by Ivy Sinclair
“You hardly ever do stories like this anymore. This is a fluff story for a fluff holiday that I am pretty sure that you, being a guy, probably doesn’t even care about. Why are you really here?”
“So you read my stuff.” Brian said, clearly trying to change the subject. He seemed perplexed.
“Everyone reads your stuff,” Belle said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve been writing that kind of hard hitting investigative kind of stuff probably trying to win some kind of fancy journalistic prize. You won’t be winning any of those writing about cupcakes, by the way.”
She had his attention, but not in a good way. He was frowning. That couldn’t be a good thing.
“You know what? I actually need to go. I forgot I have another appointment. If you don’t mind, I’ll just take this with me,” Brian said. He took the plate and stood.
“That’s my friend’s plate,” Belle sputtered. She realized that she had probably crossed a line. Insulting the person writing a story about her was a stupid move. She couldn’t let him leave on that note.
“I’ll return it.” Brian was already moving toward the front door before she could say anything else.
She followed him into the foyer. He threw his jacket over his arm and strode out the door. Belle didn’t know what to say to stop him.
“Thanks again for meeting with me. I’ll let you know when the paper is running the story,” he said over his shoulder
Belle was left standing there with her mouth open. She had a feeling that story wasn’t going to be very flattering.
Brian couldn’t wait to get home. Usually he was the consummate professional, but there was something about Belle Morgan and her strange little cupcake story that threw him for a loop. Add in the fact that she was right, he had been trying to get away from the fluff human-interest stories for the last six months, put him decidedly out of sorts.
For all of her self-deprecating remarks, Belle moved around the kitchen with ease. Her storytelling never stopped or wavered as she mixed the ingredients or deftly decorated the feast for the eyes that sat on the seat next to him. It was readily apparent to him that Belle wasn’t giving herself enough credit for her creation.
As soon as he published the story, Belle was going to be inundated with requests for her cupcake. He was giving her the chance to do what it sounded like she always wanted to do. That made him feel good in a strange kind of way. There was something endearing about Belle that made him want to help her.
He pulled into the garage of his condo building and parked the car. Then he picked his camera up and started shuffling through the pictures he had taken that evening. Belle’s fresh-faced innocence gleamed through every one. Her tiny, yet voluptuous figure made him think that is what a pixie would look like if those creatures were real. He imagined that Belle was a pixie on a mission of love.
Potential headlines ran through his mind. His fingers twitched to get to the computer keyboard and start framing up Belle’s story. He eyed the cupcake on the seat. It was beautiful, and he imagined it tasted even better than it looked. Carefully balancing the plate in one hand and his bag in the other, Brian made his way to the elevator.
As the elevator doors opened into the foyer of his warehouse loft condo, Brian’s nose detected the fragrant smell of garlic and oregano. Confused, he made his way deeper into the condo and discovered Jessica Shelby moving around his kitchen.
“Jessica? What are you doing here?” Considering he broke up with Jessica a week ago, her presence in his condo was not a welcome sight. He cursed himself for forgetting to get his keys back.
“I heard from Bill that you were on deadline, and I know that means that you usually forget to eat. So I wanted to help,” she said. She cocked her head at the pan on the stove. “I grilled up a few chicken breasts and was just getting ready to sauté some asparagus.”
Brian wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t want to throw her out. That was the unfortunate thing about dating people you work with. When the relationship ends, there was a period of time where boundaries needed to be re-established. Apparently he had some further work to do on that with Jessica.
“I appreciate it, Jess, but I don’t want there to be any confusion here. I’m not going to change my mind about us.” Then he noticed that Jessica’s attention wasn’t on his face, but on the plate in his hand. She was looking at the cupcake.
“So that’s the infamous cupcake, huh?” she said with a raised eyebrow. “I still can’t believe you took that story.”
“Jess, please stop trying to change the subject.” Brian put his bag and the plate down on the counter and rubbed his face.
“Brian, I’m a big girl. I understand what happens when a guy dumps me. But we were friends before all of that started, and I told you that I wanted to still keep that part of our relationship.”
She sounded logical and mature. Neither of those words were ones that Brian would put in a top ten list of Jessica’s personality attributes. He still questioned why he let the relationship go on as long as it did. Past experience told him that he wasn’t going to be able to get rid of her until he ate, and his stomach was grumbling. He poured a glass of wine and slouched into a seat next to the island. Then he pulled out his laptop and powered it up.
He decided the best course of action was deflection. The sooner they ate, the sooner she’d leave. Hopefully he could escape without the theatrics that accompanied their break-up conversation the week before. “I’m on deadline. I have to get moving on this story,” he said.
Jessica smiled. “Sure. Whatever you need to do.”
After tossing the asparagus in the pan, she flounced over to his stereo and turned on a classic jazz station, his favorite while he was writing. Brian closed his eyes for a moment and tried to focus on the story. Then his fingers moved on their own accord.
