Baker’s Law

by Denise McDonald

  She snorted to herself as she set the empty glass on the table. “Lazy bum.” She sunk lower in the sofa and grabbed the green afghan Marlie had given her for Christmas one year. Her eyes grew heavier and heavier. She should get up and just go to bed, but she was warm and comfy.

  As her lids slid shut for the third time, a sound roused her. She sat very still and listened. “It was probably nothing,” she said to the kissing couple on the TV screen. She chalked it up to exhaustion and tried once again to focus on the screen.

  Yet another noise jolted Marissa awake again. The TV was still on. On the screen, a car blew sky-high, the noise ridiculous. She was surprised it hadn’t woken her sooner. Her romantic comedy had long since ended and some action flick was in full steam. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was just after midnight, a couple of hours after she’d first cozied up on the sofa.

  She rubbed her eyes and dropped her feet to the floor, then turned the TV off. She’d just snatched up her wine glass to take back into the kitchen when she heard a rustling noise again. She froze midstride. It sounded like it was coming from the backyard. Her backyard.

  Still clutching the wine glass in her hands, she walked on her tiptoes to the window that overlooked the fenced-in yard. She pulled the edge of the curtain back and scanned the yard. A dark shadow crossed from one side to the other. She stepped back and dropped the glass to the floor. It shattered into hundreds of tiny little pieces. “Dammit.”

  For a moment, she stood frozen in her spot. She could call 911. It would go to an after-hours officer if she was lucky. She could call Jax, have him come out and look around, though she was afraid he might think it was a ploy to get him to come over. Then there was her brother or father. But she didn’t want to wake up either of them so late if it turned out to be nothing.

  One hand on her hip, the other on her forehead, she took several deep breaths and weighed her options.

  Careful not to move her feet too much, she leaned forward and peered out through the curtain again. Nothing seemed out of place, nor did anything move in the moonlit yard.

  She shook herself. “You’re stressed, leading to paranoid.” She backed away from the broken glass to go into the kitchen to get the dustpan and broom. On the way, she turned on every light in the house as well as the one that shone into her backyard. She might be paranoid, but that didn’t mean she was going to sit in her dark house with shadows scaring the crap out of her.

  By the time morning came around, Marissa was bleary-eyed and grumpy. She hadn’t slept longer than a few minutes at a stretch as she kept hearing noises. But as nothing happened by the time daylight broke, she was glad she hadn’t called anyone. It would have only given two people an uneventful, sleepless night.

  She was dragging herself through the motions as she prepared for work. When she poured orange juice in her cereal instead of milk, she hoped it would be the worst thing that happened in her sleep-deprived day.

  Unfortunately, it was not to be. Hill had taken one look at her when she walked in and told her she looked like hell, then stammered and quickly apologized—several times. She waved off whatever else he might say, because he wasn’t wrong. Then, shortly after Hill had left for school, she bumped her hip hard on the counter. Later, she dropped a carton of eggs on the floor and broke every last one of them—cussing up a storm. By the time Kya came in at noon, Marissa was afraid she might start scaring off customers.

  “Why don’t you go on home? I swear, it’s like you haven’t slept in the last two weeks and it’s finally caught up with you.” Kya wiped down the counter, putting some distance between them as she offered up her suggestion.

  Marissa was seriously considering it, but she was waiting for Callie Carlisle to call about her bridal shower order. “Soon,” she said, hoping it to be true. “I’m going back to my office for a bit. Come get me if…” She waved her hand. Kya was competent enough to handle the shop. Marissa was going to sit down at her desk and put her head down for just a moment. Maybe a ten or fifteen minute catnap would give her enough of a boost to get through the rest of the day—or to bide her time until the phone call came and then she could just go on home.

  She’d barely put her head down when there was a knock on her door. Kya fought back a smile.

  Marissa blinked up at her several times. “What?”

  “You have paper—” Kya motioned to her cheek.

  Marissa reached up and peeled a piece of paper off her cheek. “Super.” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “How long was I out?”

