Hometown Hero
Susan Scott Shelley
Copyright 2018 Susan Scott Shelley
ISBN: 978-1-944220-34-1
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
About the Author
Susan's Books
CHAPTER ONE
Off-season or not, a player didn't ignore a summons from the team owner.
Xavier Brennan walked through the halls of the Philadelphia Frenzy's facility, not quite ready to be back. The losing season—one of the worst in team history—was still too fresh in his mind.
Three months post-season, the sting had begun to fade. Time to focus on the future.
What could Mr. Mills possibly want to discuss? It was barely the beginning of May. Mandatory mini-camp and training camp were still months away. His contract was already squared away. Unless the owner wanted to talk more about those losses. Although, their abysmal record and how the football team could do better during the next season had already been discussed incessantly by his teammates, the front office, the fans, and football commentators everywhere.
The five teammates waiting outside Mills' office piqued his curiosity further. An odd mix: a linebacker, a wide receiver, a running back, a quarterback, a safety. And himself. Why would Mills want to see all of them?
"Boys." He nodded at the group. "Anyone have any idea what's going on?"
Everson Montgomery—linebacker, his best friend on the team, and his brother's boyfriend—shrugged. "Don't know. Didn't realize you got the call too."
The office door opened and Mr. Mills waved them inside the plush room. "Gentlemen. I guess you're wondering why I asked you to come in."
Xavier let Tyson Williams enter first. The quarterback was their leader. But he sat right beside him in front of Mills' desk. Sinking into the soft leather chair, he addressed Mills with an easy smile. "Let me guess. You missed us?"
Laughing, Mr. Mills leaned forward, tapping his pen on the desk blotter. "Not quite. I've been in talks with Food TV. As you may or may not know, my daughter is vice president of programming there. They'll be here in Philly broadcasting live during the Food and Wine Festival in June. They'd already planned to hold a baking competition, and they reached out to the league and me to make it even better. That's where you come in."
"A baking competition?" Xavier stared at the owner in disbelief. "I'm a tight end, not a baker. I couldn't bake a cake even if Betty Crocker herself was helping me and doing half the work."
Most of his teammates echoed his statement. But Mills held up a hand, pausing their protests. "It's for a good cause. They're partnering with Cakes Against Cancer, and each of you will be paired up with a professional baker."
"But, why did you pick us?" He jerked his thumb to his right to include his fellow teammates.
"Out of everyone on the team, you're the ones who are involved with specific charities, or you have your own foundations, and frankly, you choose to live here year-round. We'll have thirteen players taking part. My secretary is contacting your other teammates to see who can be in the city during the competition. We do realize it's the off-season and a lot of you are resting up or taking vacations or may just want a break from anything team-related right now. One-hundred-thousand dollars will go to the winning team. Fifty thousand will go to the winning bakery and fifty thousand to your foundation or the charity of your choice."
"If it's for charity, I'm in." As uncomfortable as it would make him, he'd do it. Fifty grand could do a lot of good. "What do we have to do?"
"There will be three rounds spread out over a long weekend. The festival runs Thursday through Sunday." Mr. Mills glanced at the paperwork on his desk. "The network has selected the local bakeries that will be working with you. The bakers had to film a short video to audition, and are still waiting to see if they've made the final cut. I tried to make it as easy as I could for you. My secretary figured out which bakery was the closest to each of your homes and paired you up that way."
Xavier sat back, letting his teammates ask questions. Losing eleven games the previous season hadn't sat well with the fans. Or the team. Maybe the competition would help in that regard too. Some fun and fluff to take out the sting. And participating in something unique like this was a good team-building activity. He glanced around the room. His teammates were stand-up guys on and off the field. Working on something together wouldn't be an issue. No divas or problem teammates here. "You said they'll be filming this?"
Mr. Mills nodded. "It'll be broadcast live during the festival. The network will also include it in their line up a few times during the first week of the new season."
A baking competition on a channel geared toward foodies wasn't quite the same as landing a national endorsement deal, but the chance to reach millions of people who otherwise might not be watching him on any given Sunday, and talk about his foundation and donations for cancer research, there wasn't any downside. Unless he embarrassed himself. He was known for having great hands on the field. What if those skills didn't transfer to the kitchen? Saying yes right away, before he'd had all the details, suddenly didn't seem like the brightest idea. "A live broadcast doesn't leave any room for errors."
Tyson elbowed him in the arm. The veteran player's eyes were brimming with humor. "Relax. Most people wouldn't expect a pro athlete to be good at baking."
"Exactly," Mr. Mills agreed. "This is an easy way to hopefully grow our fan base and help you gain exposure for your charities and foundations."
His teammates were all signing on and saying yes. And a side bet between a few of them was already taking place. No one else seemed worried. But then again, no one else in the room had experienced clawing their way back from nearly ruining their reputation and their football career. "All right. Let's do it."
