You Spin Me ‘Round

Chapter One

Benji

“Yes, Mom, everything’s fine. I’m fine. The weather’s fine.”

Benji Roth rolled his eyes as he made his morning coffee—morning being exactly at four thirty a.m., when he began his day. As the owner of Zis, Serenity’s bake shop, he was downstairs in his store by five to make the cookies, muffins, rugelach and all the other delicious treats he was rapidly becoming well-known for. Zis was the Yiddish word for sweet. He’d chosen the name as an homage to his grandmother—his Bubbe —who’d spoken a mixture of Yiddish and English and had passed away not long after his bar mitzvah. His grandmother used to call him and his cousin, Isaac, her zisen kinder —her sweet children. From the time he was little, his happiest memories had always been spending time in her sweet-scented kitchen, learning how to make her special treats.

“Are the leaves turning? It must be so pretty with the all the colors. It’s gorgeous here, by the way. Today they say eighty and not a cloud in the sky.”

That sounded…awful. He loved the change of seasons. At NYU, his friends would laugh at his reaction to the snow. He’d stand in Washington Square Park, face upturned, simply to feel the swirling flakes land on his cheeks and lips. The best memories of his childhood had been the vacations they’d take to visit his aunt and uncle, who still lived in New York. In spite of the five-year age difference, he and his cousin, Isaac, were close, and it was Isaac who’d encouraged him to make the move and follow his dream.

“It’s starting—October is the beginning of the fall foliage.” He finished his coffee, put the mug into the sink, and put her on speaker while he dressed. “You know, Mom, you don’t have to wake up so early just to talk to me. I can call you after work.”

“Don’t be silly. I have a six a.m. Pilates class, but I always like to take a walk on the beach before. It wakes me up, and I love the solitude. What better time to speak to my son?”

He finished buttoning his flannel shirt and stepped into his jeans. “Okay, just checking.”

“Business is good?”

He couldn’t tell if she was hoping he’d say yes or no. Of course she wanted him to succeed, but Benji knew she also wanted him to come home, buy a condo near them in Delray Beach, find a nice Jewish guy, and get married.

Now, he wouldn’t mind the nice Jewish guy and the getting married part, but moving back to Florida? Wasn’t gonna happen.

“It’s great. I’m usually sold out of everything by three or four in the afternoon.”

“And you don’t make more?”

“No, Mom. I want people to think it’s a hot commodity. Product scarcity breeds interest. It’s why I have crowds in the morning. Eventually I’ll make more and introduce new products. Like for Hanukkah. Of course I’ll make the jelly doughnuts and bring in chocolate gelt and cookie dreidels, but I want other, more interesting baked goods.”

“Well, you know best. I’m sure you can look up recipes.”

Judging by her doubtful tone, he doubted it, but she was trying to be nice and support him. In fact, Benji thought everything he’d done—going to school so far away, moving to Serenity—confused her. But the one thing he’d never doubted was his parents’ love.

He laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m making a profit. It’s all good.”

On a visit to Isaac in Serenity, he’d found a little storefront—originally a candy shop—with an apartment upstairs. After a little negotiation, he’d bought the building and converted it into a bake shop and within two months of signing the lease, he’d opened his own store. Something he’d dreamed about for years.

Of course it helped that Isaac and his boyfriend, Levi, had gathered their friends and family in town and within a month, Zis had become the go-to bakery for all things delicious.

Serenity couldn’t have been a more perfect place to live. His first few days, Isaac had taken him around to introduce him to everyone, and he’d understood why his cousin and boyfriend had bought the house they escaped to from their jobs as New York City firefighters. He’d received a warm welcome and he’d quickly learned Serenity was a place where you could leave your doors unlocked and people said hello to you on the street.

Well, almost everyone.

“Mom, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you next week, okay?”

“All right, honey. And give that boyfriend a kiss from us. Are you sure you can’t take time off and come down for even a quick visit? We’re dying to meet Ari.”

I’m sure you are.

“I wish, but he’s tied to his store like I am to mine. Maybe after the holidays.”

Maybe by that time I’ll find someone.

