“And I must say the smells in here are absolutely luscious,” Nanette added, sniffing delicately at the air.
“Cinnamon,” Julia said, performing her own nose-in-air-sniff-test. “I adore cinnamon.”
“You’re absolutely right. It is cinnamon.” Meredith smiled warmly at the girl. “At the moment, we’re baking a variety of muffins, including cinnamon. You might also be able to smell chocolate. We’ve just finished preparing some chocolate-caramel ricotta tarts. Of course you’ll be able to sample them and anything else you’d like. Why don’t we go into the conference room and discuss what you were thinking of in terms of a wedding cake.”
She ushered them into the large space that was decorated in the kind of calming springtime shades almost every bride and especially every mother-of-the-bride loved.
Carafes of coffee and tea as well as a selection of cakes had already been set up at the center of the long conference table. Meredith did a quick scan to make sure nothing important had been left out, but nothing had been, so she gestured to the food.
“I provided samples of some of the cake flavors you might be interested in using in a wedding cake—banana, white amaretto, red velvet, devil’s food, French vanilla. Why don’t you both sit down and try a few. Then we can get started.”
She carefully watched, without seeming to watch, as they both sat and helped themselves to coffee and several cake samples. After a few moments, when neither of them had made an ungodly face at her baking or run from the room demanding an ambulance or a personal injury lawyer and both women had expressed their mutual delight with her skill at the same time that they also reached for a few more samples, she finally relaxed and settled herself in one of the chairs to begin the hardest part of this meeting—convincing these two that Divine Desserts more than lived up to its name and would produce the perfect wedding cake for a blushing bride who wore Cinzia Rocca and carried Louis Vuitton.
She picked up the pen and pad she’d put there to make notes and leaned forward.
“Now exactly what kind of cake would you like?”
“Big,” Julia said, spreading her arms a good two feet apart to indicate big.
Meredith nodded. Okay, a little vague, but “big” she could do.
“There’ll be several hundred guests, so I would think at least a very large six-tier cake would be required,” Nanette Ogilvy chimed in as she sampled a bite of Meredith’s white-amaretto cake and smiled with approval. “What do you think, Julia?”
Julia nodded. “Sounds perfect to me.”
Actually, it sounded pretty good to Meredith, too, and her mind began swirling with possibilities. Six tiers that needed to be packed with special fillings. Maybe all the same type. But maybe not. Maybe the bride would want variety, a potpourri of different flavors, colors, and textures.
One layer with apricot jam, one with crème patissiere, another with chocolate hazelnut, a fourth with caramel mascarpone, and the last with strawberry mousse. The whole thing slathered in luscious fondant or buttercream. Rich, smooth, sumptuous, and each mouthful an unforgettable culinary experience.
“If there’s a specific filling you like, we can use that,” she explained as she made notes in her pad. “But if you prefer some variety, it would also be possible to use diverse fillings so you can experience a different taste treat with every bite. Then the entire cake can be covered by—”
“Candy hearts,” Julia burst out gleefully as she picked up her coffee cup.
Meredith’s grip on her pen tightened. “Huh?”
“Candy hearts,” Nanette Ogilvy said.
“You mean no frosting?”
“Oh, definitely frosting, but all along the sides of the cake and around the bride-and-groom topper…” Julia gestured expansively with her cup. “…candy hearts.”
“You don’t mean hearts made out of frosting or plastic?”
Julia gave a decisive head shake. “No, I want candy hearts.”
“Chocolate candy?” Meredith persisted, trying to get a clearer idea of what she meant.
“No. Those candies with sayings on them. You know, the ones that are so popular on Valentine’s Day.”
Meredith nodded as Julia’s meaning finally came clear. “Of course. The candies with sayings on them.”
She tried to envision a six-tier wedding cake awash in lovey-dovey sayings and found herself nodding again. All right, it was doable. Buy some packages of candy hearts and stud the cake with them. No problem. The candies would provide interesting points of color against a backdrop of basic white frosting and the guests would have fun seeing what sayings were on their slices of cake. Now that she thought about it, it wasn’t a half-bad idea.