Mr. Mills passed out sheets of paper. "The network also thought it would be, and I quote, fun if each player would either call their bakery partner or show up at their stores to surprise them with the news that they're a finalist. You'll find their contact information on this list."
Xavier scanned the list for his name. "I'll be working with Ashley Yates of Bliss Bakery."
Cute name. After the season they'd had, he could use some bliss.
"If you can, make the call or stop by today or tomorrow. The network will be contacting them as well with an official statement. All information will be on Food TV's site by the end of the week." Mr. Mills stood, signaling the end of the meeting. "Thank you, gentlemen. Your commitment to this team hasn't gone unnoticed."
Pocketing the paper, Xavier walked out with Tyson and Everson. "Well, I wasn't expecti
ng that at all."
"I know. I'm just glad Mills wasn't chewing us out for something." Tyson palmed his keys, confident as always. "What's the worst that could happen? We could win some dough, and we get to play with dough for a few days."
Xavier wasn't convinced. "Or we could burn what we're making and set fire to the Convention Center."
Everson tossed a friendly arm over his shoulder. "No publicity is bad publicity, right?"
"Not sure about that." He followed them out of the building and into the spring sunshine. The contact information for Bliss Bakery burned a hole in his pocket and discomfort pricked like a needle along his skin. He wouldn't feel better until he learned more about the baker selected as his partner. Or how she felt about having an extra cook, namely him, in her kitchen.
More than anything, he needed to do well. A win would be a big success for his foundation. That prize money would go a long way, and he needed all the help he could get.
Time would only tell whether taking part in the competition would be a recipe for success or end in disaster.
CHAPTER TWO
The smoke alarm's ear-splitting wail jolted Ashley out of her office. She tore into the kitchen. Smoke billowed out of an open stove, and the choking fog filled the cheerful yellow room. Her sister stood below the alarm, fanning the air with an olive green oven mitt.
Wincing at the deafening chirp, Ashley clambered onto a nearby stool and yanked the batteries from the device. Quiet surged into the room. She peered down at her sister and accepted a hand as she hopped to the floor. "Katie? What's going on? You're supposed to be operating the register."
Katie pushed the bakery's heavy back door open and gulped breaths of fresh air. "There's been a lull for hours, and since the bells hanging on the door will alert us to customers anyway, I came back here. I wanted to surprise you with a new recipe."
Nothing smelled as bad as burnt cookies. Ashley squinted at the charred circles lining the baking sheets. "You succeeded in scaring five years off my life."
Her sister's brown eyes rounded as she studied the mess. "Looks like the jam in the centers ran out of the cookies and dripped onto the oven's coils."
Swallowing a sigh was easier than swallowing her frustration. Of course, this would happen right after she'd finished cleaning the ovens earlier in the week, and right as she was in the middle of trying to pay bills with a dwindling bank account. Stress on top of stress on top of stress. "Fabulous. Scrubbing away this mess will absolutely make my day."
Katie rolled her eyes and then waved Ashley away from the oven. "Relax. I'll do it. I'm the one who didn't keep an eye on the cookies. You need to leave soon anyway."
The reminder shifted Ashley's focus away from the burned bits and worries of needing to purchase new baking sheets. "Did you finish boxing up the cake?"
A nod, followed by a smile, and two thumbs up. "Boxed, bagged, and ready to go. I think the senior center's baking club will appreciate all the sugar flowers. You did a great job."
The image of the baking club elevated her mood. "I love visiting them for deliveries and demonstrations, it's an entire room of instant grandmas."
The phone's ringing interrupted the quiet and set her stomach on edge. The ring used to signify excited customers, but the past few months, it rang less and less, all thanks to the brand new bakery that opened two blocks away. But the finalists for Cakes Against Cancer were due to be announced any day now. If she could get in... and win... she could save her mother's legacy. She raised her brows at Katie and dove for the phone.
But her sister was closer and snatched the receiver. "Bliss Bakery... Hi, Mrs. Somerton. Have you decided on an idea for Chrissy's sweet sixteen party? Yes, I understand... I hope we'll be able to help you out next time. I know you've got a big anniversary coming up... I see... Goodbye."
Ashley clutched the counter. Their customers were dropping faster than a hot pot from an uncovered hand. "Seriously? She's been talking about having us make Chrissy's sweet sixteen cake for years."
Katie sighed and set the receiver down. "All of Chrissy's classmates are using Blackstone's Bakery for their parties, so Chrissy wants them too. Why did they have to put their shop so close to ours?"
"Being on that reality show gave them a big publicity push. But yeah, I hate that they're so close by. Our little corner of South Philly doesn't need two bakeries within two blocks of each other." Ashley crossed to the mixer, her mother's mixer. No matter what she tried, they couldn't seem to compete against the bigger bakery in the next block. She'd lowered prices, ran specials, and tucked extra samples into orders. What hadn't they tried? The worry had sucked all the life out of her creativity.