  Kya snorted. “About an hour and a half.’

  Marissa blinked harder, “Seriously? Dang.” She pulled the band from her hair and scrubbed her fingers through it, then pulled it back into a ponytail. “Did you need something?”

  “Oh.” Kya jumped and her shoulders straightened. “There’s a customer out here asking for you.”

  “Okay. Give me one sec.” Marissa crossed to the small bathroom and splashed some water onto her face. Once she’d straightened her apron she headed out to the front of the shop.

  “Marissa, how are you?” Callie smiled brightly.

  “Callie, hi. What are you doing here?”

  Her smile slipped slightly. “We were going to go over my order for my bridal shower.”

  “Oh, yeah, sure.” Marissa pasted on a smile. “I was expecting to hear from you today. I just thought you’d call in your order.”

  The smile turned back up to its thousand-watt beam. “What fun is that? I thought I’d come in and taste a few. With a couple of my bridesmaids. If that’s okay.” She waved over to a table with three women ripped right from the junior-league directory. They all had their heads bent over their phones. One, Logan Ramsey, perked up her head to give a jaunty little wave before typing madly away. “Did we come at a bad time?”

  “Absolutely not.” Marissa hurried over to her and walked her back to the table where her friends sat. “Let me get you a list of what all we make. I have most here now. And if you have about an hour, I can make a few up that we don’t have on hand.”

  “I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble. I enjoy it.” She motioned for Callie to sit. “Can I get y’all anything to drink?”

  An hour and a half later, Callie nailed down the four flavors she’d decided to go with after Marissa insisted four wasn’t too many. Marissa also had a potential subsequent order from Logan when she hosted a small fundraiser in a few months. As the ladies gathered up their things, Callie took a moment to pull Marissa aside. “About yesterday…”

  Marissa closed her eyes. “Callie, I am so sorry. I never meant to cause any trouble.”

  Callie chuckled. “Don’t you worry about that, hon. I’m just sorry my mother was so rude to you.” Her smile fled. “She had no business telling Jax to arrest you.” She stared at Marissa for a moment, then asked, “Are you okay? I know we don’t know each other well, and I mean this in the most helpful possible way. But, hon, you look worn out. If this order is too much for you—”

  Marissa believed the comment came from a good place. Callie was sweet. She didn’t seem to have a malicious bone in her body despite being birthed by Medusa’s half-cousin Bunny.

  “It’s not a problem, I promise. I wouldn’t take the job if I didn’t think I’d be able to get it done. And done right. It’s not very good advertising to have half-assed cupcakes representing my company.” She yawned before she could stifle it. She covered her mouth quickly. “Excuse me, sorry. I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep well. Too many bumps in the night, I guess.”

  Callie’s eyes widened. “What?”

  Marissa waved her off. “I’m sure it was nothing more than my overactive imagination. I appreciate you asking, though.” The bell over the door dinged, which gave her a reason to excuse herself. “I’ll have these ready Friday night so there’ll be no rush for you to get them on Saturday.”

  Callie gave a slight nod and her smile returned. “Why don’t you come to the sho
wer? Marlie will be there already. It’ll be fun.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Better yet, come tonight, too. We’re having a last-minute co-ed pre-wedding party in the club’s banquet hall.” Callie tucked her purse strap on her shoulder.

  Marissa could already see the apoplexy shooting through Bunny if she showed up to either. That might be worth it, but what if she ran into Jax? A pang of longing and sadness knocked into her. She’d told him they couldn’t be anything to each other and she meant it. Hill’s protection depended on it. If she saw Jax again her resolve might break.

  “You’ll have a blast and you’ll probably know most of the people there.” Callie gave a cute little finger wave, then joined her girlfriends. As they left the shop, she called over her shoulder, “Think about it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Think about turning home,” Marissa mumbled to herself as she drove back up the country club’s drive for the third time in a week. Somehow, Callie, with her sweet smile and overly polite manners, had shorted out Marissa’s common sense and had her returning to the club for an “impromptu” pre-wedding party. Not the engagement party—that had happened months before. Not the bachelorette party or shower—those were single-sex parties. No, this was a bride and groom and their guests get-together.

