Bachelor at Her Bidding (Bachelor Auction Book 2)(41)

But he couldn’t think of any other way to show her his heart other than by doing what he did best. His passion. And maybe if he sent her a box of dessert every day, she’d realize just how serious he was. He could write her a message on the cake, or he could make something for her, the kind of exquisite creation he’d worked on in Paris, and write his message on a chocolate slate.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. So he called in to Copper Mountain Chocolates with a special request for Sage. “I need some dark chocolate – something I can temper myself.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you going into competition with me, Ry?”

“Nothing like that.” He shook his head. “It’s personal.”

“Personal?”

“I’m trying to apologize to someone.”

“To Rachel, you mean,” she corrected.

Well, he should’ve guessed that the town would be talking about them. The fact that they still weren’t on good terms even after he’d turned up at her office with an armful of flowers made it obvious they’d had a fight. “Yes.”

Sage gestured to her chocolates. “These usually work for most apology purposes in Marietta.”

“And your salted caramels are on a par with those in any Parisian chocolate shop,” Ryan said, “but this needs to be a bit more personal. I need to prove that I’m not trying to buy my way back into her heart – that I’m putting the effort in and it means something to me. Which is why I need chocolate to temper.”

“Now I’m intrigued,” Sage said.

And maybe it wouldn’t hurt to run the idea past someone female, see what her reaction was. “I’m going to apologize through cake,” he explained.

“Like that amazing croquembouche you made her for her birthday?”

“Something like that. I plan to make her a different cake every day until she forgives me. That’s why I need the chocolate – I want to make a dark chocolate slate to go with each cake and write a message on it in white chocolate.”

To his relief, she smiled. “I like your style, Ry. That’s a nice idea.”

“It’s not horribly cheesy?” he checked.

“You’re a pastry chef who trained in Paris. You’re showing her your heart in cake, much like I would in developing a chocolate for someone,” she said. “Let me know how it goes – and good luck with getting her to forgive you. Rachel’s nice. I think you two are good together.”

“We were, until I messed up,” he said wryly.

“Then you’d better make those cakes real showstoppers,” Sage said, and found him the chocolate he needed.

Back in his kitchen, Ryan tempered the chocolate. It was a while since he’d last done anything like this; he’d made the little chocolate “signatures” for the Parisian restaurant where he’d worked, making sheets of chocolate and then putting logos on them with an edible transfer sheet before cutting out perfect ovals. This would be easier because he wouldn’t have to mess about with the transfer sheet first.

He melted the chocolate, then poured two-thirds of it onto a marble slab and spread it thinly, scooping the chocolate back with a putty knife and respreading it until it was at the consistency he wanted before stirring it back into the remainder of the melted chocolate. Once he was happy with the texture, he spread it onto baking parchment in a thin, even layer, and cleaned up the kitchen until the chocolate had set enough for him to work with but not hard enough to crack. Then he cut it into neat labels and transferred all the labels to another sheet of baking parchment to finish firming up completely.

So far, so good.

But what kind of cake would win Rachel’s heart?

*

On Monday morning, Rachel walked into her office. As usual, Shannon had left her mail neatly stacked on her desk.

But what Rachel hadn’t been expecting was the white box sitting in the middle of her blotter.

It looked like a cake box. But it wasn’t anyone’s birthday in the practice, so who had left it for her? A grateful patient, perhaps?

Curious, she opened the box to discover something that looked more like a work of art than a cake. She’d eaten éclairs before – pastry stuffed with cream and with chocolate glazing on the top that had usually run down the sides a little before setting. But this had glaze so perfect and with such sharp edges that it looked as if it had been painted on. It wasn’t chocolate, either; it was the color of fresh copper, topped with a sprinkle of something gold-colored.

She knew without having to ask who had sent it. Made it, she corrected herself mentally; there was only one person she knew who was capable of making something like this.

Not wanting her patients to overhear, she picked up the phone. “Shannon, can I have a quick word in my office, please?”

“Sure.” Within moments, the receptionist was at her door.

“Close the door, please,” Rachel said.

Shannon did so and frowned. “Is something wrong?”

Rachel pointed to the box. “What do you know about this?”

“Ryan brought it in this morning first thing.” Shannon came closer and peeked into the open box. “Oh, my. That looks almost too good to eat.” She glanced at the silver cake-board. “And there’s a message for you on that label, by the look of it.”