The Cake King (Sugar & Spice Book 1)

by Rosie Chase

  “That’s right. And… as soon as I saw the place, it reminded me of Mattie’s. The food was so, so good. And the desserts? I had blackberry cobbler and Taylor had buttermilk pie. I took snickerdoodles and four different kinds of cupcakes with us to give to Michael.”

  “Oh…”

  “So that’s how he knew about you. He ate your food and he put Apple Butter on a list of places to visit. But he’s been so busy. When this whole…”

  “Hot Baker Contest.”

  He laughed.

  “Yes. The Hot Baker Contest started rolling and yours was the first name on the list.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.”

  We watched a goose sweep down and land, gracefully, at the river’s edge.

  “So, yes. Rei and Danielle and Maya are tremendous. They all bring something special to this rather absurd endeavor. But you bring something too, Sam. Don’t sell yourself short. Think about what makes you who you are. Lean into it.”

  I nodded, tears strangling me, just a little.

  “Thanks, Tom,” I said.

  “Cheers,” he said and started back down the sidewalk, leaving me behind to mull over exactly what it was that brought me here.

  On the way back I felt lighter. Freer. Faster. The breath in my lungs was fresher, the weight on my back maybe, just a little lighter.

  Walking into The Bonneville, I texted in my list of ingredients and had just hit send when I collided with someone.

  “Adrienne?” I said, surprised. What was she still doing here?

  She put on a smile and said her usual chipper, “Hello,” but her bright blue eyes were puffy and red-rimmed.

  “Oh, you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. This whole thing has just been so…”

  “I know.”

  “I’m going home tonight,” she said, her voice all watery and sad.

  “Oh, Adrienne…”

  She wiped her eyes and I just couldn’t stand to look at her anymore. I pulled her into a tight hug. I’d never been a hugger. But with this woman? This woman who was so soft and smelled so much like toasted hazelnuts and fresh cream and who I imagined probably spent her spare time knitting hats for orphans and kept a rescue pony in her backyard? This woman who was nothing but sweet and had been thrown into this crazy contest the same way I had?

  All her hopes had been dashed.

  I pulled her closer as I thought, selfishly, that this could be me tomorrow.

  “What are you making today?” she whispered.

  “Petit fours.”

  “Let me know how it goes,” she said, finally pulling away and smiling at me. “Give me your number.”

  I did and got a text full of hearts back from her. I added her to my contacts.

  “I think you’re a shoe-in, Sam.”

  Where did this come from? This faith in me that other people had. This encouragement. This support. Nellie and Eric had been the only positive force in my life until now and suddenly it was as if I’d wandered into a new family.

  “Thanks,” I managed.

  We said our goodbyes and then I mustered up my courage for the rest of the day. I hit the shower, dried my hair, put on the same shirt I’d worn last night. It smelled like Michael’s house. Like wood smoke and bergamot oil. I grinned and marched down to The Bakery.

  “Good Morning, bakers,” Tom said once we were all assembled. “Today your confections will be judged by Megan Godwin. Mr. Godwin has gone to the airport to pick her up while the four of you make petit fours fit for a wedding service or a patisserie window. You have five hours. Good luck and good bake!”

  I no longer had time for doubts. There could be no more second guessing. I looked over at Rei and she winked at me.

  “Good luck, Pink Hair,” she said.

  “You too.”

  And then I uncovered my requested ingredients.

  Four hours and fifty-five minutes later I left my petit fours on a tiered tray. Glazed blackberries sat atop tiny buttermilk pies. Molasses infused eclairs were filled with rich, sweet cream made from goat’s milk and drizzled with dark chocolate. And, at the top, tiny squares of mayonnaise cake were decorated with black cherries cut in the shape of hearts.

  “Those look amazing!” Maya exclaimed as we finished up.

