by Scott, Lisa
Wolff. That sounded right. On wobbly knees, Rose plopped down on the couch. “But … but … he’s so young.”
Grandma looked over her shoulder at her and waggled her eyebrows. “I know. He’s perfect for the job.”
Job? Oh, sweet berry muffins, she’s paying him. “Why?”
Grandma drifted back into the room and sat in a chair across from Rose. “Darling, I really need it at my age. You know what it’s like.”
Rose’s mouth opened and closed as she tried to protest. “I’m not really part of that scene any more.” Sure, she’d had the boyfriend of the month for a while. But that was before, when she staggered in at all hours of the night, drinking and basically making her mother’s life a living hell. Everything was different now that Mom was gone.
Grandma leaned toward her. “Plus, he’s got the biggest—”
“Gosh, the weather’s been cold, huh?” Rose stood up, interrupting, so she wouldn’t have to wash out her ears later from their conversation. “Snow and sleet and freezing rain. And the barometer’s been falling…”
Grandma sighed. “Sweetheart, I’d really love to chat, but I’m exhausted and I need a shower. We’ll catch up later this week, alright?”
“Umm … yes. Of course. Right.” She gathered her things and headed for the door in a daze. She and Grandma usually chatted for hours while watching classic movies on cable, selecting an incredible wine from Grandma’s collection to go with the show, and usually ignoring her goodies from the bakery, now that she thought about it. “Well, bye, Grandma.”
“Wait, Rose!”
Thank goodness. Grandma was going to sit her down and explain everything. Rose turned around, hopeful. “Yes?”
Grandma dashed to the door with her basket. “Don’t forget these. I think those green ones have gone bad. They smell like low tide down at the pier.”
Rose grabbed the basket and she was so distracted, she left the building without her cape.
Five cabs passed her before she got a ride.
***
When Rose got home, she spent an hour checking the calorie contents on all the ingredients in her muffins. Then adding up the total—and adding again. “Six-hundred fifty calories?” she whispered to herself. But still, they were six hundred fifty calories of good, healthy ingredients. What made her even more upset, though, was that Jack had been right.
Jack. The name made her shudder just remembering his deep blue eyes, his bulging biceps, and entrancing smile. At least she thought the feeling was a shudder, because it would be really wrong to have any lustful thoughts for her grandma’s lover. She wondered how much she was paying him. Where’d she find him anyway? She had no idea how such an arrangement worked.
Curiosity was killing her, so she called Grandma, hoping she wasn’t asleep yet. Grandma answered on the third ring. “Rose, what is it? Did you get sick from one of those green muffins?”
“No. I was curious. Where did you meet Jack?”
“Facebook. He has a fan page celebrating older women. Good night, darling.”
Rose was woozy with shock as she sat in the corner of her apartment that served as her kitchen. Once she came back to her senses, she slammed her cookbook on the table. He had a Facebook page luring in seniors? He was a predator. Should she put a stop to this?
With a sigh, she slumped in her chair. No, she had to leave this be. It wasn’t her place. Grandma seemed happy and she knew what she was doing. At least someone in her family did, because Rose certainly didn’t.
***
Rose spent the next morning looking for ways to reduce the calorie count in her muffins. She replaced the olive oil in the Sea Goddess muffins with applesauce, and was pleased with the test batch.
She filled the display case with the muffins, trying to ignore the fact she hadn’t had a customer in twenty-two minutes. She always got nervous when half an hour had passed without a sale. She needed to sell just over five hundred-fifty dollars worth of goods a day, so on average, she needed to make twenty three-dollars in sales every thirty minutes. She wasn’t going to give up on this place. She’d be fighting for her business to the bitter end.
Cutting up one of the muffins, she placed a few samples of Bran Apple Betty on the counter. The bell on the door jangled and she let out the breath she’d been holding. A customer. She’d make sure they bought something, even if she had to offer a half-price discount. Smiling, she looked up.
