17. Maggie
SEVENTEEN
MAGGIE
If someone had told me that within a few days I’d be excited to be waking up to work on a scavenger hunt with Duke, I would’ve laughed in their faces. There’s never been a reason to get excited about getting up early, which is the reason I never became a baker. Those hours are rough. Candy is grab and go, which makes my life a lot easier.
I dress in some casual pants that could work for my business but also be easy enough to move in. I’m not sure what the mayor had in store when she started this campaign to show off the town, but I’ve enjoyed it so far. It’s fun to step outside my bubble every once in a while.
I walk toward the shop and see Duke leaning against the pillar. A sudden wave of “this hot guy is waiting for me” washes over me. It’s hard for my brain and my heart to put into alignment what it should be doing about the guy who sells timeshares.
It’s possible that the ice around my heart melted just a bit yesterday after helping the game shop owners. Duke was so kind and generous, offering to stock some of their shelves when Troy had a hard time lifting the boxes.
The guy is definitely different than I had originally thought. I just don’t know if I can chance being open with anyone ever again.
One failed relationship is about all I can handle in a lifetime. I’m not sure how women can survive multiple breakups of longer relationships.
“Good morning,” I say, giving Duke a small smile.
He glances up from his phone and grins at me, causing me to sigh inwardly. “How are you today, Maggie?”
“Doing well. Any idea what will be next on the list of our scavenger hunt?”
He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. I’m embarrassed to admit that I tracked his hand all the way through, definitely jealous.
There’s got to be something wrong with me with thoughts like that.
The familiar ping of the app sounds and I open it, feeling a bit of anxiety about what we’ll have to do today. I’m not sure I want to do something embarrassing. There better not be any skinny-dipping options here. I’m good with my clothes on at all times around this guy and everyone else in this town.
“Looks like we’re making cookie art at the bakery.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Like frosting cookies?”
I scan through the short paragraph on what we need to do for this and sigh. The task is to decorate a cookie with a landscape or something we love about Willow Cove. My artsy skills are probably in the negatives at this point. I’ve never been able to draw more than a stick figure.
We start walking toward the bakery and I’m just hoping I don’t screw this whole thing up. It’s like my brain is putting a ton of pressure on me to perform and I don’t want to mess anything up for me or for Duke.
“Hey, are you okay?” Duke asks, using his elbow to gently nudge me.
I shake my head, trying to clear all the negative thoughts and say, “I’m sorry if we ruin this, I mean if I ruin this for you. I’m the worst at any kind of art, especially the kind that gets sticky.”
He chuckles. “Wait, you don’t like things that are sticky?”
“No,” I say, giving him a cringing smile. “I have to wash my fingers immediately.”
“But you own a candy store. Do you have to do that every fifteen minutes?”
I chuckle at his question and say, “No, I use those plastic gloves for a lot of the items. It’s more sanitary.”
“Sounds like sanity too,” Duke says, giving me an open-mouthed smile.
I shake my head and lean a shoulder, nudging him away a few inches.
“What are you going to design in the cookie frosting?” I ask.
Duke looks at me for a moment before turning toward the bakery. “I’m not sure. I don’t think we can go wrong with the ocean and the beach.”
His admission has me rethinking everything in just a few seconds. “Like, just the beach and the blue water?” I’d been picturing the buildings downtown or the shops along the boardwalk.
He nods. “Yeah, I don’t think that will be too hard. Blue icing. Then crush up some crackers or something to make the sand look realistic?”
Giving him a pleading smile, I say, “How about we make matching ones?”
He points to me and says, “You want to match with me? I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Oh come on. I know I can be crabby at times, but I do have a heart.”
“I’ll take your offer. We might as well help each other.”
That’s when we see a large table outside the bakery with several people crowded around it. So many people this early in the morning.
Georgie walks out the front door with a tray of several small bowls of colored icing.
“This looks great, Georgie,” Duke says with a smile.
“Great chaos, maybe. But things have been busy for the bakery, so I can’t complain.”
“Have you gotten a lot of new business?” I ask, interested in the impact this hunt has had on other shops in our town. Troy said it helped him. The Candy Jar hasn’t really been impacted though. We’ve given away a lot of small bags of candy, but that’s about it.
She nods. “I’m thinking at least a bit. But it’s also taking up time doing prep work for it.”
“Let’s hurry and get ours done,” Duke says once Georgie heads back inside. There are stacks of square cookies in the middle of the table, but it’s getting to them that’s our biggest problem. At least there’s some room at the end of the table.
“I’ll grab these, you snag that spot,” Duke says. I head over and stake our claim, grabbing a couple of small plastic knives and trying to decide how to make this cookie a reality. There’s a lot that I’m not good at, but I do my best to be resourceful.
