The Bachelor Baker

Home > Romance > The Bachelor Baker > Page 6
The Bachelor Baker Page 6

by Carolyne Aarsen


  Her unwillingness to discuss the letter made Melissa wonder if she was the one who wrote it. Very curious.

  The talk moved from who the benefactor could be to discussing ideas for expanding their business and their struggles with gaining trust and acceptance from the other members of the town. The meeting went on for another few minutes but then wound down. Melissa was about to ask Lily if she wanted another coffee when her friend suddenly shot a look at her watch.

  “Sorry,” she said to Melissa. “I have to run. Isabella wanted me to read her a bedtime story tonight.”

  Melissa nodded, feeling a nudge of self-pity as she watched Lily leave, her eyes shining with expectation. Lily looked so happy.

  When Lily first came to Bygones, Tate Bronson had been the one to pick her up from the airport and bring her to the town. When Lily met Tate’s seven-year-old daughter, Isabella, the two of them had immediately connected. But Tate’s grief over the loss of his wife had created a distance between him and Lily. However, Lily’s sweetness and kindness had breached that gulf.

  Every time Melissa saw Lily and Tate together, she wondered if she would ever find that kind of love.

  She thought she had found it with Jason but knew the relationship to be a hollow version of what she was looking for. She wanted someone who would put her first.

  Melissa felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Miss Coraline standing in front of her, her handbag tucked over one arm. “What did you think of the meeting?” she asked.

  Melissa gave a noncommittal shrug. “I think it went well.”

  “Some of the shopkeepers have some interesting ideas to bring in other business.” Coraline gave Melissa an encouraging smile, as if hoping that in a one-on-one situation, Melissa might be willing to share her own ideas.

  “Sorry I couldn’t contribute,” Melissa said with an apologetic smile. “I know I’m no less of an outsider than the other business owners, but I’m not sure where to start with bringing in other business other than the couple of contacts I’ve created with hotels in Junction City.”

  “Of course, my dear. It’s hard enough just keeping your business going without thinking of all the other things required by the committee.” Coraline touched her lower lip, frowning slightly, as if dredging up her own ideas. “You might want to talk to Brian. Maybe he might have some suggestions.”

  Melissa almost choked on her coffee. “Brian is the most taciturn employee I’ve seen,” she sputtered. “I can’t imagine he wants to talk with me about the bakery.”

  “Brian may not have chosen the job he’s been given,” Coraline said, the faint note of reprimand in her voice making Melissa feel guilty, “but he’s a good person underneath all that gruffness and bluster. Maybe if you ask him, you might get him more invested in the business. Might give him a sense that he’s needed.”

  Melissa’s only reply was a light nod, trying to imagine what, if anything, Brian could bring to the business and whether he cared or not. “I’ll think on that” was all she could say.

  “That’s all I ask you to do.”

  Melissa gathered her purse and coffee and nodded at Patrick. A sudden pain shot through her head. She groaned as she pushed open the door of Josh’s coffee shop, stepping into the warm evening air.

  She hoped she wasn’t coming down with a migraine. She didn’t get them often, but when she did, she was almost incapacitated.

  As she was walking past the Dill’s store, The Everything, she paused, as she always did, by the community billboard. Papers flapped in the evening breeze announcing items for sale from people moving out of town. The number of pieces of furniture, appliances, children’s toys and bicycles still for sale was depressing. A précis of the still-ongoing exodus of people from Bygones, Melissa thought, skimming over the ads.

  A bright yellow paper with black writing caught her eye. She hadn’t seen it yesterday and, curious, she began reading.

  Need mechanic work done? Can do trucks, cars, motorcycles and some large equipment. Call for quotes. Brian Montclair.

  Melissa was surprised at the displeasure the notice gave her. It was sort of like someone applying for a job while still working for you. As if she wasn’t paying enough.

