Carlisle like a pro—and the woman tried everything in her power to derail the plans already set in motion. By contrast, Callie could not have been more amiable.

  By the time Marissa begged off to get to her shop, her head was swimming with organza, lilacs and tiered cakes, not to mention the mental preparations for getting a seventy-five piece order ready in a week. First thing she needed to do was check inventory.

  She parked her SUV behind the building and all but yelped when the door opened to greet her. “Hill, sorry. Was lost in my own little world.”

  “No worries.” He had a black garbage bag in his hand and stepped aside to let her through the door. He tossed the trash into the Dumpster and followed her into the kitchen. “What can I help you do to get ready?”

  “You don’t have to. You’ve done more than enough cleaning this morning.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t have any place to be just now. Might as well make myself useful.”

  Her heart broke a little more. It was Saturday. He should be hanging out with his friends.

  “You can help me get some of the morning stock ready.”

  “Making cupcakes?” Hill backed away from her. “Guys don’t make cupcakes.”

  “Sure they do.” She grabbed his arm and turned him back toward the kitchen. “It’s not difficult and guys can do anything. Grab those, the flour and sugar.” She motioned to two large containers. “Wash your hands and then we can get started on the first few batches of replacement cupcakes.” Her freezer was getting low on a few of the most popular flavors. “Let me go change.” She rifled through the bag for her jeans and T-shirt.

  They baked side by side for an hour with little talk other than her telling him about her recipes and some of the special ingredients for the flavors she’d come up with. When the third batch was in the oven she grabbed two bottles of water and told Hill to come sit with her.

  “Tell me about your mom.” She’d avoided too many personal questions until now. Hill was like a skittish puppy—move too fast and he was bound to scamper away—but she wanted to know about the woman who’d raised such a strong and resilient young man.

  Hill shifted on the stool, looking like he might be ready to bolt.

  Marissa held up her hand. “I’m just curious about what she was like. I know she used to work at Calista’s Bistro. My friend’s family owns the place and she mentioned it.”

  Hill stared at her as if she’d grown an extra head.

  “My mom.” She took a sip from the water bottle. “She ran off when I was two. I didn’t grow up knowing a mom.” If she expected him to open up to her, she’d have to be willing to share, as well.

  “That sucks.”

  She nodded. “It does. A lot. But you get through.”

  Hill sighed. “She was great. My mom. She was always there when I got home from school. Always helped me do my homework.” He chuckled. “Until I got into the seventh grade. She sucked at math.”

  Hill scraped his thumbnail along the edge of the table. “She was kind and thoughtful. A lot like you.”

  The words were so softly spoken that Marissa almost didn’t hear them. She fought back tears.

  Time to lighten things up a bit. “Lexi, is she your girlfriend?”

  He shook his head. “We’re just friends. Have been since we were little.” He stared up at her through a hooded gaze.

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “No, what? What is it?” She nudged him with her foot.

  He took a long draw on the bottle of water, swallowed, then waited a beat before he asked, “I was just wondering why you’re helping me.”

  “Honestly? I don’t know.” Marissa shrugged as the timer on the oven went off. “It seemed like the right thing to do.” And I couldn’t help my mother, so you’re the next best thing. Complete honesty wasn’t always the best policy.

  Hill followed her over to the oven. “What does your boyfriend think about it?”

  She nearly dropped the tray of hot cupcakes. “Boyfriend?”

  “The chief.” The boy’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “He didn’t look too happy when he was here last.”

  Marissa snorted. “He’s not my boyfriend. I barely know the man.”

  “Oh. The way he watched you…” Hill knocked an oven mitt off the counter, then bent to pick it back up. “Sorry, I just thought…”

  “Jax, um, Chief Carlisle just moved back to town.” Marissa busied herself putting the cupcakes on the cooling rack. “We went to school together, but we didn’t know each other. I knew him, everyone knew him. But I had no idea he knew who I was.” Her shoulders stiffened. “And I don’t know why I told you that. Just ignore that last little bit.” Marissa was losing her mind. Talking to a teenag
er—one she barely knew—about Jax. It was a good thing she and Cherry were going to the Blue Spur after work. She needed to be around people. Lots of people. Grown-up people. She needed to relax and have a good time and forget she was lonely.

  She tried to let herself get in the zone as she frosted the cooled cupcakes, but Marissa kept running over her conversation with Hill. She tried to picture Jax watching her. That was just silly. Like she’d told Hill, she barely knew Jax. Most of her memories involved him acting like a self-absorbed teenager nearly twenty years earlier. People changed, matured. She, however, wasn’t that far from the quiet teenager who’d prayed to go as unnoticed as possible throughout high school.

  Adulthood had given her some confidence, but other than in her business, she often wanted to get through her life without any excess notice. It was so much easier being invisible to folks.

  The timer on the stove chirped for the last batch. “Hill, can you get those?” she asked as she headed to the walk-in freezer with the ones she’d just finished.

  When she stepped back, Hill had set the cupcakes on the rack and was holding something out to her.

  “What’s this?”

  “My last report card.”

  Marissa’s eyebrows rose as she unfolded the paper. Hill had As and Bs. His lowest grade was an eighty-four in trigonometry. She gave a low whistle. “I don’t think I ever got grades this good.” Pride filled her—not that she had any reason for it. “That’s awesome.” She chucked him on the shoulder, then handed him back the paper, trying not to make a bigger deal about it because she didn’t think his face could turn redder or his shoulders hunch over farther.

  Instead she went back to business and grabbed a rack of the orange crème cupcakes to fill in the remainder of the case. As she put the last one in, there was a heavy knock on the glass.

  She hurried to the front. “Jax?” she said as she opened the door. “You’re not trying to get special treatment from the owner are you?” She glanced at her watch. “We don’t open for another thirty minutes.” She started to smile until she saw how he stared past her to Hill, who had just walked to the front with napkins to refill the dispensers.