A couple just finished their cookie decorations and I’m in awe at how they were able to create such a picturesque scene of the bakery. There’s no mistaking the bakery’s sign, almost looking like a printed copy in miniature form. The woman turns around and I recognize her from the karaoke task.
They must be assigned all the same tasks we are. And from how good they are at the two events I’ve seen them at, they are a shoo-in for the grand prize.
There are a few piping tools on the table, which still won’t help me.
“Are you okay?” Duke asks, setting down the cookies on the table in front of us.
“I’m good. Just wondering how we’re going to compete with that,” I say, waving to the couple who is taking a picture of their masterpieces, fussing about the light of the picture and if they can get it to sparkle in the sun. Is there nothing they can’t do?
Duke shakes his head. “We’ve got this. Sometimes simpler is better.”
He pulls over the bowl of blue frosting and uses the spoon in it to plop a blob on the cookie. It’s not as thick as I thought it would be and starts oozing over the sides.
“Do we need to make an outline or something?” I ask, trying to channel everything I’ve learned from watching Food Network.
“I’m not sure how to do that,” Duke says, working his knife back and forth over the cookie. Underneath a piece of parchment paper, I find a small piping bag. I fill it and then use the tip to create an outline but very slowly, grateful that this is somewhat thicker than what Duke just set on his cookie. The problem is that it’s a white color, which is not something I was planning to use in this scene.
Maybe I’ll be able to cover it or incorporate it later.
“That’s a great idea. How did you think of it?” Duke asks. He’s got a small dot of icing on his forehead, but I’m not sure what to do about that. Certainly touching him would break all of the many rules I’ve set up for myself, but he looks so cute.
“I channeled my own Guy Fieri,” I say.
“Doesn’t he review restaurants?” Duke asks with a chuckle.
“I think you're right.” I laugh, knowing I’m not the one who should be in business with actual goods that don’t come in gummy form.
I use the blue to flood the cookie and then search for something to use as the sand. If there was a graham cracker package, that would be perfect. There are only a few colors and nothing else that would work. At least that’s what I thought.
Duke grabs another one of the sugar cookies and crumbles it up, sprinkling it over the bottom of his cookie. He hands me the other half. “Here’s our sand.”
“You can’t use that,” I say, glancing around. I am the epitome of a rule follower and this feels like we’re breaking an unwritten rule. “What if there aren’t enough cookies to go around for the rest of the participants?”
Duke gives me a lopsided grin. “It’s kind of too late now for this one, unless someone wants to decorate a half-cookie.”
He’s right, but I still feel bad.
Once I’ve crumbled it over my cookie, there’s something missing. It looks plain, which is great, but it needs something else. An umbrella would be perfect for this.
Another guy puts down a bag of red frosting and I pick it up. I try to outline one, but it just makes a weird purple blob as the red and blue mix in the middle of the cookie.
“Oooh, are you making a ball? You could use the orange and green to finish off the sides.”
I grin, staring at Duke for a long few extra seconds when he’s already gone back to working on his cookie again.
“What?” he says, giving me a side glance that shows me he’s nervous.
“You’ve got a creative mind, Duke Jacobson.”
He raises his eyebrow and says, “Thanks, I guess?”
We laugh and go back to working on our cookie scenes.
“What do you think?” Duke asks, waving to his cookie.
I do everything I can to keep a laugh inside. “Your clouds look like they’re going to saw through the sand.”
Duke takes a good look at it and then nods. “I think you’re right. They’re a bit sharp. Maybe they’ll cut through to the middle of the earth to find treasure.”
“Treasure is always a good thing.” I try to swipe away a section of hair that fell out of my ponytail but find that something sticky just tracked through the path.
“You got some frosting there,” Duke says, pointing to his own face.
I glance around the table for a napkin, but Duke is faster. He grabs a wipe and leans over, gently taking care of the frosting on my cheek. And the entire time, I can’t do anything but stare into his beautiful face, breathing in his great smelling cologne.
Why have I been so adamant about pushing him away?
He leans back and says, “I think I got it all.”
All I can do is stare up at him with starry eyes. “Uh, thanks.” I glance down, doing my best not to freak out on the outside, even though that’s exactly what’s happening inside.
Is he not feeling what I’m feeling? Maybe I don’t want to analyze right now. It’s been a while since I’ve been taken care of, even if it was for a whole five seconds.
“You have a bit there,” I say, trying to point to his forehead. But my gaze keeps getting stuck on his eyes, surprised by their clarity.
“Where?” he asks, using the wipe to go at his cheek. It takes me a whole lot of seconds to snap out of my little trance, but I finally grab the wipe and clean the spot off for him.
