Sugar and Spice

by Roxy Wynn

  Me: No, it’s a brilliant idea. People love pastries. Her shop is popular. She even does wedding cakes! Maybe that’s an angle we could capitalize on.

  Alex: Typical, Jax. I’ll look at the numbers, but no promises.

  Me: Thanks, Al.

  My friendship with Alex was a complicated one to say the least. Years ago, my mother worked for her father as an executive assistant. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but it helped my single mom keep food on the table. Over the years, the two became good friends.

  When mom passed away, Mr. Tyrell was the one who stepped in and made sure I didn’t end up on the streets. He let me stay in his house while I finished my last year of high school, paid for my college, and even funded my time out west as a struggling actor.

  To say I owe him an enormous debt would be an understatement.

  The only thing he asked of me in return was to keep an eye on his daughter, Alex. While it hasn’t always been easy, over the years her and I developed a loose friendship. We’ll never be close, but I love her father too much to avoid her.

  At times I have questioned whether Alex would be a good business partner considering her past indiscretions. The drunken outbursts, the spoiled rich girl behavior, and worst of all, her meddling in my relationships. But then I remember I would be homeless if not for her father.

  Alex isn’t the greatest person on earth, but I promised her dad I would keep my eye on her. I intend to keep my word.

  I may be an asshole, but I’m an asshole that doesn’t break promises.

  That has to account for something, right?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chrissy

  “I am so fucking nervous, I could barf.”

  Last night I did not sleep at all. How could I after getting the lady equivalent of blue balls?

  I won’t lie. After Sarah’s call came in, I thought very hard about abandoning ship on wedding cakes entirely and resigning myself to a life of sex slavery. His shoulders alone were enough to make me want to abandon all of my hopes and dreams.

  The man was like a drug. A very good party drug that few people get to experience.

  When I left his house, I headed straight to the bakery where Sarah and I reviewed the Bride’s requests.

  “She needs five tiers, white Chantilly Lace, and red roses cascading down the side.”

  From Sarah’s description of the woman, I expected a full on Bridezilla. Bossy and willing to throw a toddler style tantrum if she didn’t get her way. As much as I hated bridezillas, this could be the start of something big for us. If I needed to kiss some ass, I could do that for Ruby’s.

  Also, if this chick was prepared to let me lay some business cards on the table, she could do whatever the hell she wanted on her big day.

  “Oh, and she wants it all gluten-free.”

  Suddenly I was concerned my head might explode. My vision went red, and I was filled with anger. “Are you being serious with me right now?” I asked, ready to pounce and strangle Sarah.

  She started chuckling. “No, but you should have seen your face.”

  Bitch.

  Twelve hours and six elaborate sketches later, I was ready to collapse. I stood in the office, notebook in hand, and my most adorable I’m the owner and aren’t I quirky red jumpsuit on. After this, I promised my exhausted body two full days of sleep.

  If Jeff wanted to come over though…

  “Maybe you should have a cinnamon roll,” Sarah said. “They always seem to settle you down.” She was standing in the office door holding the biggest roll from the baking tray. It was dripping with warm cream cheese glaze, and for a second I thought I heard it call my name.

  “No.” My stomach flipped. “I don’t even think I could eat a cinnamon roll right now, that’s how tense I am.”

  “It’ll be okay,” she said. “Just show her your sketches and lets collect a down payment. You are an awesome artist. You earned this.”

  “But what if they hate everything I show them? What then?”

  “Then you draw more. And you can return to having sex with random celebrities.”

  To be fair, that didn’t sound half bad.

  “We haven’t had sex yet.”

  Not for lack of trying.

  As if on cue, the front door opened and in walked a gorgeous dark haired woman followed by two well dressed, older people.

  Taking a big breath and repeating my stay calm mantra in my head, I rounded the corner. “Hi! You must be Priscilla, I’m Chrissy, the co-owner of Ruby’s. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I extended my hand, but Priscilla didn’t reach for it. In fact, she barely glanced in my direction. The older woman standing next to her stepped forward and offered her hand instead.

  “It’s nice to meet you. I am Mrs. Calloway, Priscilla’s mother, and this is Stephen.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Calloway,” I said.

  He took my hand in his before correcting me. “Actually the name is Smith. Stephen Smith. I’m the groom.” He turned and put his arm around the younger of the two women. Priscilla scowled.

  I smiled.

  Good lord, I thought for sure he was her dad.

  “My mistake. Well, let’s take a seat and I’ll show you some sketches I’ve whipped up based on Priscilla’s vision.”

  Considering she was the bride, Priscilla had a surprising lack of interest in her cake. Instead, her mother, Mrs. Calloway, was the one making the final decisions. I displayed all six of the designs I spoiled my date for, to the amazement of Mrs. Calloway and Mr. Smith. In the end, they chose the third sketch I presented, and paid a hefty deposit.

  “So we will see you on Wednesday at three for the tasting?” I asked, escorting them to the exit.

  “Yes. Three sharp, we are very much looking forward to it. Aren’t we Lovey?” Stephen responded, his arm cradling the woman I was now convinced was less than half his age.

  With a thick Russian accent, she finally spoke. “Yes.”