Yeah, it was stupid and silly and childish, but he’d gotten sick of them asking if he was lonely all by himself, and if he was dating, so he’d made up a story that he’d found a boyfriend. Not simply a boyfriend, but a fairy tale where he and the mythical “Ari” were madly in love.

“I hope so. Bye, honey.”

“Bye.”

He stuck his feet into his sneakers, poured more coffee into his travel mug, and left his apartment. Even after almost a year, it still gave him a thrill to see the gold-lettered sign on the window.

Out of habit, he glanced across the street and as always, wondered about the owner of Around the World, Gil Navarro. Tall, dark, and handsome might sound trite, but it described the man perfectly.

Mysterious and frustrating would also fit. For months, almost since Benji’s opening day, Gil had come into Zis, ordered a muffin, and left. A bare hint of a welcoming smile, rarely a hello. He’d kept his gaze fastened firmly to the floor. Benji had tried everything in his power—he hadn’t won Mr. Congeniality in high school for nothing—a hearty greeting, talk of the weather, sports…anything.

Nothing worked.

He huffed out a sigh and shrugged his shoulders. “A new day means a new chance.” One of his grandmother’s favorite sayings. Maybe he’d try that with Gil.

Benji unlocked the front door of the store and got to work. After washing his hands, he took out the flour, eggs, butter, and all the other ingredients needed to make the fresh-baked goods. An hour later, the store smelled like a warm hug on a cold day. The aroma of cinnamon, vanilla, and sugar permeated the air and he slid the last batch of muffins, pumpkin pie, and babka in the ovens, then took out his rolling pin for the rugelach. Apricot and raspberry were the flavors of the day.

Sunshine cast shadows on the sidewalk, chasing away the cool morning air. As he rolled, he watched the comings and goings on Main Street—Mr. Martin opening up the drugstore, the growls of the trucks delivering fruits and vegetables to Serenity Supermarket, and Mrs. Weaver putting out baskets of mums outside the flower shop. But that wasn’t what caught his eye.

The tall, broad figure of Gil Navarro hopped out of his Jeep and as he stood facing the front of his store, Benji admired how the snug jeans hugged the curve of his perfect ass. And Benji stared with unabashed lust at the smooth muscles flexing in Gil’s tanned biceps. Yeah, he was an arm man and not ashamed about it at all.

“I’m gonna get you to talk today if it kills me.” With renewed vigor, Benji cut the rugelach dough, spread the filling, and placed the little rolled up bits of deliciousness onto the cookie sheet. He repeated this procedure several times until the counter was filled. Part of what made Zis so popular was that he did all the preparation facing the street, and people loved to stop and watch through the window. The kids, especially, would press their little faces to the glass and ooh and ahh as he’d decorate the cookies and cupcakes.

By seven thirty he was ready to open, and he turned the sign on the door. Within minutes, several of the store owners stopped by for their morning pastries. Amos Martin always got a bran muffin and a chocolate chip cookie to have with his lunch. Sally Stauffer bought her new favorite, rugelach, plus some jam-filled cookies; and a few townspeople stopped in for an assortment of baked goods—croissants, turnovers, and Danish. Benji chatted with each one while he waited for the man he fantasized about every night. His heart pounded as he saw Gil exit his store, turn the sign to CLOSED, and cross the street. The cheery bells announcing visitors jingled when the door opened.

“Good morning, Gil,” Benji sang out.

A slight flush tinted Gil’s cheeks. “Morning,” he responded in a soft voice.

“What kind of muffin today? I have cranberry, pumpkin spice, banana, bran, and corn.”

His brow furrowed as if choosing a pastry were a monumental decision, but Benji appreciated that he put thought into his food.

“Cranberry, please,” he finally decided in that same calm and quiet tone.

“Sure thing. Coming up.” Benji put the muffin in the bag and, spur of the moment, decided to slip in a few rugelach as well. “How’s everything going for you this morning?”

Gil nodded and handed him a five-dollar bill. “Fine, thanks. And you?”