  She stifled her annoyance as she turned and strode down the cracked sidewalk, past The Everything and cutting across Bronson Street by the school. What Brian did in his spare time was none of her business. Of course he could run a mechanic business on the side. It shouldn’t matter to her. She knew Brian only took the job at the bakery because he had to and because nothing else was available.

  As long as he showed up every day, ready to work at her bakery, she shouldn’t care what else he did when he wasn’t working for her.

  But deep down she did.

  Chapter Five

  “Anything you need me to do?” Brian stood in the back of the bakery watching as Melissa dropped a large rectangular slab of cake on the counter in front of her.

  Melissa shook her head. “Bread went out this morning to the store and the next thing would be this cake. Why?”

  “I don’t want to leave for lunch until Amanda comes and I’m done with all my other work.” The bread was sliced, the floor around it was cleaned up and the display cases shone. The walk-in freezer was organized as was the refrigerator.

  “I’m okay...” Melissa hesitated as she clung to the edge of the table.

  “You’re crazy busy is what you are and you hired me to help. Let me help.”

  Melissa shot him a wry look. “I need icing made.”

  He frowned. “I don’t know how to do that.”

  “Then I guess, unless you’re willing do girlie baking stuff and make icing, there’s not much else I can get you to do.”

  Brian felt his back stiffen. He knew how his comment of the other day sounded and how his current reluctance looked, but he also knew Melissa prided herself on perfection. Amanda often grumbled about Melissa not letting her do much hands-on work, and he didn’t want to mess things up.

  At the same time, he felt as if she was issuing him a challenge. “I’m supposed to be some kind of assistant. If you don’t mind how it turns out, I’ll make your frosting,” he returned.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you exactly what to do,” she said.

  “Don’t you always,” he muttered.

  “That is part of my job,” she said, dropping her hand on her hip in a challenging gesture. “I am your boss, after all.”

  “Yeah. I got that.” As soon as the grumble left his lips he regretted, again, what he’d said.

  It was their situation, he told himself. He had been a boss in charge of guys. He didn’t like having the situation switched on him like this. Like an itch he couldn’t scratch, the fact that he was the bottom of the totem pole in this bakery, the fact that Melissa was his boss, was a constant reminder of how far he had fallen. And how far he had fallen from his dream of being his own boss and having his own family.

  How could he support anyone on what he made?

  The Lord opposes the proud, but shows favor to the humble.

  The quote from James echoed in his mind, reminding him of what he needed to do, and he eased out a light sigh.

  “So what do I start with?” he said.

  “Ten pounds of shortening and ten pounds of butter in the mixer,” she said. “The paddle is already on the mixer so just cream it once you’ve got the butter and shortening in it.”

  “Got it.”

  When Brian came back from the cooler with the butter, he saw Melissa leaning over on the counter, her head down.

  “You okay?” he asked. “You don’t look good.”

  “Just what every woman needs to hear.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “I just have a headache,” she said as she walked over to the magneti
c strip holding an array of knives and spatulas.

  Her snippy tone grated on him. He was showing her concern. Guess she didn’t want any from him.

  “Okay, Miss City Slicker,” he conceded, dumping the shortening and butter into the large stainless steel mixing bowl. He looked for the power button and turned it on.

  He knew he pushed her buttons with his City Slicker comment, but the past couple of days he couldn’t stop thinking about her and didn’t like that feeling.

  Like he had told his friend Anita when she visited the bakery, Melissa was nothing like Tracy, his former girlfriend. Melissa was a hard worker. She was here well before he arrived every morning and often stayed past closing time. The guys who used to work for him at the factory could take notes from her on work ethic and dedication.

  But Brian knew who he was. Her employee. Nothing more. Just like she had reminded him a few moments ago.

  The buzzer rang announcing a customer so he washed his hands, skirted the mixer and walked to the front of the store. He couldn’t help a quick glance Melissa’s way. She was slicing the cakes into two slabs with a large, thin knife but her face was the color of the cake she was working with.

