“Do you really think so?” Holly asked.
“Yes,” Tate mumbled through a mouthful.
“Absolutely,” Angie said.
Holly turned to Mel, who still had most of her cupcake on her plate. Mel knew that Holly was looking to her for a final say as if she were the mean guy on Cupcake Wars who could make or break her.
She sighed. She had to agree with the others. Holly was obviously more than capable of whipping together an amazing assortment of tasty cupcakes.
“She’s right,” Mel said. “You are truly gifted in the cupcake arts.”
Holly and Sydney squealed and hugged each other. Then they exchanged a complicated handshake that ended when they linked arms and did a very Vegas showgirl high kick. Mel couldn’t help chuckling. She’d never had an employee who could high kick before. She tried to picture either Marty or Oz busting out that move, and the image made her laugh out loud.
A cell phone began to ring and everyone checked their pockets. Angie was the winner as it was her phone. She checked the display and then glanced at Tate.
“It’s my brother Ray,” she said. “I’d better take this. You know how they worry.”
“Yes, we do, and we don’t want them showing up here to hold us prisoner while we’re in Sin City,” he said. “Talk him down.”
“I’ll do my best,” Angie promised. She wandered over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked a zero-edge pool and a view of the desert mountains beyond.
Mel sampled another cupcake. She was torn between the Snickerdoodle cupcake and the Elvis, a banana cake with peanut butter frosting, but finally settled on one of the vanilla ones with the Las Vegas sign on it. Good-tasting fondant was tricky for even the best pastry chefs. As she nibbled the marshmallow-flavored decoration, she had to admit that Holly had done an incredible job. It tasted just as good as anything that had ever come out of Mel’s kitchen. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“Excellent,” Angie said into the phone as she rejoined them. “I’ll tell everyone the news. Thanks, big brother.”
“Ray called with good news?” Tate asked. He looked dubious.
“He called with excellent news,” Angie said. “Ray knows a guy—”
“He always knows a guy,” Mel said. “You know how Joe feels about Ray’s guys.”
Ray DeLaura was the brother that flirted with the boundaries of the law the most, so naturally he was the one who gave Joe DeLaura, a county prosecutor, the most heartburn.
“I know, but this is good,” Angie said. “Ray knows a guy who has a storefront right off the Strip that he’s looking to lease. It was a sandwich shop, so it already has a full kitchen. Ray said the guy is willing to lease it for a song. Apparently, he owes Ray a favor.”
“Yes!” Tate cried. He raised his fist in the air.
“Oh, no,” Mel said. She shook her head. “No, no, no.”
Holly looked at them, her eyes darting back and forth between their faces. “Sorry, you lost me. With my future swinging in the balance, can you clarify if it’s a yes or a no?”
Eight
“No,” Mel said at the same time Tate said, “Yes.”
“Joe will go nuts,” Mel said.
“Why?” Angie protested. “This could be totally legit.”
“Since when has Ray ever done anything legit?” Mel asked.
“There’s always a first time,” Tate said.
Mel looked at Holly. “Angie’s brother Ray doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to staying within the proper legal margins.”
“But speaking of his record at the track,” Angie said. “He’s so good at picking horses, they have his picture up on the wall at Turf Paradise in Phoenix.”
“If he can apply his horse sense to my bakery, I’m good with that,” Holly said.
Mel looked at Sydney. Her big blue eyes looked concerned and Mel didn’t know if she understood the conversation as much as she understood the note of caution in Mel’s voice. She didn’t want to be responsible for the look of worry in the little girl’s eyes.
“Well, I suppose it’s worth checking out,” Mel said. “Who knows, maybe it will be the perfect spot.”
Sydney beamed at her, and Mel knew she had done the right thing. So what if Joe popped a gasket at the thought that his brother knew people in Las Vegas? Joe was wrapping up his case against Frank Tucci, the mobster, and if the news media was calling it right, it looked like it was going to go Joe’s way and Tucci would be doing time well into his golden years.
It occurred to her that if the place panned out, then the responsible thing to do would be to call Joe and tell him about it so he was fully informed. It would be nice to have an excuse to talk to Joe, even if he was worrying about Ray the entire time. Mel smiled as she bit into a chocolate cupcake. After the horror of yesterday, this day was beginning to look up.
Tate got onto the phone with the law firm Stuart Stinson worked for and they agreed to send another lawyer in his place to meet them at the new site.
Angie had already told Ray that they would meet his guy, so they all did a mad scramble to pack up the cupcakes in every available bit of Tupperware that Holly could find so they would keep while they were gone.
“Did you spend all night baking?” Mel asked as she pushed a lid down tight.
“Pretty much,” Holly said. “I was too upset to sleep. I just kept seeing Scott and Stuart in my head in a bad film loop that wouldn’t stop. I called the hospital this morning to find out how they are doing.”
“It’s not looking good for Scott,” Mel said.
“Yeah,” Holly said. “I feel awful, just awful.”
“I know what you mean,” Mel said. “I feel horrible about what happened and then I think that we could have been right there, too, and I feel guilty for feeling relieved that we weren’t.”
