Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
I t had been four days since her interaction with Oakley. That’s what she called it, an interaction . If she put too much stock into the way he made her feel with his attention, it would break her mission to avoid feelings. That didn’t stop him from coming into the shop regularly. She’d never understood the meaning of being all atwitter until she heard her staff huddled together in the kitchen, talking excitedly every day. That was the only warning she had that Oakley had arrived. While someone served him, Clementine hid in her office under the guise of needing to get her recipes perfect.
That afternoon, she slipped in her AirPods so she could experiment with a new recipe while her staff handled everything else. She didn’t always meet with customers, but every now and then, she’d walk out with recommendations. The only time she was completely hands-on was when Frankie or Ginny brought a couple looking for the perfect wedding cake. Otherwise she trusted her staff to look after their customers.
Including the one that had her undies in a twist.
She was trying to bring her rhubarb cake to life, sleeves of her light green chef’s coat pushed up and arms covered in flour and cocoa powder, when a loud squeal pierced through her music. Clementine jumped slightly and looked over her shoulder in time to see a smaller body rush into the kitchen, aimed directly for her. She’d barely gotten her AirPods out when the kid crashed into her thighs.
“Tiny! Tiny! Tiny!”
She laughed, feeling all the tension in her body unravel at the childhood nickname her father gave her and had been adopted by this little hellion. She wiped her hands on a towel and set her AirPods down before stepping back so she could squat, bringing her face-to-face with her favorite kid.
“Hey, Little Dig,” she greeted the blue-eyed, strawberry blond nine-year-old who beamed up at her. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Tiny.”
They hugged and pulled apart as a deep accented voice filled the space. “Indigo, I told you, you’re not allowed to run in this kitchen.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
She tapped Indigo on the nose and earned a giggle before standing up to shoot her best friend a glare. Mack might have been her first awkward kiss, but he would always be her person . If it wasn’t for Mack, she might not have survived senior year of high school. Or even gone after her dreams to own a bakery. She often referred to him as a soulmate, because she believed that even best friends could be soulmates.
Mack had been a weird looking kid and she used to tease him about it as they grew up. Nobody would ever believe that he’d looked anything other than how he did now—broad shoulders, strong muscled arms and a firm torso. His light brown almost bordering on dark blond hair was a permanent mess and a straight nose balanced out his perfect face. Sparkling blue eyes always narrowed in frustration or lit up with joy because of his kid completed the look.
Their friendship was the gift that she never took for granted. Except for the ten years when he went to Inverness in Scotland to help out his aging grandparents—where he fell in love with a woman, knocked her up, became a dad, and was abandoned shortly after—they saw or spoke to each other almost every day. Mack was always her first call when things got complicated, so he already knew about the whole Oakley Interaction and was probably there to knock some sense into her.
“I believe you still owe me a picture from your holiday,” she told Indigo and pointed to her office. “There’s crayons and a sketchbook in the top drawer.”
Indigo bounced, grinning so wide before turning to Mack. “May I draw Tiny a picture, Daddy?”
“Of course. Remember not to make a mess.” Mack waved them off and Indigo speed walked to the office.
With Indigo out of earshot, she turned to her best friend, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the exhausted slump of his shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“Had a bit of a crisis this morning. Couldn’t decide between a sky blue skirt and denim shorts, broke down and cried and then finally settled on the shorts.”
He pulled out a stool and sat down, rubbing a hand aggressively over his face. She pouted and gave his shoulder a squeeze. From the minute Indigo could speak and have opinions, clothes and gender descriptions had become an ongoing discussion. Mack never put any restraints on who Indigo was, letting his kid make those decisions on their own. They were still figuring out where they stood in the great big world.
“School’s been great, though. They switched pronouns and you can see the difference in Dig’s mood because of it. But the kids are a little less nice when it’s a skirt or a flower in their hair.”
She gave him a hug, which he returned half-heartedly as was normal with the man, and released her as his eyes did a sweep of the counter she was working on.
“Stress, frustrated or horny baking?”
“I have never horny baked,” she protested, because she didn’t go through her day thinking about sex. Mack knew that. “Mostly frustration. With myself.”
“Still on about this Oakley lad, then?”
Every now and then, his Scottish accent and usage of words would slip out. Even though he’d spent most of his life in Iowa, growing up across the street from her family, the ten years he spent in Scotland had influenced a lot of how he spoke these days.
“I was mean, wasn’t I? And I’ve been avoiding him since then.”
Mack shook his head, a half-smile on his lips. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Freya says I should apologize. Luna thinks it’s okay to set boundaries. And you know Roscoe.” She sighed, adjusting her bandana. “He said that I should forget about him.”