  I laughed, surprised at the things myself, and looked around the room. Danielle’s tiered tray was beautiful. She’d cleverly dressed every level of confection so that from the pastel pink top, to the deep red bottom, the tower presented a stunning ombre effect. Rei’s was typically imaginative. She’d used summer flavors and flowers to serve up a fresh-looking display. Maya’s was straight out of a french patisserie window. Or, at least, the pictures I’d seen of French patisserie windows online. The top pastries formed little sugar renditions of the Eiffel Tower.

  It seemed impossible that I could still be here and yet I knew, at least, that I’d done my best.

  “Come on,” Rei said. “Let’s get some dinner. And I want you to tell me all about your little trip last night!”

  “Okay,” I said, getting my stuff together.

  We headed through the double doors past Tom, who smiled at me, and then there was Michael and his sister, Megan. She was even more gorgeous in person. Her skin was about a shade darker than Michael’s and her big, long-lashed eyes were full of the same smiling generosity. Oh, and the dimples? Fuck. Talia was a lucky woman.

  “Megan,” Michael said, “I’d like you to meet Sam Davis and Rei Silva.”

  Megan grinned and gave her big brother a knowing nod and an eyebrow cock that would rival Rei’s. We shook hands and hers was steady and strong. Just like Michael’s.

  “The next three days are going to be amazing,” she said.

  “The next three days?” Rei asked.

  “I have to do a photoshoot in London for a friend’s cookbook but we’d planned on Megan’s judging the end of the contest anyway,” Michael said, with a degree of apology in my direction.

  Well, that made sense. It was her wedding.

  But I wasn’t going to see him for three days?

  And then the contest would be over. I would go back to Apple Butter and he’d go back to living Cake King Life. Would I ever hear from him again?

  “So… why isn’t the Cake King here doing your shindig?” Rei asked, breaking through my low-key freakout.

  Megan playfully elbowed Michael in the side. “When Michael’s baking, it’s all he thinks about. I never get home these days so…”

  “You want to spend the time leading up to your wedding with your family. And you want Michael to be present,” I said.

  Megan nodded and beamed up at Michael.

  “Oh okay,” Rei said. “So… this whole thing hasn’t been about building a baking harem? I mean, wow.”

  “What?” Megan asked, innocently. “Oh. There’s Ollie!”

  Megan turned to wave at Oliver Kline as he came out of the hotel with… Adrienne. They were about to get into a car and Megan ran over to them to say hello. She hugged Oliver and shook Adrienne’s hand.

  Michael rolled his eyes and I was about to drag Rei away from ruining her chances at winning the cake job when my phone buzzed.

  It was Nellie. Nellie never called. She always texted. So, maybe it was a butt dial or something but… it just didn’t feel right. I walked away from the group, holding the phone to my ear.

  “Nellie? Everything ok?”

  But it wasn’t. And five minutes later, when I turned toward where Michael, Megan, and Rei were standing around laughing and looking so wonderfully, blissfully happy, I didn’t want to interrupt. Instead, I started walking in the opposite direction, toward the lobby. I needed some fresh air.

  I should’ve known Michael would follow me.

  “Sam—”

  I didn’t stop.

  “Sam, what’s wrong? What happened?”

  He finally caught up with me, touching his fingertips to my elbow. He was so warm. So sure. So solid. I turned, finally, a
nd he pulled me into an embrace. I pressed my face into his shoulder and hated the tear marks I left behind.

  “I’m sorry, Michael. I have to go home. I can’t finish the contest.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Okay, Sam. Tell me what’s going on.”

  We were sitting at one of the tables on the hotel patio now. Michael had flagged down a server and got me a bottle of water and a bag of chips.

  God, I loved him.

  Oh, fuck. Did I love him?

  I leaned forward, framed my face in my hands, and started crying all over again.

  “Hey now… it’s alright.” Michael soothed, pulled his chair closer. He rested a firm hand on my back, ran it over my shirt in circle after circle until I finally stopped crying. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “It’s Eric and Nellie.”

  “Your friends at Apple Butter.”

  I nodded.

  “Eric was in a car accident this morning.”

