Frosted Sweets (A Taste of Love Series Book 1)

by A. M. Willard

  Frankie and Natasha watch as Zara gets up and walks behind the counter. The morning crowd has picked up some, and Hatcher is still banging on the register. I’m not sure if she’ll bring me back a surprise, but I’m relieved she’s helping him.

  “What’s the plan? I can make some calls and see what we can do about everything,” Frankie says as Natasha pulls her legal pad out of her briefcase. These two could rule the world if I allowed them to take it over.

  “Nothing, I told Simon he had to deal with it all. His mistake. He can tell them he’s a lying cheating S.O.B. All I need to do is get rid of this crap, and the dress,” I say as I point to the mound of wedding favors. It’s when I gaze back up that I recognize the guy from yesterday walking into the shop.

  Curious about why he’s back, I keep a close eye on him. He’s staring at the display case with intensity. One hand goes up to his chin as he crosses the other one in front of his chest.

  “What are those?” he asks Hatcher, who isn’t paying attention.

  I slide out and walk over beside him. “Those are orange marmalade cupcakes topped with an orange peel.”

  “Did you make them?”

  “I did. It is my shop,” I say, but quickly realize that my sleepless night is showing and I shouldn’t have been rude. “Sorry, but yes, I made those and all of the items this morning.”

  “Oh, well, we devoured that feast last night and they said this was the best place for a morning treat. So, I’m back, but I don’t know what I want.”

  “Just so you know, it was a trick. The A-team always orders the same thing. They wanted to get you hooked, hoping you will feed their taste buds,” I explain as I walk behind the counter and grab a box from the shelf. I don’t ask what he wants; I decided he needs a little taste of them all. I pack a few of the minis, a blueberry muffin, bagel, cinnamon twist, bear claw, and my special brownie cupcake delight. Just as I go to place it down, he asks, “What’s that one?”

  “Oh, this is my favorite. If you love chocolate, you will need a support group once you come down off your sugar high.”

  “Can I have that now, and let me buy you one?” he asks, and I hand it over to him and reach back in to grab me one.

  Just as I plop the side in my mouth, Frankie screams, “Get her,” from across the room and one brownie cupcake is knocked from my hand by Zara.

  When I glance up at her, she’s shaking her finger at me. “You know better. I’d rather not go to the hospital today. Now stop it.”

  “Is something wrong with them,” the man on the other side asks.

  “No, she’s allergic to it and shouldn’t be eating them.”

  “How is that possible? I thought you were joking before. I mean, you bake all this, but you can’t eat them?”

  “No, I can and do, just have to stay away from the dark stuff. I can have anything else other than milk chocolate.”

  “That’s odd,” he says as he opens his mouth wide and takes a bite. I hear a devilish moan escape from his lips and watch him lower his eyelids and chew the rest. Our little episode has grown an audience from the girls; they are watching him in amusement right along with me.

  “You know, Morgan, I thought it was only you who moaned like that, and he just proved us all wrong,” Frankie says.

  “Sorry, but yeah, that is the best thing I have ever had. You weren’t lying about the sweetness.”

  “Hi, I’m Morgan Lewis, and welcome to The Polka Dot Café & Bakery. We have support groups every Wednesday night at eight,” I say as I laugh and stick my hand out to shake his.

  “Do you serve desserts while we meet? I’m Jayden Rivers, your newest member.”

  When our hands meet, I jerk mine back. It’s not from the electricity you hear others explain; this is different. It’s a mixture of comfort and familiarity, and it washes over me like I’ve known him all my life. I know this isn’t the case, but it still doesn’t stop my body from reacting to his touch. I pull the side of my lip in between my teeth and grip it tightly, as I have no clue what just happened. All of a sudden, Hatcher’s voice pulls me back. “You might want to run. This is what they do. They suck you in with the sweet stuff, next thing you know you’ll be wearing an apron and hanging out with these crazy ladies.”

  “If I get to eat this every day, I might just let them.”

