Fake It Till You Bake It(62)

She wasn’t going to tip over the proverbial apple cart for someone who hadn’t indicated he looked at her as someone other than an annoying friend or fake girlfriend. They were friends, and that was okay. She needed friends, and he’d been there for her as she embarked on this new chapter in her life. Operation: Jada Gets Her Life Together was still in effect. And that was that. She focused on her customers. “What are you in the mood for?”

“I’ll take a pumpkin swirl,” Gwen said.

“I’ll have a peanut butter chocolate,” Tracy said. “Give me the biggest one in the case. If I’m going to add back all those calories I burned off working out, I’m going to do it in style.”

Jada laughed and rang up their order. “Enjoy, ladies.”

They took their goodies and headed to one of the few available tables.

Jada scanned the store with eager eyes. Most of the tables were filled with customers happily munching on cupcakes and sipping coffee or lemonade. A stark contrast from her first few days at the shop. And it was due, in large part, to her—some unintentional, but a lot intentional. Her work had brought in new customers who were turning into repeat customers. In addition to the book club meeting and bachelorette party, they’d held a singles night, pairing people based on their favorite cupcakes, and a couple of birthday parties, all fun and successful. This weird feeling flowing through her veins, giving her energy, was pride.

She lowered her head to check the display case. They were running low on vanilla cupcakes. Today’s special—mocha fudge—was selling briskly, but they’d restocked less than an hour ago, so they should be good for a while. Only five peanut butter chocolate cupcakes left. They needed more of those, too, or else Katrina, who came in every day to buy cupcakes for her workers at her design firm as an afternoon treat, would not be happy.

Jada froze. Something was different. Maybe even wrong? The quiet din of conversation permeating the shop a few seconds ago had died a sudden death. Jada raised her head. And gasped.

Dr. John Timmerman, the star of My One and Only, was standing at the entrance of the store, surveying the interior. And everyone had noticed. The quiet disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Loud whispers and clicks of camera phones filled the air.

John’s perusal stopped when he spotted her. A confident smile spread across his handsome face and he marched toward her with long, purposeful strides. There was no doubt he was a striking man. The other contestants had all flipped when he was introduced to them, delighted the show had managed to secure such a photogenic star. He was about six feet tall, a few inches shorter than Donovan. He had the muscular physique of a man who spent plenty of time in the gym and lived off boiled chicken and rice.

His teeth were white and perfect. His face was perfectly symmetrical. A sharp nose hovered over lips that were neither too thin nor too full. Dark brown skin stretched over high cheekbones. He had long eyelashes plenty of women, including Jada, paid plenty of money to replicate.

He was perfect.

She’d rejected him on national TV.

And he was here.

Her heart, which had stopped beating when she first spotted him, started pounding again at three times its resting rate.

What was he doing here?

“What are you doing here?” she blurted out when he stopped in front of the counter.

He laughed the booming laugh that sounded so great on camera. “There’s the Jada I’ve missed so much.”

What was he doing here? Had he come to curse her out for dumping him on national TV now that the shock of her rejection had worn off? She offered up a smile, though the muscles in her face mightily resisted her efforts. “You know me. I’m a riot.”

Her lunch roiled in her stomach. Sushi was not a good choice when you were about to experience major upheaval. But maybe that wasn’t about to occur. She needed to remain positive.

His smile hadn’t faded. “I drove down from L.A.”

Jada blinked in surprise. “Aren’t you from Minnesota?” He’d talked often about his All-American Midwest upbringing on the show and how much he loved the Twin Cities, snow and all.

He propped a hip on the counter like he planned to stay there for a while. “I moved to California a few weeks ago. Gotta take advantage of the opportunities that come with being on the show. I took a leave of absence from my practice. I can always go back if things don’t work out.”

“Oh. Right.” She couldn’t blame him. After all, “exploring opportunities” had been her primary reason for going on the show.

John hadn’t stopped blinding her with his white teeth. Of course, he could just be waiting to lure her into a false sense of security before dropping the hammer. Yes, there was nothing in her contract with the show that said she was obligated to accept a marriage proposal if asked, but it was expected. The lead didn’t go on the show to be embarrassed.

She gripped her hands together behind her back, while she struggled to think of something else to say. There was no one to rescue her. Ella’s shift hadn’t started, and the owners were in other parts of the bakery. Yelling for help seemed uncouth. She dropped her hands and squared her shoulders. Besides, she didn’t need any help. She was Jada Townsend-Matthews, hear her roar. Or something. “How can I help you? Did you want a cupcake?”

He didn’t look at the display case. “You’re really working here, huh? Wow. Social media knows all, but some part of me still found it hard to believe.”