She may not have realized it, but Belle was a natural storyteller. As he played back her descriptions of her weekends with her grandmother, and the details of the break-up that lead to her unique creation, he could see them all vividly in his mind. With images like that, the words flew down onto the page. Within moments, he forgot about Jessica and immersed himself in describing the evolution of Cupid’s Cupcake.
As he wrote, other questions flitted through his thoughts that had nothing to do with the story. He wondered about the place where Belle grew up and what she had been like as a teenager. He wondered about her first kiss and her first boyfriend. How had those experiences affected her perception of love and romance? Was there something else that happened to her in her life that colored her desire to create something tied to closely to the most romantic day of the year?
Then another thought blossomed in his mind. He hadn’t noticed a ring on her finger, and she never mentioned a boyfriend. Was she single?
Brian’s fingers broke from the keyboard on that last question. Why did he care if she was single? The answer was simple and complicated at the same time. His time with Belle Rivers piqued not only his curiosity, but also his own interest in her as more than a story. But coming off a yearlong relationship wasn’t the best time to be thinking about jumping into the dating pool again.
As if to prove his point, a plate of food slid next to his elbow and Jessica settled onto the stool next to him. Her burgundy t-shirt molded to her ample breasts, and when she leaned over, he was given quite a view from the plunging neckline. He had no doubt she was accentuating her best assets as a not-so-subtle reminder of what he was missing.
“Thanks,” he said, deliberately turning his attention to the food.
“So, is that chick crazy or what?” Jessica asked.
“Pardon?”
“The cupcake chick. I looked her up online. She looked like some kind of spinster.”
Brian wondered why in the world Jessica was suddenly so interested in his story or in Belle. When a possible answer exploded in his mind, he wanted to kick himself for being so stupid not to realize it before. When he cut a glance at her, he could see that she was picking a
t her plate, but she was staring at the one that he set down across the island.
The reason he broke things off with her was because she had started getting more insistent about moving their relationship to the “next level”, something that Brian had no intention of doing with her. But when Jessica got something in her mind, she didn’t let it go easily, and she had decided that it was high time that Brian proposed. Bill had been the one who had assigned the story on Cupid’s Cupcake to him in their weekly staff meeting. The same Bill who worshiped the ground that Jessica walked on.
“Not a spinster,” he said carefully. “But who would believe in any of that kind of nonsense anyway?”
“Yea, it’s silly, isn’t it?” Her voice was wistful.
Brian had to get her out of his condo as quickly as possible. His appetite had disappeared the moment he realized that he was being set-up. “You know, Jess, I have to get up early in the morning. I’m going to finish this draft up and then hit the sack. Don’t worry about cleaning any of this up. You can go ahead and head home.”
“Well, the least you can do is offer me dessert,” she said, pushing her lower lip out in a pout. When they first started dating, Brian hadn’t been able to resist that pout. Now it just got on his nerves.
Brian scrambled for a response. There was a nagging voice in the back of his head that said he was being a complete idiot for feeding into the idea that any of the myth around Belle’s cupcake was real. But on some crazy, strange, otherworldly chance it was true, he wasn’t going to touch that cupcake with Jessica in the immediate vicinity.
“Actually, this dinner was so great that I’m just stuffed.” Brian hurried to shove the last few bites on his plate into his mouth and then he sat back in his chair patting his stomach. “I’m skipping dessert tonight.”
A look of outrage crossed her face. “Are you serious? I come over here, slaved over a hot oven for you, gave you your space so you can do your work, and then you kick me out like I’m some kind of hired help? I deserve better than that, and you know it. We’ve been together for a year, Brian!”
“We’re not together anymore,” he said quietly. “I think it’s time for you to go before you say something you’ll regret later, Jess.”
“Fine!” she screeched. “You are going to regret this, Brian Draper! I was the best thing that ever happened to you. Enjoy your cupcake and your Valentine’s Day alone.” She grabbed her purse with a huff and stomped out toward the elevator, which fortunately came seconds later.
Brian counted himself lucky that she hadn’t done any further damage. He looked mournfully over at the wall beside the television set. There was a large dent about halfway up the wall from the time that Jessica threw a book at him and missed. She had a temper.
Trying to forget the last thirty minutes, Brian returned to his story. A quick read through satisfied him that he was on the right track. He looked at the cupcake again. Feeling silly, he reached over and pulled the plate toward him. He studied it. It looked like an utterly innocent, normal cupcake.
His fork encountered barely any resistance as it slid down the middle of it and he scooped out a small bite. The inside had the color of a red velvet cake, but he remembered Belle saying something about a chocolate infusion as part of her modifications. Pushing any other thoughts away, he took the bite into his mouth.
Chocolate, raspberry, and another citrusy taste that he couldn’t quite place exploded in his mouth. Combined with the light and airy buttercream icing, it was like a bite of pure sugary bliss. His eyes widened as his taste buds further processed the rich texture and the flavors deepened. It was the most delicious bite of dessert he could ever remember having in his life.