  Zara plops her elbows down on the counter. “You’re kind of dreamy.”

  “Shut your trap, Zara, and go bake something,” Hatcher says, which only makes her face turn bright red.

  I’m still shell-shocked and pretty sure that the cat actually did steal my tongue, or the sleep deprivation has kicked in. The connection of wires inside my head is not charged at the moment. “Here, these are for you. Enjoy and come back to see us soon,” I say and turn to go hide in my office.

  THE DAY HAS MOVED along with no hiccups, no word from Simon, and everyone has allowed me to hole up in my office. I spent the rest of the day ordering supplies, confirming engagements, and taking deliveries. Hatcher came in a few times to see if he could run some numbers but quickly evacuated the office after I raised my head and looked his way. It’s time for Zara to head out, as she has a poetry reading on the other side of town to attend. I have to be humane for just a couple more hours before I can drag my zombie-self home to bed.

  “Morgan, I need to leave. Can you handle it or do I need to stay?” Zara asks as she peeps her head through the door.

  “No, I’ll be okay. I’ll be right out.”

  “Okay, Hatcher and I already took care of the kitchen and stocked behind the counter. I don’t think you will be busy tonight.”

  “Thanks. I can handle it. I just need some sleep.”

  “All right, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Night, and thanks for holding the fort down today,” I say, offering up a pleasant smile, which earns me one in return before Zara walks away.

  I’m not sure if I’m still shell-shocked or relieved about my new predicament. My dress is still hanging up at the side of the office, and I feel nothing when I assess it. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life, but now I’m numb. I know I’m shocked, but shouldn’t I feel some kind of hurt from this? But I don’t. Relief is the only way I can describe it. Even though I believe every person was made with a matching soul mate, Simon wasn’t mine. I’ll accept the fact that I’m twenty-nine and still single. Plenty of people I have gotten to know through the bakery are single still—some come to me to plan their cakes at the ripe age of forty. I still have hope, it’ll just take some time. My career will be my primary focus for now while everything else falls into place.

  I remove myself from behind my desk and make my way out to the front, which is empty, and that relieves me. I’m not really upbeat at the moment and would rather just enjoy the peace and comfort within the walls of my little haven.

  The evening rush hour has commenced, and the sidewalk is packed as people briskly walk to their destination. Most have their heads in some kind of device or are talking to the one next to them. It’s funny how, when you stop and take in everything around, you notice the difference in people. You realize that you were one of those people yesterday, the one who was lost in the shuffle of getting to your destination quickly. Today, time stands still; it’s my crystal ball of the future. Right now leaning against the countertop of my successful shop, a calendar packed with orders, I choose to start living. I refuse to be lost in the shuffle anymore. I want the adventure of life and love all wrapped in one giant cookie.

  After closing the shop and dragging myself to the parking garage, I finally make it home. I enter my apartment and let out a loud yelp. Simon is sitting on my sofa with a bag of peas from the freezer resting on his junk.

  “Simon, what are you doing here?”

  “What’s it look like? Plus we need to talk,” he says as he shifts around and adjusts the bag again.

  “You deserved it, and we have nothing left to speak about,” I say as I walk across the room and drape the b
ag holding my wedding dress over the dining room chair. Not making eye contact with him, I continue on my path to the kitchen. Standing on my tip-toes, I reach up and grab the bottle of Merlot that I’ve been saving.

  “Need any help?”

  “No, I’m capable of doing this myself. Would you please leave? And on the way out, drop my key off on the table.”

  “Not leaving yet. After we talk, I’ll leave.”

  “Whatever, you have five minutes so I suggest you start talking now,” I say as I pop the cork and pour a glass for myself. I’m not in the mood to play nice, and I don’t even offer Simon a drink as I walk past him to the lounge chair. He’s quick on his feet as he follows.

  “Look, Morgan, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I was calling it off last night, as a last fling before the ring sort of thing.”

  “Last fling, huh? Then what happens two years in when you get bored?”

  “I wouldn’t do that to you, and you know it.”

