by Carol Durand
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright 2015 by Maven Publishing - All rights reserved.
All rights Reserved. No part of this publication or the information in it may be quoted from or reproduced in any form by means such as printing, scanning, photocopying or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 1
“Absolutely not, I refuse. Thank you for calling, but the answer is no,” Melissa Gladstone, owner of two cupcake bakeries, Missy’s Muffins and More in LaChance, Louisiana, and Crème de la Cupcake in neighboring Dellville, firmly pressed the End button on her phone, hanging up on the Hollywood producer who had been on the other end of the line. When her phone began ringing immediately from an “Unknown” number, she sent the call directly to voicemail. The spunky 40-something blonde had done quite well competing on a nationally televised reality show called “Cutthroat Cupcakes” a few months ago, but had been more than eager to return to normal life in Louisiana. The final show had never taken place, due to the untimely death of one of the judges, but Missy’s business grew by leaps and bounds after her appearance on the show. She had been one of two final contestants, and upon her return to bayou country, it was all she could do to keep up with the increased volume of customers.
The producer whom she’d just shut down, had wanted to bring a film crew to Missy’s store once a week to film a series on her little hometown bakeries. They would record her and her staff in action – everything from creating new recipes, to baking, to interacting with customers, for a new show entitled “The Bayou Baker.” Having dealt with enough phony and sometimes cruel Hollywood types, she had flatly refused. She had no business being on television – she enjoyed the small town atmosphere in both of her quaint little shops, and felt that commercializing her operations by featuring them on television would somehow diminish her ability to give her customers the 100% satisfaction in product and service that they’d grown to expect.
Tossing her phone onto a desk stacked high with invoices, accounting and recipe notes, Missy headed for the front of the LaChance shop, Missy’s Muffins and More, having heard the bell over the front door jangle from where she had been pacing in the back hall. Her shop manager, a very pregnant Cheryl Radigan was laughing and talking with Missy’s best friend, Echo Willis, at the front counter. Echo owned a vegan ice cream shop across the street from Missy’s Dellville store, and the two had become fast friends when she had moved to Louisiana from California more than a year ago. The free-spirited former Californian dressed in comfortably draped natural fabrics, wore her hair down and wild, and always smelled vaguely of patchouli.
“Hey girl!” Missy grinned, hugging her friend. “What are you doing in this neck of the woods?”
“The craft shop in Dellville was out of jewelry wire, so I figured I’d give the one here a shot.”
“Uh-huh,” the cupcake artist nodded knowingly. “I’m sure your visit had nothing to do with the fact that the cupcake of the day today happens to be Vegan Carob Banana, right?”
“Nothing whatsoever,” Echo laughed, looking like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“Shall I hook her up, Ms. G.?” Cheryl asked with a smile.
“Absolutely. She’s my source for Vanilla Bean Rice Dream, so I try to keep her happy,” Missy winked. She poured two cups of coffee and led her friend to a table in the corner, where they could enjoy their cupcakes and catch up.
“How’s Mr. Wonderful?” Echo began their conversation by asking about the handsome local detective, Chas Beckett, whom Missy had been seeing for more than a year.
“Amazing, as usual,” her friend replied, taking a large bite of cupcake.
“You’re so lucky…I’m beginning to think that our particular corner of Louisiana has run out of eligible men,” she sighed, delicately removing the foil wrapper from her treat.
Missy swallowed her bite of cupcake, washing it down with steaming hot coffee. “I thought you were going to try that online dating site that you were talking about the other day, what was it called?” she frowned, trying to remember.
“Introduce Me,” Echo supplied. “I made a profile, and I’ve heard from a few men, but I don’t think they read my information before sending me a ‘flirt blurt.’ I mentioned in there that I’m vegan, and one guy who sent me a flirt blurt had a prominent photo of himself holding up the bloody head of a dead deer,” she shuddered.
“Oh no!” Missy sympathized. “Well, give it some time, you’ve only been on there for a couple of days, right?”
Echo nodded. “Yeah, I’ve pretty much given up, but I’m leaving my profile out there just in case.”
The two women chatted for just over an hour, refilling their mugs of coffee at least twice, before Echo rose to go. The friends hugged goodbye, with promises to get together again soon. It was a rare week when the two of them didn’t get to see each other at least four or five times. After her morning break with her bestie, Missy helped Cheryl tidy up the eating area, restock the cases, and plan out the Cupcake of the Day for each day of the upcoming week.
When the bell above the front door jangled merrily again, she was delighted to see the five members of her favorite book club, Burgundies and Books, coming in, along with their newest member, Samantha Lemmon, a new nurse at the local hospital. The founder, and generally accepted ringleader of the group, Sally Higgins, came up to the counter with Samantha, to say hello and place the order for the group.