  “Oh—”

  I sniffled but managed to continue, “He’s okay. I mean, he’s not okay. Another car t-boned his. He broke his left arm, hip, and femur. He’s in the hospital but the bones are set and he’ll recover.”

  Michael looked truly relieved but I saw the moment the penny dropped. I had to give him credit. He really wasn’t as far from his poverty-line roots as his Cake King title suggested.

  “So, he can’t cook,” Michael said. “The restaurant—”

  “Nellie can’t run it by herself, Michael. She would try. I know she would. But it’s too much.”

  “And she can’t close it down…”

  I shook my head.

  “No. Not even for a few days. They’re already way in the red.”

  “When Tom went… I mean. I thought Apple Butter was usually full.”

  I nodded.

  “It is. It’s a popular place and we get a lot of tourist traffic from people driving the parkway. But, a couple years ago, Nellie got sick. She had to have her gallbladder removed and she had a bad reaction to the medication. She was in the hospital for three weeks.”

  “And the bills…” Michael said, trailing off. He knew. He understood.

  “Just a couple weeks. We kept the restaurant open for all that except the day she was in surgery. But none of us have insurance. And they were already in debt because…”

  My throat closed up. I couldn't speak. Couldn’t breathe.

  Michael rubbed my back again. Waited. I sniffed and smelled cloves, citrus, Michael. And the scent of what I’d made that day. The molasses and blackberries, the mayonnaise and black cherries, buttermilk and goat’s cheese. The smells of home.

  I wanted, so badly to stay, to see this thing through. To spend a few more days baking with Rei and Maya. To let Michael wrap his arms around me and tell me, again, that he needed me.

  But I also had to go. I had to take care of the people that had taken care of me.

  “I told you about my mom and dad. And how they… well, how they didn’t want me. And how my grandma died.”

  He nodded.

  “So after I came back from trying to see my dad, I was homeless. I stayed in school, barely. I used to sneak into the high school auditorium and sleep in the boiler room after whatever sports practice had ended. I spent a lot of afternoons in the park, evenings in the library. I took showers in the locker room I’d never wanted to use before. And I stole food from restaurants.”

  “Oh… Sam—”

  I shook my head. Had to get it out. Had to make him understand.

  “One day… it was freezing. I was out behind Apple Butter, hoping to get some discarded bakery stuff. Maybe a pot pie. They used to have these little… Anyway, Eric caught me. He made me come inside. And then there was Nellie. And she made me take a bath. A real bath. It was almost Christmas. I remember they had this huge tree at the front of the restaurant and the whole place smelled like cinnamon. It was the first time I ever had eggnog.”

  Michael smiled.

  “Anyway, it turned out I was in pretty bad shape. I had strep throat. I was dehydrated and malnourished. I was running a high fever. I had about ten cavities and an abscess that needed a root canal. Within a few weeks I was healthy. And, for the first time since my grandma died, I was pretty happy. But it added up. Bills came on top of bills. And then social services started sniffing around. Nellie helped me get emancipation from my parents. And Eric gave me a job and trained me in the kitchen while I finished high school. They gave me my own room, even a computer, a phone. I started learning baking recipes from the internet. I moved in with them, in the apartment over Apple Butter, and then just kind of… never left. I think I was always waiting around to figure out where I was supposed to be.”

  “And now,” Michael said. “You’re here.”

  “Yes,” I said. “But, they’ve been teetering on the edge of losing Apple Butter since Nellie’s surgery. This… this ridiculous hot baker contest you’ve put together, it’s my shot at paying them back. At actually giving them something equal to what they gave me—”

  “Sam, I’m sure they don’t even want…”

  I shook my head.

  “I don’t care. I owe them, Michael. They helped me so much. They put me on this path. They helped me find all of this. My whole life. You—”

  My throat closed up again and I fought through it.

  “But I can’t stay,” I sniffed. “I have to go help Nellie.”

  “Well,” Michael said. “Maybe.”

  “What, are you gonna wave your rich guy wand?”

  He shrugged and gave me that beautiful, sure smile that almost, very nearly, made me believe everything could be okay.