The knife slipped from her fingers and hit the floor, which was probably for the best; Jack was standing in her store, grinning.
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for another Sea Goddess muffin. It was good. I felt energized after I ate it last night. At least, I think it was the muffin that left me feeling that way.” One arrogant eyebrow popped up.
She pursed her lips. “I’m all out. And you were right. The muffins are high in calories.”
He walked toward her and leaned against the counter. “So make them smaller.” He smiled at her and darn her heart for kicking up a notch.
“That’s what I’d been planning to do,” she lied, although it was a good idea. She crossed her arms. “Are you seeing my grandmother today?”
“She wanted to, but I’m booked up. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Don’t you think she’s a little old for you?”
He widened his stance and crossed his arms. “She’s perfect for me. My specialty, actually.”
She sucked in a breath and couldn’t get the words out.
“I’ll take a dozen Sea Goddess muffins. Looks like you’ve got some right here in the display case.”
“Oh. Right.” She thought about not serving him. But his sale would mean she’d break her half hour curse. Reluctantly, she filled his order, rang up the sale and handed him the box of muffins. “Thank you.”
His eyes twinkled. “You’re just as beautiful as your grandmother. Must be the health benefits of your goodies.” He handed her two twenties.
Snatching the money, she gritted her teeth and bit back a thousand nasty things she could say. Is this how the exchange happened with Grandma Kate? A handful of twenties passed over when they were all done? Or was it hundreds? “Please don’t hurt my grandmother.” She made change and slammed the cash register drawer shut.
“We’re careful. She won’t get hurt.” He glanced over his shoulder as he left the shop. “Don’t you ever do anything for fun, Red?”
She planted her hands on her hips. “No, I do not. I work too hard.”
“Have a little fun, Red. Go bake a cupcake.” One side of his mouth curled up and he left.
“It’s Rose!” she shouted after him. She waited a few seconds and then dashed to the window to see where he was going. With her palms against the glass, she swore. A woman in a long fur coat was kissing him on the cheek.
That’s it. She grabbed her cloak, locked the door, and dashed down the street. She had to find that woman and get the goods on Jack.
“Excuse me! Ma’am? Wait!” Rose chased after the woman, but a cab pulled up to the sidewalk and the woman climbed in.
Rose was breathless as she watched the cab pull away. How’d she get a cab so quickly—without a red cape?
“Is there something I can help you with?”
She spun around and saw Jack leaning against a building.
“Who was that woman?”
He pushed away from the building and walked towards her. “Who?”
“The one who just got in a cab. The one who kissed you!”
He cocked his head and smiled at her. “That was one of my mother’s friends.”
She exhaled in surprise.
“I’m seeing her later tonight.”
Rose pursed her lips, made a grumpy, dismissive noise, and spun around. She marched back to her shop, fished her keys out of her apron pocket, opened the door, and called her grandmother.
“Rose, you’re turning into a pesky old lady. What is it?”
“You can’t see Jack again.”
> “What?”
“I just saw another woman kissing him on the street.”
Grandma laughed. “Rose, I know I’m not the only one.”
Right. Of course. Gigolos have lots of women. “Aren’t there any nice men in your building?”
“Oh yes, there’s a prince up in the penthouse,” Grandma said.
Rose pinched the bridge of her nose. “Grandma, seriously….”
“What? There is, from some tiny European country. But rumor has it he’s a beast. A nasty, nasty man. I like Jack. I’m a grown woman, Rose. I know what I’m doing.”
The idea of turning Jack in to the police crossed her mind, but then Grandma would get in trouble, too. Who was the John, here? Grandma or Jack? What did it matter? Grandma was going to do what she wanted. “Okay, fine. I just hope you don’t get hurt.”
“We’re being careful.”