  “Oh, I do? So this I should ignore and allow you to get it out of your system?”

  “I don’t expect you to ignore it, and I did get it out. I just needed to know that you were what I wanted to spend the rest of my life with,” he says as he places a hand on my leg. His simple gesture causes me to flinch away from him. The fact that he’s had his hands on another woman for who knows how long disgusts me.

  “Just stop, Simon. I could never trust you again. You knew this would be the final straw that broke us. What am I to do? Every late meeting, business trip—I’d question them all. I refuse to live my life like that.”

  “So you’ve made your mind up? There’s nothing I can do to change it?”

  “No, you need to cancel the wedding like I said and give me back my key. I’ll pack up the few things from my apartment and have them sent over to you, as I hope you will do the same to mine.”

  “Could you at least call the beast off at work?”

  “That, you will have to deal with. You know just as well as I do, Natasha is her own kind. You pissed her off, and you hurt me. I’m pretty sure she’s currently planning a way to off you and never get caught,” I say with a hint of a laugh, as I know it’s probably true. She could be the mastermind behind all crime and know how to represent you in the court of law and plead you out.

  “I’ll always love you, Morgan. I didn’t want us to end this way. I’m sorry.”

  “Next time, think before you stick that little thing in something else, just a parting gift of advice for the next trusting soul,” I say as I watch him walk out the door. At least he listened and left the key on the coffee table.

  I tuck my feet up underneath me and sip my glass of wine as I scroll through the texts and missed calls from the day. At some point, I need to call my mother and break the news to her. We have a list a mile long of guests that need to be notified. I know I told Simon to do this, but I need to be the one to handle my family. He can control the church, reception hall, DJ, and everything else. My family is ultimately my responsibility, and his is his.

  No time better than the present. With a big gulp to finish off the glass, I hit that favorite magic button labeled mom and wait for her to answer.

  On the third ring, I hear my mother’s voice and immediately drop my shoulders as my head rests in my hand. “Morgan dear, how are you?”

  “Not so good, Mom. I need to tell you something. You got a minute?”

  “What’s wrong? And you know I always have time for my daughter.”

  “Well, I’m not getting married, for one, and Simon was cheating on me, for two. Three, I’m worried about why I’m not more upset about this.”

  “Oh dear, what? Did you just say Simon was cheating? Are you sure about this? I mean … I just can’t imagine him doing this and so close to the wedding.”

  “Yes, I saw it and he admitted to it. He said something about one last fling before the ring or some shit. But anyway, it’s over and we need to let the family know. He’s going to cancel all the reservations and stuff; I just can’t deal with it.”

  “Morgan, I’m sure it was just once. Can’t you forgive him?”

  “Could you forgive my father?” I ask, knowing that it was a low blow, but she kicked him out and divorced him years ago for the same thing. So why does she think I should accept it from Simon?

  “Now, Morgan, you will not talk to your mother that way. You don’t know everything, young lady. I’ll allow this to slide as I know you are hurting and taking it out on me. Tomorrow I’ll come to the shop and we can talk about everything.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom, it’s just he knew that was the one thing that would end us. I don’t care if it was once, I’ll always second guess him. Plus, when I stop to think about it, I’m not that upset, just tired.”

  “Of course you are, dear. Now go get some rest, and I’ll handle my end of things. See you tomorrow.”

  “See you tomorrow. Love you, Mom, and sorry.”

  “Love you, dear, and I know,” she says and ends our conversation.

  I know she’s disappointed that her only daughter isn’t marrying the prim and proper Simon Kensington. One day she will move past it. Hell, she didn’t even know that Simon was pushing for me to close the shop or have Zara run the place. Something about a Kensington wife shouldn’t be running a bakery. I’d need to take care of the house, arrange social meetings, and join the other ladies in the law firm. That’s just not me; I could never see letting go of what I’ve worked so hard for. Plus, I could hardly make it through the multiple dinner parties I’ve had to attend with him and Natasha.

