Page 14 of Cakewalk

“I’m not much of a baker, but I think you might have mixed up your baking powder and your baking soda. A girl did that in my junior high home ec class, and it tasted much like this—kinda metallic,” Officer Nelligan said.

“What?” Gigi said. All feelings of butterflies and lust were long gone now, replaced by sheer panic. She looked at Officer Nelligan in horror, taking in the scone he’d just bitten into. The apologetic look in his eye told her everything she needed to know—she'd screwed up. Big time.

“Georgia. I don’t know what possesses you to even try these things. It’s a well-established fact that you just are not capable of cooking. Please stop trying—you’re just making yourself look ridiculous,” Bradley’s voice said. She shook her head, trying to clear his words from her mind, as she turned and ran into the kitchen.

Sure enough, the canisters labeled “baking powder” and “baking soda” were right next to each other. However, it was the baking soda whose lid was off and sitting in front of it. That was the one she’d used when measuring out her ingredients.

“Sugar Honey Iced Tea!” she exclaimed, stomping her foot in frustration. She could feel Roderick looking at her, but she didn’t have the heart to turn around and see the expression on his face.

“Uh oh,” she heard Roderick’s voice say over her shoulder. “That’s a bad day.”

Was she ever not going to screw this up? When would she learn that she couldn't do this? No, what she couldn’t do was let Bradley’s words get to her.

At least it was just Officer Nelligan. He was used to seeing her at her worst at this point. He and Holden.

Holden.

Holden had also ordered a scone. But he hadn’t eaten it yet. Right?

Racing back up front, she skidded to a stop in front of his table to find him midbite into the inedible treat.

“Nooo!” she cried. “Don’t eat that—it’s…”

“A bit salty…” he responded, choking it down.

Gigi could feel the tears starting to prick at her eyes, but she wasn’t going to let anyone here see her cry. It was no big deal. So she got the canisters mixed up. Happens to everyone at some point, right?

“I’ll get you a muffin,” she told him, turning back to the counter. Looking between Holden and Officer Nelligan, she sighed. “At least it was just you two, right?”

“And Mr. Hughes,” Kirk said, not looking up from the espresso machine.

“Who?”

“That older guy who bought six. Owns Hughes Hardware store up the street.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” she exclaimed before turning and running out the front door. She had to get to him before he let his employees have any of them.

Deserting the café like this was probably not her best move, but she figured after this disaster, she was going to be lucky to even have a job.

* * *

Holden

Holden hadn’t quite realized just how out of shape he was until he’d started to demo the smoke-damaged kitchen in the carriage house. The company the chief had recommended had been out a few days after the fire and gotten the place cleaned up. It had taken them three days to take care of everything, but when they were done, they told him that it was safe enough for him to do the demo himself as long as he wore a mask to keep from inhaling anything that might break loose in the process. Doing this himself had sounded like a great idea, a way to distract him not only from all the words he wasn’t currently writing, but from the insanely tempting little blonde that was now flitting around his house. That was, until he’d started to actually swing that sledgehammer.

It wasn’t a secret that he’d gone a little soft after retiring from professional sports. Gone were the days where he spent six hours a day working out and watching every bite of food he took. But it wasn’t like he’d let himself go completely. He still ran ten miles a day and did plenty of stuff around the house. So he didn’t have the washboard stomach that Hannah used to refer to as his “fifteen pack”—didn’t mean he wasn’t still a stud. Other than how incredibly sore and tired he was from hauling cabinets out of the small apartment.

Walking into the kitchen to get a glass of water, he found Gigi standing in front of the open fridge. Clearing his throat to announce his presence, he watched as she gasped, jumping back from the fridge and slamming the door shut. Her beautiful gray eyes were red and swollen, and her normally rosy cheeks were tearstained. His heart ached at the sight. It was obvious she’d been crying for a while, and he was pretty sure it had to do with the scone incident this morning. She’d run out of the Busy Bean faster than he’d ever seen her move, looking like she might throw up. The whole thing would have been funny had he been watching a sitcom, rather than it playing out in real life.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, stepping closer to her.

“Nothing,” she answered, wiping her hands against her cheeks, trying to making it look like she hadn’t been upset. “I’m fine. I’ll get out of your way.”

She turned to go, but he caught her by the elbow, stopping her. He could feel her body go rigid as she froze in place when his hand made contact with her skin. He hadn't meant to scare her, so he quickly let go, letting her arm fall back by her side. The startled look on her face, paired with her puffy eyes, made her look so vulnerable just then. Holden’s heart ached even more, and he had to stop himself from wrapping his arms around her in a bear hug. It was an urge he hadn’t felt in years, but it was just as strong as the last time it had rushed through him.

“No, don’t go. Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? Holden, you witnessed it. Please don’t make me recount it—it was bad enough the first time,” she said, walking back toward him and resting against the counter.