“Roscoe knows you’re never going to date him, right?” She laughed at the question. Roscoe flirted with her constantly and for years, she didn’t know that’s what he was doing. Until Mack saw it in action and warned the handsome baker that she would never date someone she worked with. “I think Luna and Freya are right. You can set boundaries and still apologize, because you are sorry for the way you behaved.”
Clementine huffed and tipped her head back, letting her eyes fall shut. She could still see the look on Oakley’s face when she said ‘no’ that day—he was devastated and the light went out in his eyes. She did that. With a quick nod, she grabbed an apron and handed it to Mack. He slipped it on and, after a check on Indigo, helped her experiment with her rhubarb dessert.
Growing up, she’d been surrounded by incredible cooks and bakers. She was always perched on a counter watching her mother or grandmothers make meals. She enjoyed the process and definitely enjoyed the tasting part of it too.
Clementine knew how lucky she was to have a family that didn’t police her eating, or make underhanded comments about the size and shape of her body. Her relationship with food was healthy and appreciative. She liked learning about ingredients, understanding how they could be combined with something else to create new flavors. She asked millions of questions whenever she was in the kitchen with her family, desperate to understand why they made the choices they did.
Research became her favorite thing, along with experimenting, and by the time she was fourteen, Clementine was baking desserts for big family meals. She read books by famous chefs, watched documentaries about legendary cooks and found every way to fully understand what went into baking. If she was being honest, it started as a hobby, turned into a passion, and finally became something she needed to do.
When she announced her pastry school dreams, her parents protested a little. They convinced her that a degree in business management or hospitality would go a long way, and after graduation, she could still do pastry school. With that decision in place, her parents offered to help with tuition. They even invested in her business when she first opened Pretty Baked.
Initially, it was about making and selling her favorite desserts—cupcakes, donuts and cookies. When Freya and Roscoe were hired, she expanded her offerings and it functioned like a proper bakery.
Until Frankie Willows walked into her bakery and changed everything.
Being called the ‘Wedding Cake Queen of the East Coast’ was definitely unexpected. It took a lot of convincing for her to frame that article and put it up in the bakery, but now it hung right above the tasting table. Along with tons more magazine features and interviews that she’d done over the years.
Thanks to all this attention and the constant flow of customers, she was considering expanding. Even though she’d thought about it, and talked to Mack and her therapist, Rhiannon, about it, she hadn’t actually done anything further. Keeping the current bakery running was taking up all of her time and energy. And she was okay with that.
“I hope you’re setting a few extra aside for me.”
She looked up from where she was plating the tasters in the kitchen and snorted at Frankie’s giddy expression. The last time Clementine had given her friend tasters, she had to listen to all the ways Frankie used the cake on her boyfriend’s body. While she didn’t get jealous about things like that, it was strange knowing what else her cake was being used for. But it was clearly helping with Frankie’s relationship, so she couldn’t fault her for that.
“Maybe,” she replied and stepped aside to let Freya finish, then wiped her hands and reached for her iPad. “All right, so we’ve got eight options for them.”
“Perfect. They have a vague idea of what they’re looking for.”
She frowned and walked out of the kitchen. “Did they not tell you what their vague idea was?”
“Chocolate was literally all she said.” Frankie sighed.
Making a face, she checked the large table that was set up for the couple, ensuring that the cups for coffee, glasses for water and plates were clean. Everything about her bakery was important and nothing could ever be out of place. Not that she ever turned into Gordon Ramsey if something went wrong, but she wanted to be taken seriously every single day.
“You okay, Clem?”
She glanced over and saw concern etched into her friend’s face. “Yeah, just a lot on my mind.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Shaking her head, she looked at her iPad, using her index finger to scroll back and forth through her notes. They’d perfected the cake tasting process—Frankie would send a list of requirements, allergies and favorites from the couple, then Clementine would sift through her notes and pair flavors, finally she’d work with her staff to make small cakes the couple could sample when they came in.
Pretty Baked might be her business, but it was collaborative in so many ways.
“Clem?”
“What?”
Frankie chuckled, clearly used to her brusque personality. “What’s going on with you?”
“People are exhausting, aren’t they?”
“They are! Which is why I’m going to keep annoying you.”
She shot Frankie a glare, which only got her a beautiful smile in response. Before either of them could say anything more, the bell above the door chimed and a good-looking couple stepped inside.
“Hello!” Frankie greeted them, stepping around her to shake hands and hug the couple. Clementine used those few minutes to straighten herself out and paint a smile on her face. “Stacy, Mike, this is Chef Clementine Kinney. Maker of the most exquisite wedding cakes and owner of Pretty Baked. Chef Kinney, Stacy and Mike are getting married in a few months.”