  “Great. We look forward to seeing you then. Bye!”

  Sarah and I watched Mr Smith helping his young bride into the back seat of his car while his soon to be mother-in-law rode shotgun.

  “What do you think that was about?” Sarah asked.

  “I don’t know. My guess is an arranged marriage. Or some kind of weird kidnapping scheme where the kidnapped girl gets to marry into an affluent family.”

  “Do you think they’re looking for volunteers? Because I would go willingly if that was the case.”

  I watched her unravel one long, gooey end of the cinnamon roll and put it into her mouth, never taking her eyes off the weird couple.

  “Hey, that’s mine.” I took the plate from her and headed to the office. “I thought you said she was a bridezilla? She barely spoke.”

  “Well I only talked to her on the phone. But seeing them in person, it had to have been Mrs. Calloway I spoke with yesterday. Also, did you notice Priscilla had an accent, and she didn’t?”

  “Yeah, that was super weird.”

  Sarah took a breath before continuing. “Strange family dynamics aside, WE GOT A WEDDING CAKE!”

  Like a couple of little girls with a crush, Sarah and I held hands and jumped around the room happily. One of our bakers stared into the office, concerned.

  “This is it. This is the first step to Ruby’s being on the Food Network. I just know it,” she said. She paced the small office, head in the clouds, imagining how rich we could be. “Only instead of Chrissy Hayes, it’ll be Chrissy Jaxon running the show.”

  “I haven’t even had one proper date with the guy, and you’re already planning the wedding?”

  “Oh, come on, they way you described what happened last night, you two are crazy about each other.”

  “Well I know we are crazy about sex, but what if he’s just another chubby chaser?”

  She whipped her head around and let out a loud laugh. “He is not! And where the hell did you ever hear that term? I kind of love it.”

  “It was in a movie I saw on
ce. But, chubby chasing aside, he does look too good to be true.” Leaning back in my chair, I twirled around a few times.

  “If he’s really as perfect as he seems, maybe we could make something work. I just don’t know how the whole dating process works.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “In case you forgot, he is a celebrity. Everyone on the planet has seen him in his underwear. I internet stalked him and he has, like, six different fan sites. Those bitches are loco.”

  I picked cinnamon roll apart in my pursuit of the gooey center. “You wouldn’t believe how many women on those sites refer to him as their husband. And how brutal they were over the pictures of his previous girlfriends.”

  “I would believe it. I’m into this folk singer right now named Alfie Lane. He’s small potatoes and already has a rabid fan base of creepy older women. It’s sad really.”

  “Don’t they have anything better to do than to obsess over men they will never even meet in real life?” I asked.

  “Maye not, but you met him and you are every bit as normal as the web fans.”

  “You mean, clueless when a celebrity approaches me and tries to get me into bed?”

  “Exactly.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jax

  As if on cue, the courier arrived at my trailer as soon as I got to set. The stack of script changes looked intense.

  “I stayed up all night running lines on the old script, makes sense Jake decided to change things up,” I said with a grin.

  The guy smiled back and handed me a stack of papers one could have mistaken for an entire novel.

  “Sorry Mr. Jaxon,” he said. No matter how normal it was for last-minute rewrites, I still never got used to it.

  “By the way, are you feeling any better?”

  I almost forgot I was supposed to be playing sick. It was the reason I got the night off for my failed date. “Yes, much better thanks. Just a twenty-four-hour thing. I feel great now.”

  “Good,” he said. “Because I think they are planning on the love scene after lunch.”

  Well, that timing couldn’t be worse.

  “Thanks for the heads up.”

  I used to hate filming love scenes when I first started Dark Night. Having to mimic a sex act with a gorgeous actress terrified me. My main concern was a stray erection, but as time went on, I realized that kind of thing rarely happened. The real problem was how uncomfortable and embarrassing the whole charade was. Between the painful dick guard and the room full of people watching, sex scenes were a pain in the ass to shoot.

  Of course, six seasons later, and Drake has seen more pussy than Ron Jeremy, so I learned to live with it.

  After my close call with Chrissy in my kitchen last night, I hoped I could keep myself together. The amount of sexual energy running through my blood was at a boiling point. It seemed like I could still taste her if I licked my lips, and that wasn’t good if I needed to film a scene without getting aroused. If I got a stray boner today, the crew would never let me live it down.

  If only that call hadn’t interrupted and we could have been together. It wouldn’t have solved every problem, but it sure would have made this afternoon a hell of a lot easier.

  I glanced at my watch and decided to kill a few minutes by calling Chrissy. It wasn’t a good idea considering I was trying to get my mind off her and sex, but I wanted to know how everything went. If I couldn’t have her, I wanted to know she sealed the deal on that god damned cake.

  “Hello?” A very tired voice answered.

  God, she sounded cute.

  “Hey, were you asleep?” I asked.

  I wonder what she’s wearing…

  “Maybe just a little.”

  “Just a little? How did your wedding cake meeting go? Did you get it?” I was almost as excited for her as she was for herself. I hated that she left so abruptly, but the way her eyes lit up when she told me made it worthwhile.

  Almost.