  She’d slipped out of work a little early, trusting Hill to close up. The sales had been on the low side and there was no need for a bank-run so she’d decided to give him a chance to prove his merit—and she could use the break. She took the time to run home to shower and change. She could hardly show up at the club in her work clothes—again. She’d been saving a little black slip dress for a special occasion. A few months back, Marlie had talked her into going to the mall. After three department stores and the fourth dress shop, Marissa had decided to try a few things on, if nothing else than to stem her boredom.

  When she’d slipped on the black dress, it’d fit her perfectly, like a second skin. Marissa had all but shook as she handed over her credit card to the sales girl before she could change her mind. She was so glad that she had as she pulled into the parking lot of the clubhouse. She deserved to pamper herself now and again.

  She also deserved to get out of her shop. She made a vow to get out more, to do…things.

  When Jax’s face popped into her mind, she pushed it aside. She’d asked him to back off. And even though it’d only been a day, she’d half-expected to hear from him at some point. He seemed to always be around. Always in her face. But so far he’d respected her stupid request.

  All the more reason for her to get out and meet people.

  “Yes, it is,” she said aloud in the SUV. It was one of the reasons she decided to go to the party. Not to meet people at this particular party so much as to prove that she could get out there. If Jax was there, so be it, though in the back of her mind there was a perverse wish to see him, if only briefly and from afar.

  Marissa pulled up in front of the clubhouse. A young man in a red vest tried to open her door before she’d even put it in park, but the door was still locked. He flinched and she dragged him a few feet.

  “Sorry,” Marissa mouthed. She put the vehicle in park and unlocked the door. “Sorry, sorry.” She apologized several times as she got out.

  “It’s okay, ma’am.” Timmy—his name tag read Timmy—held the door for her.

  Marissa pulled up short. Ma’am? Gaw, when did she become ma’am? The door started to close and Marissa grabbed for it. “Wait.” The door closed on her hand. “Mother…”

  “Oh geez.” Timmy turned beet-red and jumped back out of the SUV. His apologies surpassed hers in intensity and frequency. He cursed and worried he’d get fired, though under his breath.

  “It’s my fault. Really.” Marissa tucked her hand behind her when he reached for it. “I’m fine. I forgot something.” She opened the back passenger door and pulled out the stacked boxes of cupcakes. Her hand throbbed as she shut the door.

  Timmy apologized again, his shade of red slightly less E.R.-worthy. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Go on.” She pasted on an over-bright smile and motioned him on with her head.

  Once Timmy pulled her SUV away she headed into the clubhouse. She was nearly an hour late. For a brief moment, she considered calling Timmy back and sending her regards in with the cupcakes. But she wasn’t a coward.

  Marissa squared her shoulders and followed the laughter and music to the large banquet room off to the left of the clubhouse.

  A disco ball rotated in the center of the room as flashing lights strobed from the corners. Women were dressed in hot pants and tube tops while some of the men sported white suits with wide lapels and their shirts opened to their stomach.

  Marissa snorted before she could help herself.

  She spotted a table with food and hurried over to unload her wares. A couple of people meandered over and got cupcakes before she’d even gotten them all out of the boxes.

  “Marissa!”

  Marissa turned to find Callie bouncing over to her—bouncing was the only way she could describe the jiggle and dance Callie did, wearing tight black hot pants and epically high platform shoes. “What’s this?”

  “I brought some cupcakes.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “I know.” Marissa shrugged.

  “You look nice.”

  “I’m a little underdressed, I think.” A young woman bopped by with an afro and a barely-there dress.

  Callie waved her hand. “I only threw a themed party so Mother wouldn’t show up.” She winked. “Not everyone’s dressed up.” She pointed out several ladies wearing perfectly respectable slinky—modern—dresses.

