Fake It Till You Bake It(29)

Mr. Till sniffed. “I’ll be the judge of that.” Yeah, Donovan could see how he and Jada had bonded. He tapped his fingers on the counter while Donovan completed his order. “You play chess?”

“A little.” Donovan slid the box across the counter.

“Good to know.” Mr. Till gave him a look that said maybe Donovan wasn’t a total loser.

“Mr. Till said if he liked the cupcakes, he’d bring his chess buddies in,” Jada said.

Mr. Till pointed a gnarled finger at her. “I said I might, young lady. You’ve got a long way to go before that happens.” He paid for his purchase and shuffled to a table in the corner of the shop.

The bell over the front door dinged. A woman wearing an expensive-looking, sleeveless, black-and-white-striped dress entered.

Jada raised her hand in a wave. “Carrie!”

Donovan blinked. “Wait. You know her, too?”

“Yes,” she hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

“What are you doing here?” the fashionable woman asked when she reached the counter.

“I work here,” Jada answered cheerfully.

“Oh, cool.” Carrie’s brow furrowed. “Are you okay after what happened the other day?”

What happened the other day?

Jada waved away Carrie’s concern. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

Her smile and tone were so chipper, Donovan almost believed her. Almost.

Carrie glanced over her shoulder, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Did you see that interview Dr. John did with Extra? He says he misses you.”

Who the hell was Dr. John?

“No, I missed that,” Jada said, her voice still so sunny Donovan almost believed he’d misread the stricken look that had flashed across her face at the mention of that John guy. “How can we help you?” she added quickly, stepping around behind the counter to stand next to Donovan, bringing her gentle and always intoxicating scent with her.

Carrie flipped her long brown hair behind her shoulder. “I’m not sure. I usually go old-school and get chocolate, but today I thought I’d try something different to celebrate some good news. What do you suggest?”

Jada eyed the case for a second. “Well, we do have a new s’mores flavor today that gives you the comfort of chocolate with a little extra flavor.”

The woman’s eyes brightened. “Ooh, that sounds delicious. Give me half a dozen to take back to the store.”

Donovan gave himself a mental fist pump. Jada packaged up the cupcakes while he rang up the sale.

“Now that I know you work here, I’ll make sure to stop by more often and spread the word,” Carrie said. A minute later, another satisfied customer, who hopefully would keep her promise to bring more, left. If only there were more satisfied customers. He looked around the store. Still too many empty tables. Business was steady, but slow. Slow and steady was not going to win this race. He sighed.

“You okay?” Jada asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Sharing his problems wasn’t his way to begin with, and burdening someone he’d known for less than a week didn’t strike him as fair. Hell, maybe she would think a slow trickle of customers was normal and wouldn’t ask any questions he didn’t want to answer. “You really liked those s’mores cupcakes, huh?”

“I did. They were so good.” Her head tilted to the side in contemplation. “But I think in addition to how delicious they were, they made me remember how every summer, my parents would pack my sister and me off to camp for two weeks. I loved those weeks. I was just Jada there with none of the expectations that came with my everyday life.” A soft smile touched her red lips. “I remember the first time I made a s’more. It was messy and fun. I got marshmallows and chocolate everywhere. I burned my marshmallow to a crisp—don’t say anything—but no one cared. It was charred but so good because of it. Then the graham crackers broke in half and I just scooped everything up and stuffed it all in my mouth. Good times.”

She’d lived with expectations so high that making s’mores counted as one of her favorite memories? Wow. What was the story there?

“So yeah, I’m going to hand-sell these bad boys to anyone who will listen,” Jada said, pointing to the case. “Nicholas promised to make me an extra batch so I can gorge on them in the privacy of my own home.” She held up a hand. “And yes, I’m going to buy them.”

Was he that obvious? Well, he was trying to run a business, so no apologies would be forthcoming. Her smile—natural, wide, and bright—stunned him. She was teasing him. Maybe they had turned a corner. And why did the thought of that make him feel like he’d conquered a mountain? That he could accomplish whatever he set his mind to?



* * *



“How can we help you?” Jada asked the blond woman who stepped up to the counter a few hours later. The customer was dressed in a slim skirt with a button-down shirt tucked into the waistband.

Jada was falling into a rhythm. Ella had done a good job training her. It wasn’t that hard pulling cupcakes out of the case, but she enjoyed talking to the customers about why today was the day they needed a cupcake and helping them select the perfect flavor. She did have the gift of gab, if nothing else. The blonde, who’d spent a little too much time in the tanning booth, stared back at her through wire-framed glasses.