He put down his fork, even though every part of his body screamed for more. He pushed the plate away. That bite was all he needed to finish the story. But now he had even more questions.
Brian decided that he would need to speak to Belle Rivers again.
Three weeks flew by in the blink of an eye, and then Belle found herself on the eve of Valentine’s Day staring at the largest stack of orders that she had ever seen. Since Brian Draper’s article ran the week before, Belle’s email box blew up, and her phone hadn’t stopped ringing with people asking how they could get their hands on the Cupid’s Cupcake for Valentine’s Day.
For once, Belle followed one of Tiffany’s lists to the letter. She had a basic website set-up that included an order form. She capped the number of cupcakes that she would offer and put a limit on the number of cupcakes that could be ordered. She arranged all the shipping and delivery details so that the cupcakes would arrive on time. It was a good thing she did because she sold out in less than twenty-four hours, and had a waiting list already for next Valentine’s Day that was growing by the minute.
“Can you believe this?” Belle said as she looked around Tiffany’s kitchen in chagrin. The place was a total disaster, a far cry from her friend’s usual perfectly ordered room. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to do this here next year.”
“That’s why you’ll have your very own store next year, with your very own kitchen, and your very own space,” Tiffany said.
Belle picked up on the undercurrent of her friend’s words and went over to her and gave her a hug. “Have I told you how much I appreciate you letting me borrow your kitchen?”
“Belle! You’re getting flour all over me,” Tiffany said, pushing her away. But Belle saw the small grin of pleasure on Tiffany’s face.
The doorbell ringing barely registered in her mind. Belle surveyed the room calculating everything that still needed to be done in the next few hours to ensure that every cupcake made it out the door and on its way safely to its final destination. So Belle’s mouth dropped open when she found herself looking up into Brian Draper’s blue eyes a few moments later.
“Hey,” she said.
“Bet you’re surprised to see me,” he said. He held up Tiffany’s plate. “I told you that I’d return it.”
“You didn’t come all this way to return a plate,” Belle said. She was still trying to process how Brian was there. After the abrupt end to her interview, she was sure that the article he would write would be less than positive. So when it was published, and it was positively glowing, no one had been more surprised than Belle.
“Maybe I’m looking to do a follow-up story. It looks like your operation is busting at the seams here.” He looked over her shoulder and Belle wanted to sink through the floor. She was certain that more than half of her body was covered in flour, and her hair was a mess.
“I guess I should be saying thanks,” she said, trying not to reach up and smooth her hair. She gestured at the boxes stacked against the far wall in the adjoining dining room. “With the buzz from your article, I got enough orders that I’m going to have enough money to invest in a permanent space to open up my own shop.”
“Congratulations,” he said. “Your friend Tiffany was nice enough to send me an email and mention that you could probably use an extra pair of hands tonight. Since I helped create this lovely chaos, she thought that I should come help and get a first hand view of the action.”
Her brain short-circuited. Brian Draper wanted to help her make cupcakes? She glared at Tiffany, who was making a big show out of moving a rack of cupcakes to the other room. “The more the merrier,” she said faintly.
“Great!” Brian shrugged off his coat and clapped his hands together. “Tell me what to do.”
Belle directed Brian to the dining room table to help Tom with the shipping labels. The journalist was a serious distraction that she didn’t need at the moment, but at the same time, she was intrigued that his presence. Then the oven timers started to ding, and Belle didn’t have time to think about it any longer. She had to get back to her cupcakes.
Brian watched Belle move around the kitchen with the grace of a ballerina. He had no idea why she talked about being clumsy or disorganized, she directed her small crew like a military dictator. She was in her element.
“How do you know Belle?” Brian asked. He had only been able to uncover details like where she went to school, what she majored in, where she worked now, and where she lived in his own investigative research. He wanted to know more about her and what she liked, what she didn’t like, and what she did in her free time. Belle was still an enigma to him.
“Met her in college. She roomed with Tiffany their sophomore year. I was always a little surprised that they hit it off the way they did,” Tom said. He pointed at the label in front of Brian. “You better start at least looking like you are working, or else Belle will come over here and thump you on the head. I’m speaking from personal experience.”
Brian obliged, dutifully copying the address from a printed order form onto a label. “Why were you surprised?” On one hand, he was making conversation, but on the other, his natural investigative querying wanted to take over.
“They are total opposites in so many ways. Plus, Belle’s always been a little more reserved. She wasn’t into partying the way we were back then. She got good grades and stayed out of trouble.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Brian said.
“Yea, but those kinds of girls don’t attract a guy’s attention,” Tom said. He leaned toward Brian. “So when a loser like Danny Pickens comes along, she thinks she’s struck gold, when really, she just got saddled with a tub of horseshit.”
Brian glanced over at Belle. She was entirely absorbed in cupcake decoration. She was concentrating so hard that the tip of her tongue stuck out of her mouth, but she didn’t seem to notice. Paired with the dusting of flour across the left side of her face, she looked utterly adorable.