  On the other side of the room, Marissa spotted Wes in a business suit. He looked like he’d just gotten off work. She did, also, recognize many faces as Callie had said. One she hadn’t seen, however. Jax was nowhere. Not that she cared. And if a little bubble of disappointment rolled through her stomach again, she’d tell herself it was indigestion or something.

  “Thank you for bringing the cupcakes, but you’re not here as a caterer. Mingle, relax. Have some champagne.” Callie waved over a waiter with a tray full of champagne glasses. She scooped up a glass and handed it to Marissa. “Oh, Katie’s here. Drink. Mingle. Go.” She gave Marissa one of her megawatt smiles and bounced off to greet her newest arrival.

  Marissa kept her smile in place until Callie had crossed out of her line of sight. As soon as Callie was far enough away, the smile slipped and a grimace took its place. Her hand throbbed.

  She downed the champagne and made her way to the back of the room, toward the kitchen.

  She hesitated for just a moment before she pushed through the door. As a teen working at the club, she’d been restricted from some areas. The kitchen and the dining area were the two biggest. Not that that had stopped her. She’d always sneaked into the main kitchen and sat and talked with Georgia Hines.

  When she pushed through the door, Georgia was the last person she expected to see—she’d been ancient back when Marissa was sixteen. It was a wonder that in a town the size of Oak Hollow she’d never run into the woman.

  “Georgia?” Marissa hurried over to the older woman wearing her typical white chef’s garb from head to toe. Her mane of silver hair was pulled back under a navy-blue bandanna. The only difference in all the years since Marissa had seen her was a few more lines on her face and the bright pink rubber clogs on her feet—in the past they’d always been thick-soled sneakers. For a brief moment, when the older woman turned around, Marissa worried Georgia might not remember her.

  “Marissa? My lovely Marissa, as I live and breathe…” Georgia’s attempt at Southern charm with her Boston accent never ceased to garner a smile. “How have you been, doll? I ran into your dad a couple of months back. He was bragging on you girls like crazy.” She spoke for several minutes, peppering Marissa with questions and recitation of the tales her daddy had shared, not giving Marissa a chance to respond. “What’s wrong, cat got y
our tongue?”

  Marissa laughed and swept the woman into a hug. “I have missed you.”

  “If you didn’t stay such a stranger… What brings you here tonight?”

  “Callie.”

  Georgia nodded. “That little girl has never met a stranger and every soul is her friend. Come sit and talk to me if you have a minute.” She walked back over to her cook station, dragging a stool along with her.

  When Marissa sat, Georgia handed her an itty-bitty burger. “Try one of these.”

  Marissa bit into the miniature burger and gave a quick little groan of appreciation. Even if it hadn’t been all day since she’d eaten, the burger would have been a perfect anecdote for what ailed her. “This is wonderful.”

  “Can you believe it’s vegan, gluten-free and all that frou-frou?”

  “Really?” Marissa popped the rest of the burger in her mouth.

  Georgia gave a quick smile. “It’s all the rage with the club members.” She arranged several more mini-burgers on the platter and called one of the waiters over to take it out. “So what made you come peeking in here to see me?”

  At the question, Marissa’s hand started to throb. “I was hoping to get an ice bucket or something.” She held it out. A dark blue bruise already covering her knuckles went almost all the way to her wrist. The swelling wasn’t as bad as the pain might have let on. “Had a little accident.”

  “Oh dear.” Georgia bustled around the kitchen and grabbed a small ice bucket and filled it. She brought it over to Marissa. “Lemme see.”

  When Marissa lifted her hand, Georgia carefully wrapped a dish towel around it before she told Marissa to dunk it into the ice.

  “Care to explain?”

  “It was my fault.”

  At Georgia’s expression—one that said, that’s what all women say—Marissa held up her other hand. “I stuck my hand in the car door as the valet shut it.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. “I was off in my own thoughts not paying attention.”