“It’s nice to meet you, welcome to Pretty Baked.”
Stacy beamed, practically blinding her as she twirled like one of those ballerinas in a box, before turning to face her. “So excited to be here! I’ve been dreaming about your wedding cakes since before Mike asked me to marry him.”
This time, her smile was genuine. Because knowing that people waited to have her make their cakes was the most fulfilling thing in the world. “You’ve made my day. Please, have a seat. We’ve got coffee, tea and water.” The couple slid in one side of the table and Mike poured them coffee as Frankie sat at the other end, like she always did.
“Frankie gave me a list of things to keep in mind, so we’ve whipped together eight options for you to try. You don’t have to make a decision right away. In fact, you can take the tasters home if you need to think on it. Then let Frankie know which works for you. Are you ready?”
Stacy nodded and Clementine stepped aside as Freya and Roscoe brought out the cake-filled trays. Once the slices had been arranged in order, she resumed her position in front of the couple. “Since chocolate is the one flavor that you were certain about, we’ve put together four options where chocolate is primary,” she explained, seeing Frankie’s eyes widen at the display. “This is a Chocolate Chai. It’s got some Bailey’s, lots of cocoa and chai-spiced buttercream. Juicy Chocolate, where we’ve brought together chocolate and raspberries for the perfect blend and a slight bite. A Chocolate and Vanilla Swirl, which might sound boring, but the flavors will surprise you. And finally, a Chocolate Hazelnut Praline, which is nutty, but smooth at the same time.”
“Oh my god, these are incredible. What about the other flavors?” Stacy asked, eyes wide.
Clementine chuckled at the excitement. “These are Pretty Baked specialities. I try to blend fruit with cake as much as possible, because it lends to a certain kind of magic. So we’ve got a Raspberry Champagne, Maple Pumpkin, Rhubarb and Tea, and finally a Blueberry Elderflower.”
“Can we have a cake with multiple layers and put all these on there?” Mike asked, making everyone laugh.
She knew she was good at this, but never tired of the praise. It reminded her that what she was doing was worth it.
“How about you pick any three flavors you like and I’ll see what I can do.”
The couple nodded, like they were seriously going to do that and she stepped away to let them try the cakes. Most couples felt pressured if the chef was standing there and honestly, she needed to unscrew her smile for a few minutes. Walking into the kitchen, she released a shaky breath and pulled out her phone.
Clementine
Donuts or cupcakes. Which should I take him?
Mack
Doesn’t he come in for donuts like every day?
Clementine
Yeah, so?
Mack
Introduce him to something else you do really well.
Clementine
Why?
Mack
I sometimes forget how bad you are at peopling.
Clementine
I’m not bad at peopling, I don’t want to deal with them.
Mack
Take him cupcakes. Dig says so too. Apparently your cupcakes are the best.
Clementine
Thank you, Dig.
Mack
And I’m insignificant.
Clementine
*middle finger emoji* *black heart emoji*
When she stepped back out, phone tucked away in her pocket, Frankie and the couple were in a serious discussion about cakes. She hugged her iPad to her chest and walked over. “Everything okay?”
Mike nodded. “Oh yeah. We’re all trying to get on the same page with the best flavor.”
“I think it’s the Chai one, Mike says Raspberry Champagne and Frankie says Hazelnut Praline,” Stacy added.
“Good choices,” she said, glancing at Frankie who shrugged. “How about you take them home, have someone else try them. Or even give it another shot tomorrow and see what works. Like I said, you don’t have to make a decision right now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” Frankie said before Clementine could. “You just need to get back to me before the end of the week.”
When Stacy and Mike agreed to take the cakes home, Roscoe packed everything up. Then the bride and groom departed, leaving Frankie and Clementine slumped against the table.
“You really need to stop making such good cakes.” Frankie nudged her.
“Or maybe I shouldn’t give them so many choices.”
“ Or , make that many choices, but give me half of it.” Frankie winked and grabbed her things as she headed for the door. “I’ll see you in a few days!”
Once the bakery settled into its normal quiet, Clementine retreated to her office. Now she needed to figure out cupcakes for Oakley. Cupcakes that would impress him, but also seem like an apology. The thing was, she’d never been in a situation like this before. Everyone who knew her knew that she didn’t the best relationship with people, and they accepted her for the way she was. Oakley was new and didn’t know her, but that didn’t mean she could be mean to him. Even though the angel on her shoulder and her heart were battling it out, Clementine knew the right thing to do—apologize, be his friend and then move on with her life.
So…no crushing on the pretty tattooed surfer guy, right?