“Good morning, Miss Sally,” Missy beamed. She sometimes joined the group for their Thursday book nights, and always looked forward to their Tuesday coffee and cupcake gatherings. “How are you on this fine Louisiana day?”
“Spectacular, thank you. Sam and I are going to have a meeting to make arrangements for a Garden Walk in the spring, so we’ll be staying a little later than the rest of the gals today,” the stylish woman who was about Missy’s age replied.
“Marsha isn’t heading that up this year?” Missy asked, glancing over at the table where pale, thin, mousy-haired Marsha sat with the other ladies, trying to appear as though she wasn’t straining to hear the conversation at the counter. She glanced up briefly and Missy smiled and waved.
“Uh…no, she isn’t,” Sally replied without further comment, leaving Missy to wonder what the story behind the change in leadership on the annual Garden Walk was all about. Marsha and Sally had worked together on the event for years. Figuring that she’d ask Sally about it l
ater, Missy poured six mugs of coffee and placed them on a tray to take to the ladies, while Cheryl plated and served six Cupcakes of the Day. She noted with interest that, although Marsha had been the one to introduce Sam to the group, the two sat as far away from each other as possible, with Sam and Sally engrossed in a serious conversation.
Once the ladies were served, Missy untied her apron, hung it up on a peg in the spotless commercial kitchen and headed for her office, where her phone buzzed insistently on her desk. The caller’s number was one that she didn’t recognize, but she answered anyway.
“Melissa Gladstone,” she said, flipping through some invoices and holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder.
“Please don’t hang up, Melissa,” the somewhat familiar voice on the other end implored. “I really need to talk to you about…”
Missy’s world was suddenly rocked by a loud BOOM! in the kitchen. “I’m sorry, there’s an emergency, you’ll have to call back,” she said hurriedly, pressing the End button on her phone and tossing it on the desk. She ran to the kitchen, dismayed to see one of her gas stoves blackened, and the surrounding wall on fire. Cheryl had come running in from the front, and Missy was relieved to see that the hugely pregnant young woman hadn’t been hurt.
“Get any customers out of the store, and stay out of the building,” she ordered, trying to stay calm. “I’m calling 911.”
Chapter 2
“So how much damage was done?” tall, dark and handsome detective Chas Beckett asked, digging his fork into a luscious pile of collard greens. He knew that after the harrowing day Missy had, comfort food was in order, so he took her to one of their favorite local cafes for dinner.
“I don’t know yet,” she sighed, tearing off tiny pieces of cornbread and dipping them into the sauce of her barbequed beans. “I’m meeting a contractor tomorrow for an estimate on repairing the structural damage. The stove is unsalvageable, and there will have to be a new countertop installed on one side. I’m just glad that no one was hurt.”
Chas nodded. “That’s the important thing,” he agreed. “Is Cheryl okay? That had to have been quite a shock.”
“Yes, she’s fine. A little shaken up, understandably, but fine. I’m sending her to the Dellville store to help Ben and Chris out while we rebuild,” Missy replied, sipping her sweet tea.
“Well, please know that I’ll help in any way that I can,” his blue eyes were filled with compassion that made Missy’s throat close with emotion. Chas’s father had passed several months ago, leaving the detective with an actual fortune, and Missy knew that he could help her out financially, but she had been keeping her family’s business afloat since her parents were killed in a tragic accident when she was seventeen, and she wasn’t about to relinquish her stubborn independence because of an unforeseen event.
“I know, Chas. Thank you,” she said, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. She loved this man with every fiber of her being, which was funny and ironic, because neither of them had been open to the idea of having a relationship when they’d met, and now they were inseparable.
Her phone buzzed, interrupting the moment, and she looked down at it with mild annoyance. Recognizing that the caller was the same person she’d hung up on when the explosion occurred, she took the call, apologizing to her charming dinner companion as she answered.
“Melissa Gladstone,” she gave her standard answer.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so glad you’re okay,” the still-vaguely familiar voice exclaimed. “Was that an explosion I heard earlier?”
“Yes, it was, and yes, I’m fine, thank you. Who is this exactly?” Missy asked without diplomacy, her rough day catching up with her.
“It’s Robin Campbell. I’m the Production Assistant from Horizon Studios in Hollywood,” the caller admitted, somewhat apologetically. “Look,” she began, before Missy could protest or hang up. “I know you have two businesses to run and that you’re a very busy gal, but I want you to know that I’ve been authorized to offer you a significant sum of money if you’ll agree to do a Bayou Baker show for us once a week in one of your cupcake shops. We’ll do everything we can to make certain that we stay out of your way and let you do your own thing, but I think that our viewers will really appreciate having a glimpse into your world,” she pleaded.
It was on the tip of Missy’s tongue to nicely but firmly decline, but then she remembered the costs involved in rebuilding the part of her shop that had been affected by the fire.