“Very good,” she told the beaming Julia. “Candy hearts it is, with a variety of sayings.”
Julia stopped beaming. “Oh no. No variety of sayings. I want each of them to say the same thing.” She put the cup down and sat back in her chair, her eyes taking on the besotted glow of a woman thinking about something much more fascinating than frosting and wedding-cake toppers. “I want them to say, ‘Adore Me’.”
Meredith felt the breath whoosh out of her and dropped the pen onto her pad. “All of them have to say ‘Adore Me’?”
“Definitely. The cupcakes, too. I want dozens of cupcakes with luscious fillings, so we can be sure everyone gets something if we run out of wedding cake.”
Meredith retrieved her pen and scribbled “dozens of luscious cupcakes” on her pad as she tried not to think about how many boxes of hearts she’d have to troll through to find enough that said “Adore Me.”
She swallowed a silent sigh. “That’s really thoughtful of you to have dozens of extra cupcakes.”
Dozens of extra cupcakes that each had hearts with “Adore Me” emblazoned across its surface
.
She took a deep breath, warning herself to keep calm, stay focused, and try like hell to regroup. After all, she wanted customers who were happy with her work. Equally important, she
needed
customers who were happy with her work. God, did she need them, especially if they could also steer other customers her way. And soon.
“You know why I want that exact saying?” Julia asked, her voice turning hushed with memory. “Because of the way Kevin proposed. It was so romantic. It happened on my birthday a few years ago. Kevin and I were alone in the living room sitting on the sofa, and suddenly he took out a ring box and offered it to me. So I thought, this is it. He’s proposing. But when I opened the box the only thing inside was a candy heart with the words ‘Adore Me’ on it. Then he pointed to it and said, ‘Do you? Because that’s how I feel about you,’ and I held his hand and said, ‘Oh, I do.’ And he said, ‘That’s what I was hoping you’d say.’ Then he pulled out another ring box, the one with this inside.”
She waved her left hand in the air, and the behemoth of an engagement ring on her finger flashed enough watts of power to light up a small room.
“Then he got down on his knee and proposed.” Julia smiled dreamily and let out a sweet giggle that made her look and sound about twelve years old. “Isn’t that the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard?”
Meredith nodded. “It’s a wonderful proposal,” she agreed, trying not to be blinded by the glow from the ring.
But at least now there was one thing she knew for sure. After that revelation, any suggestion she made about alternate cake decorations would be useless. Julia Ogilvy wanted candy hearts with “Adore Me” written on them, and that’s what she would get.
Which meant that later today, Meredith would have to head to the nearest candy store, buy a few packages of hearts, and see what she could come up with.
“Wonderful. Hearts with ‘Adore Me’ on them.” She smiled brightly to hide her sudden fear that this whole thing could well turn out to be a real pain in the…umm…neck.
Chapter Five
Two boxes of hearts. Two freaking boxes, and not a single “Adore Me” in the group.
Meredith sat at her kitchen table, staring at the unopened boxes piled in front of her waiting for their turn to be explored.
She sighed and reached for the third box. But by the time she got to box five, she was ready to call it a day.
“No, not yet. Gotta do a few more boxes first,” she murmured and got up to pour herself another cup of coffee.
Her cell phone buzzed as she was about to sit down again, and she smiled when she saw who was at the other end.
“Hello, computer expert,” she said as she clicked on the call.
“Hello, yourself, master baker,” Vlad answered. “Have time for a little visit from a man with a pizza?”
Meredith glanced at the candy hearts piled up on the table. No, logically, she didn’t have time. But, emotionally, damn was she ready for a little close contact with both the man and his food.
“If the pizza has pepperoni, then the man can expect to be welcomed like a conquering hero.”
Vlad’s laugh echoed in her ear, full-throated and filled with the promise of a wonderful evening. “Terrific. The man, happily bearing a cheese, pepperoni, and sausage pizza, will be there in about five minutes.”
****
Four-and-a-half minutes later, he strode into her apartment, a large pizza box in one hand and his other hand free so he could pull her against him to deliver a full-body, one-armed hug.