Biting her lip, Katie wandered closer. "I've been thinking. I can leave school and move back here."
"No." Ashley shook her head. "You need to finish. You promised Mom that you would."
"But I don't want you feeling like you have to handle this all on your own." Concern darkened her sister's gaze. "You had to let your assistants go, and you're on your own. It doesn't seem fair."
"We'll be fine. I promise." Ashley forced a smile for Katie's sake, but the ball of uneasiness in her stomach wouldn't dissolve.
Katie gripped the oven mitt, her expression worried and unsure. "I wish Mom were here, she'd know what to do."
Losing the bakery would be like losing their mom a second time. Ashley hugged her sister. Without her mother, Katie was all the family she had left.
They'd endured much drama together during the last two years, during their mother's illness and... afterward. Her sister didn't need anything new to worry about. Ashley kept the knowledge of the loan application to herself. "We'll figure it out. Mom worked so hard to make the bakery successful. We'll find a way to keep it going. For now, you get started on cleaning the oven. I need to get over to the senior center."
She picked up the bag containing the cake box and grabbed a second bag that held her supplies for the baking demonstration.
With a wave goodbye, she stepped outside. Air warmed by springtime greeted her. She lifted her face to the sunlight and inhaled the sweet smell of hyacinth wafting from the large pot outside the bakery door.
Bliss Bakery wouldn't fail. Not on her watch.
The lunchtime rush crowded the busy South Philadelphia streets. Ashley stood with her face lifted to the sky, wishing she could walk the ten blocks to the senior center instead of drive. She could really use the time to calm down and think about what to do to save the bakery, away from Katie's worried eyes. They'd already sold the artwork, and furniture Mom had left them. Ashley refused to part with the few pieces of jewelry she had left. That bank loan had to come through...
Turning from the store, she froze. A large Rottweiler bounded down the street, heading straight for her, its red leash trailing in the wind. Pulse racing, she shifted closer to the building, but the dog altered its path and jumped. Large paws hit her shoulders and knocked her backward onto the sidewalk.
She lost her grip on her bags. Everything fell to the ground with a loud smack. Her rolling pin spilled out of the bag and spun into the street. The dog nosed the glossy yellow cake box. Its lid popped open, filling the air with the sweet scent of buttercream and vanilla. Broken pieces of cake and demolished sugar flowers stuck to the insides of the box. Smeared icing clung to the lid amid crumbled remains of the carefully crafted flowers.
"No!" Panic and despair covered common sense, and Ashley reached her fingers inches from the dog's mouth and grabbed the cake box. She held it out toward her other side but the dog lunged across her body, and his face landed on the crushed cake.
"Rocky! No! Come here!" A deep, rich voice yelled over the sound of sneakers smacking the pavement. The man attached to the voice grabbed hold of the dog's collar and tugged Rocky's body off of her. His other hand held a ragged half of the dog's leash. Tucking the leash into his pocket, he knelt beside her. "I'm so sorry. His leash snapped. Are you okay?"
"I don't think anything's broken." Tearing her g
aze from the straining dog, Ashley accepted his owner's outstretched hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
She pushed her hair out of her eyes. The baking supplies lay scattered on the cement.
Wanting to scream or cry in frustration, she turned back to the stranger. Her gaze traveled up his long, jeans-clad legs, over the broad T-shirt encased torso, to rest on his attractive face. Eyes the color of green jade looked into hers. Goosebumps pebbled her skin as recognition dawned. He looked familiar. Her mind raced, trying to place him.
He glanced at the remains of the cake in the box. Then at the logo on the box, then at the matching logo on her bag and jacket. "Oh no. Wait... Bliss Bakery? Please tell me you're not Ashley."
She narrowed her eyes. "I am."
He rubbed his hand over his face. "I'm Xavier Brennan. I play football for the Philadelphia Frenzy."
Now she knew who he was. But how did he know who she was? "I didn't recognize you right away. Not out of uniform and away from the field. I'm sorry, have we met?"
A winning smile lit up his face. "I'm here to officially let you know that you're one of the finalists in Cakes Against Cancer."
Elation exploded like a firecracker. She nearly hugged him. "Oh my goodness. That's amazing. I can't believe it."
"I just came from meeting with my team owner. The team is working with Food TV. He thought this would be a cool way for us to meet." He dipped his head, almost shy. "Since I'll be your partner."
"Partner?" She blinked. There hadn't been anything listed about having a partner. Certainly not a member of the city's pro football team. Nor one who had made headlines with his off-season antics.
"The team owner's daughter works for the network. I'm guessing that's how pairing up with players happened. You and I will be teammates. The grand prize for the bakery is still fifty grand, so you don't have to worry about having to split that. I'm playing for my foundation. An additional fifty grand will go to the winning player's foundation or preferred charity."
The dog barked twice and banged its head against her legs. She stepped back, unprepared for its strength.
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