  She didn’t look good, but since he had started working for Melissa, one thing he had found out loud and clear was that she didn’t like being fussed over or having undue attention drawn to herself. So he said nothing and went to the front to attend to the customers.

  When he came back, Amanda had finally arrived and was dumping some yellow stuff into the mixer holding the frosting, Melissa calling out instructions.

  Guess Melissa didn’t need his help after all. He glanced at the clock. 12:30. Now that Amanda was here he could take his break.

  “I’m going for lunch,” Brian said, yanking off his apron and hanging it on the hook at the back of the store. As he pulled his sandwiches out of the fridge, he turned to see Melissa draw in a long breath, lifting her shoulder to swipe at a bead of sweat slipping down the side of her flushed face.

  “You look like you could take a break, too,” he said, concerned at how she looked.

  Melissa shook her head. “Mrs. Morgan is coming at 2:00 to do some sampling.”

  “Amanda can cover everything here.”

  “Not really. I need to get this cake iced and then start up on another batch of pies.”

  Brian was about to tell her to get Amanda to help her but then the buzzer sounded. He reached for his apron but Amanda held her hand up to stop him. “I’ll take care of the customers.”

  Guess he wasn’t needed here. So he headed out the back door to Bronson Park to have his lunch in the warm summer sunshine.

  All by himself. Just the way he liked it.

  * * *

  “Someone here to see you,” Amanda called out, walking into the back of the bakery.

  “Who is it?” Melissa finished the last of the roses she was piping on the first layer of the cake and blinked. Everything was blurry. What was wrong with her eyes?

  “Dale Eversleigh from the funeral home,” Amanda said with a grin, her blue eyes flashing with fun. “You’re not that sick, are you?”

  “I’m not sick.” Melissa’s denial was negated by a sharp pain slicing through her head. “Tell him I’ll be right out.”

  Mr. Eversleigh stood in the front of the bakery, twisting his hands around each other, his blond toupee looking even more artificial under the lights of the bakery. Today his outfit was more subdued, his gray suit a change from the garish plaid coats and brightly colored pants he seemed to prefer when he wasn’t working. Melissa guessed he must have come here directly from the funeral home.

  “Can I help you, Mr. Eversleigh?” she asked.

  “I’m here to help you,” Dale said, giving her a bright, overly friendly smile that, she suspected, he had perfected over many years of working at the funeral home. “And you can call me Dale. I had some free time and thought I would stop in to see how you are doing.”

  Why was everyone so concerned about her health? “I’m fine. Just fine, thanks. All this fresh, small-town air.”

  Even as she spoke the words her conscience and the headache dogging her all morning accused her. She wasn’t fine. Her head pounded and she felt as if she was walking in a fog. She was surprised Brian had noticed and was as surprised at the faint note of concern she’d heard in his voice.

  “Actually, you misunderstood,” he said, his ingratiating smile deepening, his gold tooth winking back at her. “I’m a member of the SOS Committee that set up the funding for your business. I was hoping to spend a few moments chatting about the business. Wondering if you needed any tips, business help, that sort of thing.” His smile deepened and Melissa couldn’t help but remember how Lily had warned her about Dale ‘‘hitting’’ on her.

  But meeting with her SOS contact was part of the loan requirements so, ignoring her increasingly pounding head and her second thoughts about spending too much time alone with Dale, she smiled and nodded in agreement. “Of course. Would you like to go to the coffee shop across the street?”

  Dale shook his head. “It’s far too busy there and I spend enough time indoors. If you don’t mind, could we go to the park?”

  She wanted to resist, guessing that Brian was probably having his lunch in the park, but she didn’t have the strength or will to change the plans.

  “Would you like to have something from the bakery for lunch?” she offered.

  He shook his head and added another excessively friendly smile. “No. I’m trying to watch my weight,” he said, patting his rounded stomach. “You go ahead.”

  “I ate already,” she said. Half a muffin at about ten o’clock, but she didn’t feel like discussing her eating habits with Dale.