“Come into the kitchen,” Meredith said as she disentangled from his embrace. “I’m working in there.”
He followed her, staring in confusion at the candy-strewn table when they entered the kitchen.
“Don’t tell me. Let me guess. That mess on the table means you’ve got a secret addiction to small, sugary objects shaped like hearts,” he said as he set the pizza box on the kitchen counter.
Meredith wanted to laugh at that possibility, but since she wasn’t in the most jovial mood, she just made a face at him. “Not hardly.” She swept the hearts over to one side of the table to give them a clear space for the pizza.
“So what are you doing?” Vlad asked.
“I’m checking candy hearts.”
He shook his head, patently confounded. “Why?”
“For a specific saying.”
“This is what you do in the evening for fun?”
Meredith gave him a dark look to let him know she was not amused by his question. “No, this is what I do in the evening to keep my business afloat.”
“Every evening?”
She took out a bowl and put it on the table for the rejected hearts, which so far had been every heart she’d examined. “Of course not. This is a singular event. At least I hope it is. A customer wants a wedding cake decorated with hearts that say ‘Adore Me,’ so that’s what I’m looking for. I’ve already gone through five boxes and haven’t found a single one.”
Vlad pulled out a chair and sat down. “Okay, since the customer is always right, I’ll help.” He held out his hand. “Give me a box. We’ll look together.”
Meredith stopped shoveling rejected hearts into the bowl and turned to him. “Really?”
“Of course, really. Would I lie about it?”
“What about the pizza?”
He shrugged. “No problem. We can reheat it and have it later.”
“Okay. In that case, here you go,” she said and dumped a box into his outstretched palm.
Then she sat down beside him and picked a box of her own to explore.
“No…no…and no,” Vlad said, sifting through the candy and tossing the rejects from his box into the bowl.
After a few minutes, he crumpled the empty box in his fist and pushed it to the far side of the table. “Nothing there,” he said and reached into the bowl, scooping up a handful of hearts and popping them in his mouth. “Mmm, not bad. Really pretty tasty.”
Meredith shrugged and followed his lead, selecting several hearts and crunching down on them until the flavors of orange and lemon and strawberry mingled in her mouth. “You’re right. I haven’t had them in years, but they’re really good. Nice and sugary.”
But they weren’t what she needed. Even worse, she knew this wasn’t the way to handle her problem. With a sigh, she shook her head and pushed the bowl aside.
Vlad stopped eating and looked at her. “What’s wrong? Thought you liked them.”
“I do. But so far none of the boxes have the saying I need.”
He moved his chair closer and leaned toward her. “What saying was that again?”
“Adore Me.”
Flashing a lascivious grin, he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. “If that’s what the lady wants, that’s what the lady gets.”
Meredith flattened her palms against his chest. “Wait. What are you doing?”
“You said
adore me
. I’m just trying to oblige.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You deliberately tricked me into saying it, didn’t you? You sneaky, underhanded—”
He drew her closer, and his hand slid to the back of her head to keep her anchored there for his kiss. She squirmed but didn’t try to break the contact because his mouth was delicious—hot and wet and sugary to the taste.
“Vlad, we don’t even know each other that well,” she said when they finally came up for air.
In a sense, it was true. So far they’d shared a few hot kissing sessions, but nothing more intimate. Now the spark she saw in his eyes told her he wanted to change that. Soon. Like right now.
“I know we don’t, and I’m trying to upgrade our relationship. So stop talking while I work on it,” he whispered against her mouth, confirming her suspicions.
And in that moment, she knew that maybe he was right. Maybe the time had finally come. Then she remembered the pizza.
“Wait,” she said, trying without much success to twist her mouth free. “What about the pizza?”
He shrugged. “We can have it later,” he murmured as his mouth took complete control of hers. “
Much, much
later.”
****
Two hours later, Meredith realized that they were definitely getting to know each other. Intimately.
Vlad lay on his back beside her, eyes closed and looking gloriously pleased with himself. All right, so he’d given her a couple of incredible orgasms, but she’d done pretty much the same for him.
“Why do men always look so self-satisfied after sex?” she said, poking him in the chest with her finger.