“Survivor’s guilt,” Holly said, and Mel nodded.
“I wish there was something we could do,” Mel said.
“Have they confirmed what caused the explosion?” Holly asked.
Tate joined them and stacked his tub on top of the others.
“I called the fire department this morning,” Tate said. “They are putting together a report, but the person I spoke to did confirm that it was caused by gas that had accumulated because the oven was on.”
“I don’t see how that could have happened,” Holly said.
They were all silent, mulling over the randomness of it all. Then Mel frowned. On their way to look at the property, Scott had said that someone had looked at it earlier that day. At the time, Mel had thought it was a typical high-pressure sales tactic, but now she wasn’t so sure.
“Where should we store all of these?” Angie asked.
“Right around the corner is a second walk-in refrigerator,” Holly said.
“I meant to tell you before, this is a dream kitchen,” Mel said. “You have two refrigerators, two professional-grade ovens, three dishwashers, never mind the rest of the house, this room alone is worth whatever it cost to build.”
Holly gave her a wry look. “I’m not sure it’s worth the price I paid, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Let’s get going and see this new location.”
“Do I get to come, too?” Sydney asked. “Please, please, please.”
“All right, all right,” Holly agreed with a laugh. “Let me call your dad. He’s supposed to pick you up soon, but maybe he’ll be okay if I drop you off after we see the bakery.”
Holly took her cell phone into the other room, and Sydney watched her go with a look that was so nervously expectant that Mel hoped Sydney’s father agreed to the plan for the little girl’s sake.
“So, Sydney,” Mel said, trying to distract her. “What is your favorite flavor of cupcake?”
“That depends,” Sydney said. “On happy days, it’s lemon because lemon
is the color of happiness.”
“Is it now?” Mel asked. It was official. She was thoroughly charmed by this girl. “What about sad days?”
“That’s easy. Sad days are chocolate days, because everything is always better with chocolate.”
“So true. Okay, what about boring days?”
“Doesn’t matter what flavor when you’re bored. Just put some sprinkles on it and then—pow—no more boring.”
Tate, who’d been listening, leaned down so that he was eye level with the young girl. “Sydney, my dear, you are brilliant.”
“I know.” She looked back at him without pride or guile, just a complete sense of herself and her place in the world. “My mom taught me most of that so she’s pretty smart, too.”
“Agreed,” Tate said.
“Are you excited for your mom to open a bakery?” Angie asked. She had just put the last of the containers in the walk-in and was washing her hands at one of the two sinks.
“Yes!” Sydney shouted. “I get to pick the flavor of the day, every day.”
“Whoa, that’s an important job,” Tate said.
“That’s what Mom said, but she still won’t let me leave school to work in the bakery.” Sydney frowned. “It’s not fair.”
“Sydney, we talked about this,” Holly said as she came back into the room. “Your job is to go to school.”
“Kindergarten is for babies,” Sydney protested.
Holly rolled her eyes and Mel had the feeling this was an argument they had had before.
“All set to go?” Mel asked.
“Yes,” Holly said. She looked at Sydney. “And you get to come with us but you must be on your best behavior. This isn’t our bakery . . . yet.”
“I promise,” Sydney said.
They took separate cars to the location. Ray’s friend the Realtor was to meet them, as well as Peter Kelly, a man from Stuart Stinson’s law office, who would take over the franchise paperwork for Stuart while he was in the hospital.
Mel felt guilty for moving ahead with the franchise plan without Stuart and Scott, but Tate, who was the most corporate minded of them all, assured her that it was okay.
“Stuart is a man of business. He would expect nothing less than for us to move forward,” he said.
Both Mel and Angie gave him doubtful looks then Angie turned to Mel and asked, “Do you think that’s a corporate thing or a guy thing?”
“Guy thing,” Mel said. “Definitely.”
They were driving out of the neighborhood and Mel waved to the man at the gate as they went. Holly was right behind them in a sporty little sedan with Sydney in her booster seat in the back.
“What do you mean by ‘a corporate thing or a guy thing’?” Tate asked.
“That ability to compartmentalize,” Angie said. “Is it a guy thing or a business thing? Would a female executive shrug and say ‘Let’s move forward, it’s just business, nothing personal’?”
“Absolutely,” Tate said. “In fact, a few of the women I’ve worked with were even better at separating the personal from the business and managed to make some really tough decisions, ones I don’t think I could have made if I were in their shoes. So, it’s definitely a corporate thing.”
“Interesting,” Mel said. “See? This is why I went into baking. The corporate dog-eat-dog world is most def not for me.”
“And it was going so well until Tate decided to franchise you, making you corporate by default,” Angie teased.
“I know I’ve been reluctant,” Mel admitted.
“Reluctant?” Tate asked. “You had your heels dug in so deep, you left drag marks all the way from Phoenix.”
“Whatever. I’ve come around to the idea, plus I like Holly. She can bake, and I like that we’re giving a single mom a real chance to have a normal life that she’s in control of,” Mel said. “This is going to be great. I can feel it.”
“Okay, who are you and what have you done with our friend Mel?” Tate asked, giving her a suspicious look.