  Her stomach had felt queasy all morning, and after the muffin she didn’t want to risk eating and feeling worse. “We may as well go out through the back of the bakery to the park. That way I can show you the bakery equipment as we go.”

  “Sounds good,” he said.

  As they walked through the back Melissa pointed out the work station, bread proofer, oven and storage rooms, unable to keep the pride out of her voice. Dale nodded with each explanation but Melissa saw by his vague smile and quick glances that he was simply humoring her. Maybe if there was a dead body in the freezer he might be interested.

  As they stepped out the back door, the bright sun almost blinded Melissa. As usual she had been awake before the sun came up and working inside ever since. It wasn’t often she stepped outside during the day.

  Some kind of life you chose for yourself, girl.

  She brushed the cynical thought aside, reminding herself that she owned her own business. This was something she had dreamed of from the first moment she applied for her baking classes at the community college.

  She and Mr. Eversleigh walked across the street, the heat of the sun beating down from the sky and rising from the black pavement. The green grass and shady trees of Bronson Park beckoned like an oasis.

  They walked along a path through the tall trees toward the picnic benches. Children’s laughter echoed from the park beyond the gazebo.

  Lily, who must have been on a break from her flower shop next door, got up from a park bench and waved Melissa over, her fingers fluttering like the petals of a flower. “Are you finally taking a break?” she teased, shaking crumbs from her lacy pink dress. “I haven’t seen you for so long.”

  “Business is picking up, so I’ve been working more.”

  “How lovely to see you, Lily,” Dale said, his grin flicking from Melissa to Lily. “I hope you’ve been satisfied with the business I’ve managed to acquire for you.”

  “Quite pleased, though I’m sad for the reason,” Lily said, turning to Melissa and giving her the barest of winks. “We’ll have to book some time for coffee and a long gossip instea
d of the bits and pieces of conversation we’ve tossed each other on the fly.”

  “How are Tate and Isabella?” Melissa asked.

  Lily gave Melissa a coy smile, her cornflower-blue eyes shining behind her glasses. “Tate is talking about adding onto the house at the ranch,” she said with a sweet giggle. “Isabella has already chosen what she wants to wear as flower girl.”

  Melissa felt a twinge of envy for her friend’s happiness.

  “Now that we’ve decided on what kind of cake you want we’ll have to choose how I’ll decorate it,” Melissa said.

  “By the time you get done with Gracie Wilson’s wedding, you might not want to do mine,” Lily said with another grin.

  Melissa almost agreed. “I doubt yours will be as complicated. That wedding cake itself is up to five tiers now, housed in its own gazebo complete with fountain.”

  Lily laughed as she patted Melissa on the shoulder. “No gazebo for my cake, but what you’ll come up with will be perfect.” Lily glanced at her watch. “Sorry. Got to run. I have my own appointment with Mrs. Morgan. Probably to talk about flowers for said gazebo. Bye, Mr. Eversleigh,” she said, fluttering her hands at Dale, who was watching her go with a faintly melancholy smile.

  He lost out on that one, Melissa thought with a smile.

  “Sorry about that,” Melissa said to Dale as they walked toward the nearest empty park bench tucked in the shade of an oak tree so large it must have been here since Noah’s flood. “I haven’t seen Lily for a while.”

  “Lily is a wonderful person. We’ve had a number of business dealings already,” Dale said, rubbing his hands together. “I’m glad to see that you two get along.”

  “We have a lot in common. We both came here as outsiders,” Melissa replied. “Or city slickers, as Brian likes to say.”

  Dale laughed. “Brian can be outspoken.”

  “Outspoken isn’t the word I would choose,” she murmured as she dropped onto the bench, kicking her shoes off and letting the grass cool her feet. She had been standing all day and now her feet throbbed in time to the pounding of her head. Her legs and arms felt like limp spaghetti. It was as if the exhaustion dogging her the past few days had been waiting for her to relax before pouncing on her.

 

‹ Prev