  “Oh man, she loved all the sketches. Well… her mother did… the whole thing was weird, but the important take away is that they handed us a huge check.”

  “That’s amazing, Chrissy. I’m thrilled for you.”

  “Thanks, it’s a dream come true.”

  “I’ll let you get back to sleep, I just wanted to see how everything went.” I adjusted myself in my jeans again. Shooting today would be a long and uncomfortable affair. “I also wanted to find out when I can see you again.”

  “Mmmm….” I heard her shuffle in her bed. “I’m down for just about whenever. But the sooner the better.”

  “I have to make up for calling in sick last night, but how about tomorrow? Maybe we throw your cell phone away and then I make you dinner.”

  While I’m not the best cook, I could hold my own in the kitchen and I had no qualms inviting her over again. Thanks to my foodie mother, I knew my way around a steak.

  “You’re telling me you’re handsome and you cook? What else do you do?” she asked. She sounded a little more awake now.

  “I don’t cook a lot, but you inspired me to give it another shot.” I almost fucked up and told her about the brewpub idea Alex and I had been working on, but stopped myself before the words poured out. I didn’t want her to know that the only reason I stepped foot in Ruby’s that day was to scope the building out. That would only serve to hurt her feelings and make her distrust me.

  And besides, I made up my mind, we weren’t buying that building anymore. If we found another property we liked, then I would tell her all about it. Maybe she could even help us with the dessert menu.

  “You know me, I’m always down for a good dinner… and an even better dessert.” Her words took me by surprise, but were very welcome. Hearing the low timbre of her voice gave me goosebumps.

  “I know you are. You won’t be able to walk when you’re done with the dessert I have planned.”

  “Ok, you got me. Now I’m wide awake. Lets do this now, your place or mine?” she asked. Now she was very alert.

  I laughed. “Well I have to finish some scenes today. Love scene included, before we can get to dessert.”

  “A love scene, huh? Who is the lucky lady? Should I be jealous?”

  I grimaced. “Melody Mane. You met her the other day. And no.”

  “The busty red head with the white powder on her nose? I wouldn’t go so far as to say we met, but she did look in my general direction when I offered her a scone. I mean, she was blasted so maybe she didn’t really see me. She probably thinks I’m a ghost or something.”

  You have no idea how right you are.

  “The one and only. As soon as this scene is done, I plan to go home and start planning a romantic evening for two.”

  “Sounds lovely.” The exhaustion slipped back into her words.

  “I’m going to go and get this shoot done. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “And Chrissy?”

  “Yeah?” She asked.

  “I’m really happy you got your cake order, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

  “You’re too good to be true,” she said, hanging up her phone.

  I panicked. How would I pull this off? If Alex didn’t budge on the building, the only compromise I could think of was, we buy the building and leave Ruby’s untouched. The building was enormous. There was plenty of space inside for the bakery on one end, and the brewpub on the other. It was the only way I could see myself having my cake and eating it too.

  There was no doubt Ruby’s was a brilliant addition to the block. With the brewpub to bring music and other food options to the area, maybe they could even afford to stay open later.

  I texted Alex again.

  Me: Hey, did you run the numbers on a bakery?

  Alex: I did. Bakeries don’t make money unless they’re niche.

  Me: Niche?

  Alex: Yeah. Is it a gluten-free or allergy friendly establishment? That’s where the big money is.

  I thought back to al
l the times Chrissy mentioned the gluten-free fad almost destroying her business.

  Me: No. It’s just a regular old bakery. But wedding cakes are niche, right?

  Alex: Jeff, no one cares about wedding cakes in 2020. Ten years ago they were all over T.V., but people are over it now.

  Damn it, she had a point. Even if she got popular doing wedding cakes, they would need to expand considerably if they planned on retiring.

  Me: Well, keep looking in to it. This one means something.

  We both knew I meant Chrissy and not the bakery.

  Alex: Listen, I’m trying to be open minded here, but I have a lot riding on this. I’m not a big T.V. star like you, remember?

  Me: I know. I’m just… working on it. I’m doing my best.

  Alex: Well, do better. This building is the one. I met with the owners this morning. Let’s get together Monday and discuss this in person.

  That’s right, Alex arrived in Mont Clare this morning.

  Great, just great.

  Me: It’s not a fling. She’s the real deal.

  Alex: They’re all the real deal. Get in her pants and then move on like you do with everyone else. Monday, meet me for breakfast at the Hilton and bring the business plans.

  I tossed my phone on to the couch. Sure, my track record with women wasn’t stellar, but calling Chrissy a fling didn’t sit right with me. Chrissy was different. She was an a warm person with a sassy attitude, and I couldn’t get enough of her.

  Knowing that Alex was in town made things tougher. I had to keep the two women apart until we figured the building situation out, and Alex had her talons locked on to another project.

  The last thing I needed was for her to ruin things with Chrissy.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chrissy

  If I thought I had butterflies the first time I went to Jeff’s house, tonight felt like elephants stomped around inside of me.

  I wore a teal wrap dress that hugged my curves, and a pair of strappy black heels. The dress was cut just above the knees, showing off my long legs, and the amount of cleavage I had on display might be considered a little too much in regular situations.