Mel and Angie both laughed, and then Mel began to sing, “‘Bright light city gonna set my soul, gonna set my soul on fire.’”
When it came time for the chorus, Angie and Tate did not hesitate to join in, singing, “Viva Las Vegas!”
It wasn’t a long drive to the Strip where they were meeting the lawyer and the Realtor. Mel was curious to see what sort of person Ray had them meeting and she couldn’t help wondering if Joe would approve. She doubted it.
Knowing Ray, it was going to be a thuggish sort of guy with slicked-back thinning hair, a shiny suit and dress shirt open at the collar, so the sun could shine on his thick gold chain. Mel even figured his name would be something short and blunt like Dave or Nick. For sure, it would be interesting.
Mel found a spot in the narrow parking lot of the small shopping center where the vacant shop was located. Holly pulled in behind her and they all walked over toward the glass front store on the end.
Two men in suits were standing in front of the shop. FOR LEASE signs were hanging in every window. It was a snug space but it was on the end of the row of shops, giving it optimal visibility from the street and extra parking along the side.
Mel checked to see if there was another food joint in the cluster of shops. There was not, which was another plus. Instead, there was a karate school, a hair salon, a photographer’s studio, and a pet groomer. All in all it seemed like a low-crime, family-friendly cluster of shops within walking distance to some of the Strip’s biggest tourist attractions.
The two men standing in front of the vacant store both wore charcoal gray suits, white dress shirts, and snappy ties. As she got closer, Mel tried to guess which one could be Ray’s friend. Surprisingly, thug didn’t really come off either of the men, making it harder to hazard a guess.
The man on the right had a head of silver hair. An Omega watch was strapped to his left wrist and he had on cuff links. Mel figured he had to be the lawyer, plus he looked like a no-nonsense sort of guy, which did not match Ray, who was generally full of shenanigans at all times.
She glanced at the other man. He was younger with dark hair, but his suit looked to be just as expensive and so did his tie. He had on a Rolex but no cuff links. She guessed him for the Realtor, especially since his fingernails looked to be buffed into better shape than hers.
Tate led the way, looking casually official in his blue jeans and dress shirt. He held out his hand to the younger, dark-haired man. “Pete Kelly? I’m Tate Harper.”
Mel exchanged a surprised glance with Angie.
“I had that figured all wrong,” Angie said.
“Me, too,” Mel said. “How did Tate know which one was Peter?”
“Must be some secret corporate eyebrow twitch or something,” Angie said.
“Or I saw his picture on the website when I looked up the firm to get his phone number,” Tate said as he turned around. He gave them an exasperated look that said everyone could hear them.
Mel and Angie exchanged a sheepish glance, and Holly, who had joined them, laughed.
“I had it backward, too,” she said.
“I’m Quentin Ross,” the silver-haired man said. He had a crisp and precise way of speaking that made Mel suspect he used to have a thick accent of some sort but had studied to lose it.
Tate shook his hand and then Mel and Angie did the same, with Holly and Sydney being introduced next.
“Tell me, Quentin,” Angie said. “How exactly do you know my brother Ray?”
Quentin pursed his lips. He looked as if he was trying to think of what Ray might have told Angie. In the end, he shrugged and said, “I can’t really say.”
Angie’s eyebrows went up. Clearly, he had underestimated Ray’s little sister.
“You can’t say or you won’t say?” she asked.
“Won’t,” Quentin said.
“Why not?” Angie rose up on her tiptoes as she tried to stare down the much taller man.
He leaned down so that they were nose to nose. “None of your business. Ask your brother, if you must know.”
“Oh, I will,” Angie promised.
It was clearly a standoff. Mel wondered if she was the only one who heard the high noon music in her head. All they needed was a tumbleweed to roll by and for Angie and Quentin to start walking in two different directions for a set number of paces. Uh-oh.
Nine
“How about we go inside?” Holly asked. “You know, check out the shop as a possible bakery?”
“Yes, let’s do that,” Peter agreed. “You have the keys, Mr. Ross?”
When Quentin didn’t move, Peter gave him a nudge with his elbow. Without taking his eyes off Angie, Quentin took his keys from his pocket. He gave her one more second of his flat, dead-eyed stare before he turned away.
He unlocked the door and pulled it open. Mel didn’t think she was imagining the fact that no one seemed to want to go first. She shook her head. Just because the other bakery blew up did not mean this one was going the same way.
She stepped forward at the same time that Tate did. She gestured for him to let her go first but he shook her off. Mel went to cut in front of him just to keep him safe; not that she believed he needed a blocker it was just instinct. Tate grabbed her arm, holding her back.
“Together?” he asked.
Mel realized she could live with that. She nodded and they stepped through the wide doorway together, with Angie wedging herself right in between them as they went. The three of them stepped over the threshold and nothing happened.
A powerful surge of relief ran through her, and Mel realized she’d actually been holding her breath as if there would be another explosion. She wondered if she had a little bit of post trauma still rocking her world. She glanced back at Holly and saw her holding Sydney’s hand, looking as relieved as Mel felt.
Vanilla Beaned Page 6