“Thanks,” he says, giving me a bright smile. Dang, the guy is all sorts of my type, even though I’m on a man ban. That brings up the reason for the man ban, my ex, and I’m wondering why I should trust things this time when everything went horribly wrong last time.
Shaking my head, I realize that I’ve done what I shouldn’t. I’ve started to plan for the future without any real foundations from the present. Maybe Duke is just being nice to me because he wants to win that prize money. Or he’s just a really great guy but doesn’t need to have a girlfriend any time soon. He even said that he wanted everyone to stop commenting on his relationship status.
“We should probably take our picture with the cookies and post them,” I say, glancing down at the table. Maybe a little time away from him would be beneficial. It could be anything I’ve done today that caused this sudden rush of emotions.
Duke nods and pulls out his phone. “Say pickles!”
I’m so caught off guard by his statement that I frown and turn to him right as the photo takes.
“Pickles? What happened to cheese?” I ask, trying to understand the line of thought.
“Why not pickles? I think cheese is way overused. And pickles are some of the best things ever.”
I widen my eyes and shake my head. “Pickles? You’d choose pickles over cheesecake and pasta and all the other good things in the world?”
“I’m not sure about that, but I do love a good crunchy pickle.”
“Sweet or dill?” I ask. If he says sweet, I might not be able to hang out with him ever again.
“It doesn’t matter the kind. I like them all. Butter, sweet, dill. Jalapeno flavored.”
My tongue gets hot just thinking about that amount of sour and heat.
“Okay, that’s definitely not something I had you pegged for.”
“Oh, yeah? What was your first impression of me? Before you found out what I do to pay bills.” Duke stares at me again and it’s hard to keep my attention on the actual question since he almost looks like Braveheart with the number of colored frostings all over his face.
What did he ask me again?
“Um, well, to be honest, I guess I trusted you enough to start spilling all my ice cream theory facts. Then again, I was thrown by Hope’s engagement.”
“Didn’t you think she’d get married this quickly?” he asks.
With a shrug, I say, “I knew it would happen at some point, but that she’d be engaged for close to a year before the big day. It feels like we just got out of school and now we’re at the beginning of our adult lives. I figured I’d have at least two to three more years with her as my roommate.”
Duke doesn’t say anything, only working to clean up the mess we made with the frosting. It somehow got all over the table and each other. I always thought I was a clean freak, but it turns out that Duke has that tendency as well.
“Will you look for another roommate once she’s married?”
That’s a question I’ve been putting off. It isn’t a necessary thing, since I have some money saved, but do I need it to keep me sane? “I’m not really sure. I haven’t gotten to that point yet.”
“Being an adult is hard. If only there was a roadmap to tell us where to go and what to do with our lives.”
I nod, trying to look at everything from his perspective. “I think we’d need several maps to figure out life. Like where do we go career wise? Then one for relationships. Then maybe one for dreams.”
“It wouldn’t really be a dream then if we had a map, would it?” Duke asks, with a gleam in his eye.
“I guess if you’re taking it literally,” I say, rolling my eyes before cracking a smile.
Duke finishes posting the photo of us with our cookies, our heads tilted together and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say we look like a couple. Which is totally not in the realm of things I can comprehend right now.
There’s another ping on the phone and we check the app.
It’s time for another food challenge.
Head over to the Rusty Crab to get your next task.
“I don’t think I’ve been there before,” I say. I like some kinds of seafood, and being this close to a port has been great for fresh fish, but all my extra money has gone to the shop since I moved here. “It would be awesome if we could do a taste test.”
Duke frowns and says, “That’s the last thing I want to do.”
“Why?” I ask.
He scratches behind his ear and says, “It’s just not my favorite.”
“Okay, if we have to do some kind of eating challenge, I’ll do it for both of us.”
Duke gives me a soft smile and says, “That would be great.”
We walk over to the restaurant and I’m surprised at the easy silence between us. Usually I’m trying to ramble, but instead, it feels nice to just walk together. Although that gives me too much time to think about all that transpired this morning.
Once inside the Rusty Crab, it’s dark and I’m not sure anyone is there. At least until a woman in her early twenties comes to us.
“We’re closed.”
“We got an assignment to come visit you for a scavenger assignment,” I say, lifting my phone with the screen lit so she can see the app. If this business is participating, they have to have seen more of them, right?
The woman shakes her head and says, “I need help rolling a bunch of silverware then. We open in two hours.”
Shrugging, I follow her to a table in the back and watch as she starts folding the silverware into the cloth napkins.
Duke is still frowning, which isn’t something I see on his face that often. Maybe he really doesn’t like fish.