Making a face, Rose hung up, and swore she heard Grandma giggling. Well, if Jack was making her happy and making her feel young again, who was she to break up that kind of magic? He was her fountain of youth, apparently. She’d have to grit her teeth and be nice. And try to forget that Jack was the most gorgeous man Rose had ever seen.
Who happened to be sleeping with her grandmother. Whoever said life was unfair was absolutely right.
***
Jack was there again when Rose dropped off flax seed cookies on Thursday. Grandma peeked in the basket and frowned. “Rose, dear, I do appreciate the gesture, but I’m not interested in your tofu cookies and multi-grain breads. When you start making cinnamon sticky buns and chocolate torte, you can drop off all you like. Though I doubt you’d have any left.”
She stood up straight. “Grandma, you know I’m all about healthy choices, now.”
“And I’m into indulgence now.” Her voice was low and sultry.
“You could learn a few things from Kate,” Jack said, looking gorgeous in a pale blue sweater and jeans. He kissed Grandma’s hand, and whispered, “Should we tell her?”
Panic walloped Rose’s chest. “Tell me what?”
“Nothing darling. Nothing you need to know yet.” She shared a knowing look with Jack.
He just shrugged. “Okay, then. You’re in charge. It’s your call, Kate.”
Oh, my mammoth zucchini muffin. Are they going on vacation? Getting married? With just a little bit of Grandma’s money, Jack wouldn’t have to hustle so many other old ladies. That’s probably what he was thinking. Grandma wasn’t just a senior cougar; no, this was much worse.
Rose jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “I’m going to go.” She had no choice but to tolerate this; but that didn’t mean she had to watch it.
“Bye, darling,” Grandma said, never taking her eyes off Jack.
***
She got to the bakery before the sun was up the next morning. She hadn’t been able to sleep, and there were numbers to review and muffins to make. Wanting to please her calorie conscious customers, she was going to offer different sized muffins and list the calories and ingredients for all her goods, along with the benefits of the select ingredients. She hated that Jack had inspired this new strategy, but then again, even gigolos needed good marketing skills to get ahead.
She dumped a cup of rice flour in a mixing bowl. With Valentine’s Day approaching, she wanted to experiment with some romantic treats. A rose hip bread would be nice. She stirred some dried cherries into the mix. The rose hips were said to soothe the nerves and cherries aroused desire in women. Passion Bread, that’s what she would call it. That might be appealing to her clients. She wouldn’t let her grandmother have any of it, though. When the first batch cooled, she sunk her teeth into the warm, moist bread. She smiled. It was good.
The hours flew by—she had another piece of bread—and she flipped her sign to ‘open’ right before seven a.m. She didn’t have to wait long for her first customer to arrive. When the bells jingled, she looked up and frowned—while running a hand down her hip and then smoothing her hair. She shouldn’t have had that second piece of passion bread. She blew out her breath. “So, you finished all your muffins already?”
“I’ve been sharing them with my clients. It keeps up their stamina,” Jack said.
It probably did. Seaweed detoxified the body and increased metabolism. It also helped with impotence—a problem he certainly didn’t have. She pointed a wooden spoon at him. “Do not talk to me about the other women in your life and what you’re doing with them.” She shivered as an image of her grandmother wearing a silk teddy and feather boa popped into her brain.
His big lips curled into that darn smile of his and she closed her eyes to keep it from affecting her, too.
“I’m just doing what your grandmother wants. There’s a lot you don’t understand about our relationship.” Her eyes popped open and he stepped closer to her and leaned against the counter. “Give me a chance. I’m not as bad as you think.”
Rose backed away from him.
He laughed. “Are you afraid of me?”
“Of course not.”
“I’m hardly the big bad wolf, Rose. So, are you going to serve me?”
Well, butter my croissant. Is that how it worked? Grandma was the one who did all the…. She shook the thought from her head and blinked at him.
“Your muffin.”
Rose blinked at him again. Exactly what was he proposing?
“The Seafood Goddess muffin. Can I have two dozen of the small ones? They are for sale, right?”