Inwardly cheering that he’d gotten the man to speak, Benji chattered on as he made change. “I’m good, thanks. Spoke to my mother down in Florida this morning, and of course she’s still trying to get me to move back home.”

Gil said nothing, so Benji continued.

“I told her eighty degrees and sunny every day isn’t enticing to me. And of course then it turned to, ‘Have you found a nice Jewish guy?’” He winked and gave Gil his change and the bag with the food. “Parents. They just don’t get it, right?”

With a nod, Gil simply walked away.

“Dammit,” Benji cursed. “I thought I was making progress.”

The early rush subsiding, he replenished the baked goods. He was almost finished when the bell dinged, and he looked up from the few muffins he had left to see Bryce Bauman holding the elbow of an elderly man.

“Bryce! Mr. Wilcox, how are you?” He set the tray on the countertop and hurried around the counter to pull over a chair for the man. “How’s Matty doing?”

Meeting Bryce and Matty had been his biggest surprise after his move to Serenity. Before he could take possession of the building, he’d stayed at the Rolling Meadows Bed-and-Breakfast for a few weeks and met Matty, the owner, and Bryce, his influencer husband. The last place Benji had expected to find an openly gay couple was a small town bordering the Amish country, yet there they were, out and proud, living their life and fully accepted by the community. It gave him hope.

“We’re all good, thanks. Tanya’s hoping you have some of that chocolate babka she picked up this past week? And some of those.” Bryce pointed to the showcase. “ Rugelach ?” He wrinkled his perfect nose. “I could never say it right, even when I lived in the city.”

At Bryce’s pronunciation, Benji’s snicker rang out. It sounded like Rug-u-lock . “It’s a Jewish thing. We have the ‘ hch ’ in our blood.” He took out a loaf of babka and an assortment of rugelach and put them in boxes, saving two pieces for each of the men to snack on. Mr. Wilcox chewed his and licked his lips.

“Delicious. Never had anything like them, but now I can’t get enough.”

Benji’s chest swelled with pride. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe. She was very special—taught me everything I know about baking.”

Bryce finished one, and his big blue eyes scanned the store. “You did a great job with this store. I still can’t believe you gave up a career in finance to come here and open a bakery.”

“Well, that career in finance gave me the capital to buy the building, start this business, and live here.” It wasn’t the time to get into the soul-crushing hours spent staring at bond prices, treasury yields, and figuring out if he should buy, sell, or hold for his clients. Nor did he want to think about the end of his relationship with his boyfriend, Shepard Scott, who’d publicly dumped him at the office holiday party by bringing another man he’d introduced as his fiancé. “And as a single man, I don’t need much, and the cost of living is much less here than in Delray Beach, where I grew up, and New York City, where I went to business school.”

“That’s for sure,” Bryce stated, his eyes crinkling with laughter. “Trust me, I know. But now, I wouldn’t live anywhere else.” He gazed down at the ring on his finger. “Matty and I have made a life here I never thought possible.”

“It’s a great town to live in,” Mr. Wilcox grumbled. “Clean air, clean living, and your neighbors say hello to you on the street. Everyone looks out for everyone.”

He couldn’t help the quick glance out the window and across the street to the spice store.

Well, not everyone.

“What’s his story?” he asked, pointing across the street to Around the World. “Gil Navarro. He comes in every day and buys a muffin but never says anything, really.”

Bryce lifted a shoulder. “I know as much as you. Keeps to himself. Came here about three or four months before you. Tanya gets all her spices from him and says he’s quiet but very nice.”

“Not everyone likes to chatter like you,” Mr. Wilcox said with affection. “Now we’d better get on back. Matty needs me to help him with something.”

Benji met Bryce’s eyes and the other man winked. “Of course, Earl. Ready when you are. Then you and I are gonna finish our game of checkers. You were about to lose to me, as I recall.”

“That’s what you think.”

Bryce helped him to his feet, took their boxes, and Benji decided to walk them out to the street. After they drove away, he stared at the spice store, shook his head, and returned to the bakery.

“Mr. Wilcox thinks people look out for their neighbors here. I wonder if that includes you.”