  In the end, everything happens for a reason. Paths are meant to be crossed for a higher purpose than what we realize at the moment. Life for everyone goes on. This is just a fork in the road that has taken me for a slight detour. Tomorrow I’ll pick up a new map and set my sights on a new direction. Tonight I’ll sleep, so I get up and head toward my fluffy mattress that I can snuggle down into.

  IT’S A NEW DAY and the weather outside has turned brisk as a cold front heads our way. Since I no longer have a wedding to plan, I need to finish decorating the bakery and finish my Christmas shopping. Simon and I expected to be gone for Christmas on our honeymoon, which meant a low key year for our families. I mean, a wedding is pretty expensive, and with everything going on we’d decided to kind of skip it and focus on that. Now, I need something else to focus on as I work through this disaster.

  I grab my jacket and scarf and head out the door. The weather hasn’t turned cold enough yet for me to drive, and the walk today will provide me the escape that I need.

  I take in the bare trees, the leaves on the ground, and the way the sky has turned gray. It’s befitting if you think about it, how just the day before the sky was bright and filled with hope, now it reflects the same feeling that I’m having. Yesterday I must have been in shock; today it’s hit me. Today I realize that I’m not marrying the one I thought loved me, I’m just Morgan Lewis, the owner of a bakery, a tiny apartment in downtown Atlanta, and a 2012 Camry. Nothing special, just another person walking through town to start her day. A chill runs through my body as I stand at the corner to cross, and I peer over to the other side of the street and notice my new customer has returned yet again.

  It’s funny how all it takes is one sweet tooth junkie to make you smile. Most of my regular customers have been coming in for years, and when we get a new one, it’s exciting. We get to meet families who come in and trust us to make their birthday party, wedding day, graduation, or any other particular event, special. The morning crowd is usually too busy for chit chat, and they are quick on their toes to get to work. I admit, I love attracting new clients, but something about this one makes me smile. It could be the way he moaned when he tasted my brownie cupcake, or the way that, when he smiles, his eyes light up like I’ve never seen.

  A quick pull of the glass door and I wander inside and take a glance around. It’s as if nothing happened; no one is staring or wondering why I hid the day away yesterday. Zara
’s behind the counter and raises her head and offers a sweet smile in my direction. I return one as I head over to the line.

  With a bump of the shoulder, I say, “Back already?”

  “I am. Can’t stay away.”

  “That’s great for me then. Glad to have gained a new customer,” I say as I glance up and smile.

  “Doesn’t hurt that the owner is cute, just adds to the sweetness of the treats.”

  A laugh escapes my mouth as I shake my head. “I see he likes to flatter the owner also.”

  “Did it work?”

  “No, but good try. Anyway, welcome back. I need to get started.”

  “Thanks, and I’m sure I’ll see you later.”

  “I’m here every day,” I say as I walk away and say hello to a few others sitting at the tables. In my office, I discard my jacket and hang it where my wedding dress hung just hours before, and shake off the memory. Quickly I boot my computer and study today’s agenda. I have two consultations and a cake to bake for a Christmas party that will be picked up this evening. I notice it’s for the same company that Jayden works for and wonder if he’ll be the one to retrieve it tonight. There’s something about him, maybe it’s the smile, or the mere fact that he actually likes what I bake. Unlike Simon, who never ate my treats, only on a rare occasion. I find it refreshing, and cute.

  “Morgan, just wanted to warn you I might have pissed Hatch off, and I don’t know where he is.”

  My shoulders slump as I wonder what she could have done this time. “What did you do?”

  “Smashed a cupcake in his face, and I may or may not have kissed him.”

  “How is it a may or may not situation? You either did or didn’t.”

  “Fine, I did and he left.”

  “Zara, you two are like children, you know that right? Hatcher is our accountant, not a baker, and you push him more than I know anyone else to do,” I say as I grab my phone to text him.

  “He likes to help me in the kitchen, plus I like messing with him.”

  “I know. Come on, I have work to do, and if we plan to still have dinner with the girls, then I need to snap to it.”