“Oh, yeah. Yes, of course that’s what you meant. I’ll get those right away.” She wiped away the line of perspiration beading above her lip. She needed to create a literal humble pie. Or a deep dish pie of common sense. What would be good for that—ginger?
“I like these. I usually don’t go for health food stuff. But these are good,” he said, tapping the display case.
“Thank you,” she said tersely, handing him the box.
He grabbed a few cards stacked up in a clear acrylic box by the register. “I’m going to pass these out to my clients. I’m going to recommend they bulk up on a muffin before I arrive.”
She didn’t know what to say. Would that make her some sort of accessory to this whole sordid thing?
“Hey, if you stop by Kate’s tonight, bring some of that pink bread in there. It looks good.”
“If there’s any left.” Which there would not be. Neither of them would be getting any passion bread. She’d give them something absolutely unsexy, like licorice. She frowned. Licorice actually had tons of health food benefits. She’d have to whip up something with a bit of it mixed in.
Maybe she wouldn’t stop by at all. Maybe Grandma didn’t even want her visiting anymore. Rose had assumed Grandma could use the company and would enjoy some left over baked goods. She doesn’t need me or my vegan banana bread when she’s got a hot, fresh, stud muffin.
But she couldn’t turn a blind eye to this nonsense. She was going to keep visiting. Maybe she could guilt grandma into giving up her escort. Maybe I need to visit even more often.
Jack smiled at her before leaving and she hated the feeling of lust that curled inside her. Guess he just had that kind of effect on everyone. Grandma didn’t stand a chance.
The cab fares were killing her, but what if Jack was out to swindle her Grandma? Being a sugar granny was one thing. But Jack could very well clear out Grandma’s sizeable bank account. She couldn’t afford not to go for another visit.
***
That night, Grandma was in the shower when she arrived. Well, at least they’re not in there together, she thought. She sat down on the couch with a sigh.
Jack tossed the magazine he’d been reading onto the table. “So, looking to join us for some fun, Red?”
Her mouth opened and closed and she finally managed to say, “Excuse me?”
“While I specialize in older women, I do have clients of all ages. We could make an arrangement. Your baked goods for my services.”
She popped up from her seat and went to
the kitchen for a drink. She hadn’t had alcohol since her mother died, but she might kill Jack if she didn’t calm down. A nice Riesling usually did the trick. “I am not interested in any business dealings with you.”
He followed her into the kitchen, and she downed the entire glass of wine. “Were you always like this?” she asked. She could imagine him pimping himself out as a prom date to girls across the city.
“You mean, generous enough to share my gifts with those in need?” His eyes locked on hers and she looked away.
“Yes, generous, that’s how I’d describe you.”
“Actually, I wanted to be a doctor. But in college, I realized this line of business was better suited for me.”
“It’s always good to find that perfect career match.”
“What about you? Did you always want to be a baker?”
She laughed. “No. I had no idea what I wanted to do. But I knew I had to get my act together after my mother died and baking was one of the few things I enjoyed doing. It was either that or party for a living, and Paris Hilton had that socialite thing all tied up at the time.”
He leaned against the counter and she could smell a whiff of mesmerizing aftershave. He stared at her long enough that it made her uncomfortable and she found herself crossing her arms. He chuckled. “Oh, so you did know how to have fun once upon a time.”
“I had enough fun for a lifetime.”
Grandma breezed into the kitchen in a new, silky kimono. Good grape seed streusel. What had these two been getting up to? Is that whole Kama Sutra thing Japanese? Is that what this was?
“Now, Rose, you’re not trying to steal away Jack from me, are you?”
She shook her head so hard it hurt.
“I’m sure he could fit you in, too.”
Holy whole-wheat bagels. “I’m going to get going. I left some muffins for you guys on the table.”
“If it’s the money, Rose, I can pay for it! Jack’s expensive but he’s worth it,” Grandma hollered after her.