“What do you consider a significant sum of money?” she asked, carefully not committing, but leaving the door open to that possibility.
“I’d be happy to fly out there tomorrow and talk with you about it,” was the enthusiastic reply. “We can discuss terms and contracts, and if you’re comfortable with everything, we can get started as early as next week.”
“I have a lot on my plate for tomorrow,” Missy mused, still torn.
“No problem, I’ll work around your schedule. We can meet at two o’clock in the morning if you need to,” Robin assured her. “Thanks so much for agreeing to talk with me. You have my person tomorrow,” she said, hanging up before Missy could change her mind.
“What was that all about?” Chas asked, savoring a tender bite of pulled pork, drenched in Smoky Sweet BBQ sauce.
“Looks like I’m going to be a TV star,” Missy answered, shaking her head in disbelief.
Chapter 3
Missy surveyed the hive of activity buzzing about in her Dellville shop. Crème de la Cupcake had been overrun by a production crew, her entire staff, and a huge influx of customers. The quaint little store had already been running well above capacity, trying to keep up with the additional demand created by the temporary closure of the LaChance store after the explosion. Now that word had gotten out about Bayou Baker being filmed there on Tuesdays, the crowds had swelled almost to a degree that was unmanageable. Last week, Missy had hired a driver, Frank Stiles, to do the deliveries that she no longer had the time to do, and she was considering hiring another baking assistant if demand continued to increase.
“Goodness gracious it’s busy around here!” Sally Higgins remarked, when the book club ladies had to wait nearly half an hour for their usual table.
“Oh Sally, it’s just crazy,” Missy exclaimed, ringing up her items. Frank came out from the back to ask her a question about a delivery, distracting her for a moment.
“Well, my, my, my…and just who is that handsome fella?” Sally drawled, raising an eyebrow and watching his departing form with great interest.
“That’s Frank, he’s my new driver,” she explained. “He writes textbooks from home and wanted something part-time just to get himself out of the house, so this seems to be a perfect fit for him.”
“Hmm…I’m wondering if our little Sam might be a perfect fit for him,” Sally mused, glancing over at the table where Sam sat, laughing and talking with the other ladies.
“Matchmaking, Sally?” Missy teased.
“Oh you know me, honey, I’m always looking out for my friends,” she winked.
Robin Campbell breezed in from the kitchen to let Missy know that filming would be starting in just a few minutes, and that everyone should just behave as they normally would. Having seen all of the activity from her vegan ice cream shop across the street, Echo came in the front door, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
“Okay, girlfriend, you’ve been holding out on me,” the Californian accused.
“Huh?” Missy asked, confused and more than a bit distracted.
“Who is the insanely hot guy that I saw loading cupcakes into your new delivery van?” she demanded, hands on hips.
“Oh, you must be talking about Frank. He’s new. You think he’s hot?” she asked, grinning. To Missy, Frank had seemed attractive enough, in a professorial kind of way, but she was beginning to realize that the lack of interest in other men caused by exposure to the ridiculously handsome Chas Beckett, may have been skewing her perspective a bit.
; “Seriously?” Echo was astonished. “Okay, you have to figure out some way to make a double-date happen. Throw a dinner party or something…Oh, wait…is he even single?” she asked, wide-eyed.
“As far as I know,” Missy shrugged. “These are not things that are discussed in a job interview,” she laughed.
“Okay, we’ll have to find out,” her friend schemed. “When does he get back from this delivery?”
“Probably around noon, why?”
“So I can meet him, silly. But don’t tell him that I want to…I don’t want to seem forward or anything,” she worried.
“I won’t have to tell him,” Missy giggled. “By this time tomorrow, all of America will know,” she pointed to the camera that had been recording their entire exchange. Echo looked over in horror, realizing what had happened, and the cameraman grinned wickedly at her reaction. Throwing him a dirty look, she turned back to her friend.
“No more Vanilla Bean Rice Dream for you,” she threatened good-naturedly, heading for the door.
“See you at noon,” Missy waved, laughing.
After Echo left, it was all hands on deck as wave after wave of customers came through the doors, some just making their daily stop on the way to work, others curious because of the new television show. Missy was taking a batch of Lemon Dream cupcakes out of the oven when there was a bit of a stir in the employee break room. Setting the pan of cupcakes on a cooling rack and turning off the oven, Missy tossed her potholder aside and sped toward the room to see what was wrong. Ben came out of the room and stood in front of her, ashen but smiling.
“Ms. G., it’s time…we’re going to have a baby,” he said in a daze as Missy heard Cheryl cry out in the break room.
“Oh my goodness, Ben, that’s amazing,” Missy hugged him hard, tears in her eyes. “Now go! Go get the car, I’m going to go help Cheryl,” she ordered, pushing him toward the back door and heading down the hall. A cameraman followed her and she whirled on him.