  “I may not have to, Sam. Now, let’s get you some dinner. Come on, I’m sure Rei’s worried about you.”

  “Is she worried about me or are you worried about leaving Megan with her?”

  Michael let out a warm chuckle at the thought then said, “You know, I don’t worry about Megan with anyone. That girl looks sweet but damn, she’s tough as hell.”

  As I sighed, a little smile turned up my mouth.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I bet she is.”

  Rei was still right where I left her. Only now she was talking to Megan, Tom, and Maya. Her hands were deep in her back pockets as she told a story about Velvet’s Halloween cupcakes from the year before which made everyone’s poop black. And then, because Velvet was so untouchable, it became a fad. She was cackling by the time I reached them.

  “Hey, Pink Hair,” she said. “You want some sushi?”

  “Oh, I don’t know…”

  “Well, too bad. You’re gonna get some anyway because I’m hungry but I’m not hungry enough to eat a full tray by myself so let’s go.”

  “Go eat,” Michael said, squeezing my shoulder. “It’ll help you feel better. There’s nothing you can do in this exact moment so you need to take care of yourself, okay?”

  I nodded. Then, I let Rei shepherd me into the sushi restaurant next door. Let her talk my ear off about the flavors in her petit fours. Let her make me smile with a joke about Michael’s dick. And the whole time, I left my phone on the table. I don’t know what I was waiting for. A call from Michael? Some divine deliverance from my problems? My poverty? My inability to get close?

  “How will you get back to the mountains?” Rei asked after a long lull.

  “I don’t know. I basically hitchhiked to get here.”

  “Michael would help you,” she said, swiping a piece of sashimi through soy sauce and ignoring the side eye from the sushi chef.

  I shrugged.

  “Sam look. You’re clearly very tragic. I get it. I really do. But… Michael is… how can I put this?”

  She scratched into her hair as she thought and then laid her chopsticks down in a serious, somber manner like she was ready to lay some deep truths on me. She took my hands in her own.

  “Listen. He’s the fucking Cake King. He’s rich as shit and basically the nicest guy ever made and you’ve already
banged him so why not make it official.”

  “Official?”

  “Yeah, whatever the kids do. Get a promise ring or a pin or tattoos or whatever.”

  I snorted into my tea.

  “You have zero idea how relationships work, do you?”

  “No,” Rei admitted. “But neither do you so you might as well try it out.”

  As we headed out of the restaurant, my phone buzzed again.

  Nellie: Thank you so much!!!

  And then a string of pink hearts.

  Sam: What’s going on?

  Nellie: You don’t know?

 

  Nellie: Michael’s sending someone to help until you’re done.

  My jaw might’ve hit the floor right then if we hadn’t walked past Michael, sitting there on the patio with Megan. He jumped up and ran over to me, clasped my shoulders, pulled me close.

  “Do you feel any better?”

  “I—what did you do? Nellie said you’re sending someone.”

  “You need to stay here, Sam. You need to see this through. I can send a friend of mine.”

  I laughed.

  “Some minion? You just pluck them out of their life and ship them off to the mountains to work with Nellie?”

  He looked a little hurt, his eyes going all sad and sincere as he said, “No, Sam. He’s been needing to get back in the kitchen. Trust me, he wants to do this.”

  Tears stung my eyes. I crossed my arms in front of me. Why was this so hard? Why was taking help—taking an offer made in friendship and love—so impossible? Wait… love?

  “Are you sure?” I asked, my voice all cracked and strangled.

  He nodded.

  “Of course. I want to help you and I’m glad I heard about all this before I got on that plane to London.”

  Oh yeah. He was leaving and maybe I would never see him again.

  Unless I won the contest.

  I looked past him to where Megan was still sitting at the metal patio table, talking to Rei.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Michael said.

  “You can say that but… nothing’s changed. If I don’t win this contest, Nellie and Eric will lose Apple Butter and… it’s— they—are my home, Michael. They’re all I’ve got.”