Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Fletch
“Fuck, these are really good,” Dalton practically moans as he finishes an eggnog cookie.
“Can we just get her to bake for our store?” Spencer asks.
I glare at my brothers. “First, she’s our competitor. So no. And second, we get to keep these recipes. Remember?”
“Oh, right. It’s in the contract,” Spencer says smirking. I refrain from rolling my eyes. I love Spence but sometimes he is so focused on the forest he forgets he’s surrounded by trees. Details are not his thing.
“You’re an idiot,” Dalton growls as he grabs another cookie and a cupcake.
“So what’s the plan? This woman has culinary skills.
Do we just sink obscene amounts of money into the Hearts Lane location?
Do we search for a renowned pastry chef with a following on social media to run the bakery?
Do we cut a special deal with some coffee suppliers for special beans?
What’s the path forward?” Dalton continues as he takes a bite of the cupcake and his eyes roll back in his head.
I hear the telltale pop of a candied cranberry and I shake my head.
“I don’t know. I need to get more intel. If she’s given us these recipes, then I know she has some way better things up her sleeve. She’s not going to give away her best ideas,” I point out.
“True. You need to spend time with her. Gain her trust, figure out her secrets, and then we pivot before opening with a new direction that can crush her store,” Spencer says matter-of-factly.
“Exactly,” I state.
Dalton laughs. “Why the hell would she trust you?”
“Because I’m witty and charming,” I say with a smirk. Both my brothers double over with laughter and I flick them off. “Fuck you both. Women love me. I’ll figure her out. Give me a few weeks.”
The competition starts in another week. I’ve already scheduled time with her this week to go over our strategies and backup plans, but then as her team coordinator, I’ll be intimately involved in every aspect of our team’s baking.
The competition calls for the bakers to have one assistant and she’s already told me some woman at the bakery will be there.
I just hope that doesn’t screw up my plan to be able to gain her trust.
“Bro, you need to tread lightly with this one,” Spencer adds as he takes a piece of the pie. He takes a bite and his eyes widen. “How did she even do that?”
I shrug. “We haven’t gone over the process yet,” I answer as I take a cookie.
Spencer types something on his phone and his eyes widen. “Wait a damn minute. This is the competition?” he asks as he flips his phone around to reveal a photo of Camryn.
I nod, forcing myself to swallow the cookie. Holy fuckballs! It’s a candid shot someone took as a promo piece on the café. She’s throwing her head back and laughing. Her curly red hair is up high in a ponytail, but tendrils hang down around her face. She’s gorgeous.
“I mean, maybe I can talk to her,” Spencer says as he looks at the photo.
I practically growl as I shove his phone back toward him.
There is no fucking way I’m letting Spencer anywhere near Camryn.
I might have the playboy reputation from the antics of my youth, but Spencer eats women for dinner and spits them out for dessert.
He can never keep a girlfriend longer than three months.
It’s like he purposefully repels them once things start to get serious.
Dalton leans in to see what has us transfixed. He whistles. “She’s beautiful,” he says. Now, I’m angry. I feel like a feral dog ready to mark his territory.
“I have this under control. I can handle her,” I say through gritted teeth.
Spencer laughs. “Right. We all know how you handle women,” he says with a smirk. I want to punch that look right off his face.
I clench my fists at my sides. “I got this,” I growl as I turn and walk out of the room before I do or say something I might regret.
I make it to my office and sit down, swiveling my chair to stare out at the city below. What the fuck just came over me? I’m not with Camryn. Who cares if Spencer or Dalton went after her? Why did I just feel protective of this woman who drives me insane?
My assistant’s voice rings out from my desk phone and I welcome the distraction. I don’t want to spend another second pondering why I just felt the overwhelming need to protect my biggest rival.
* * *
“OK,” I say as I look around the kitchen. “What’s first?”
It’s Sunday evening and Camryn has invited me over to walk me through baking each item. We will be holed up at an estate just outside the city for the competition starting next weekend, so this is our last chance to go over things.
“I’m here,” another voice calls out and an older woman walks into the room.
“This is Amber,” Camryn says as she motions to the woman.
Amber reaches out and shakes my hand. “So, you’re Fletcher,” she says eyeing me up and down. I suddenly feel like I’m being judged and not in a good way.
“That would be me,” I manage as I glance back over at Camryn. She’s smirking and I glare at her. She shrugs and claps her hands together.
“Amber has worked in the kitchen here longer than I’ve worked here. She knows everything there is to know about baking,” Camryn explains as she sets out bowls of ingredients.
She pats a stool to the side of a workbench and I sit.
“Good boy,” she whispers and winks at me. I glare at her.
She grins, clearly loving that she got under my skin.
“Now, we are going to have to perfect the quantities this week because we need to make a small batch for the judges instead of the large batches we normally make. The pie will be easy enough, but for the cookies and cupcakes we’ll need to pare down.
Amber and I have worked out what seems to be the correct formula over the past few days.
We will walk you through that tonight,” she explains as she turns to Amber.
“Let’s do the cupcakes first,” she adds and Amber nods, bringing a tray of ingredients to the worktable. She talks me through her process first and then stops and looks over at me.
“Get your ass over here. You’re going to help,” she says.
I raise my eyebrows. She motions for me to stand next to her. Normally, I wouldn’t cave to taking directions from this pint-sized rival of mine, but for reasons I can’t explain, I listen to her.
She takes my hand in hers and wraps both our hands around a giant spoon in a bowl of dry ingredients. I hate admitting I like the feel of her hand on mine, but I’d be a fucking liar if I denied it.
“Stir,” she commands as she moves our hand in a circle. “Good job,” she says in a low voice before letting go of my hand.
The air feels cold against my skin where her hand had been, but I keep swirling the spoon in the bowl until she tells me to stop.
“OK, Amber has the wet ingredients going. We’re going to start pouring the dry ingredients into that larger bowl,” she says as she motions toward Amber’s bowl. “Hold the bowl for me.”
I do as I’m told and she uses a spatula to slowly incorporate the dry ingredients into the larger bowl.
Then she shows me how to make the candied cranberries and frosting while Amber fills the cupcake molds. We’re all working seamlessly together. And finally, the cupcakes go in the oven.
“Now what?” I ask.
“Now, you’re going to help me make cookies,” she says and I groan. How did I forget we had two more baked goods to make?
She bumps me with her hip and I suddenly remember that I need to gain her trust. So I decide to be playful. I throw some flour from the table on her.
“You did not just do that?” she says as she brushes it off her chin.
“I did,” I state.
She picks up some flour from a container and throws it on me.
“You guys!” Amber says loudly but it’s too late. We’re in a full food fight and I completely forget that I’m with my enemy.