Lessons in Love (Flirt) (10 page)

“Yum,” I said, hurrying over and grabbing a cookie before she could add it to the display. “Did Great-Aunt Ellen just make these?”

“Uh-huh. And don’t eat any more—you know she only works a half day on Mondays, and we’re likely to run out before dinnertime as it is.” Mom slapped my hand away before I could take more. “How was school? Did your biology test go okay?”

“Test was good. School was fine.” I stuffed the cookie in my mouth. It was still warm—heaven. Great-Aunt Ellen was the one who’d first convinced my great-grandparents to add a bakery to their successful deli business way back in the early days. It had been a hit from the start, probably because her cookies, cakes, and donuts were so delicious that people came from miles around to get them.

I wiped my hand on my jeans, then went behind the counter and grabbed one of the coffee pots from the twin burners. The two older ladies were regular customers, and I knew they always drank decaf.

“Refill?” I asked when I reached their table.

“Oh, thank you, dear.” The older of the pair smiled at me and slid her cup closer.

“Yes, thanks.” Her friend pushed her glasses up her nose and peered toward the bakery case. “Did I just see your mother bringing out some fresh cookies?”

“Snickerdoodles.” I smiled. “How many do you want?”

Once I’d finished topping off their coffee and brought them each a cookie, I stepped behind the counter and put the coffee pot back. “What do you want me to do?” I asked.

Uncle Rick glanced up from his cleaning. “Suz is in back working on a delivery order,” he said. “You could help her finish up.”

“Okay.” I pushed through the swinging doors.

Susannah glanced up from layering ham and provolone onto a row of sub rolls. “Hi, Bailey.”

“Hi. How’d your test go?”

She groaned. “Don’t ask. How was yours?”

“The usual.” I shrugged. “Simone thinks she actually passed, though.”

“That’s good.” She shoved a tub of mayonnaise toward me. “Here. I need two roast beef with lettuce, onion, and mayo. No tomato.”

“Got it.”

We worked together in comfortable silence. When the sandwiches were finished, Susannah started stuffing them into bags. “Can you tell your dad these are ready?” she said. “He’s in the office.”

I nodded and stepped into the tiny hallway beyond the kitchen. Passing the storerooms and restroom, I stopped in front of the closetlike office. Through the half-open door I could see my dad at the desk, bent over some paperwork. I rapped lightly on the door frame.

“Order’s up,” I said.

Dad looked up, his mustache twitching into a smile. “Oh, hi, Bailey. I didn’t know you were here. What time is it?” He checked his watch.

“Time to deliver some sandwiches. Do you want me to take them? Or ask Uncle Rick?”

“No, I’ve got it.” Dad stood and stretched. “I can swing by and pick your sister up from her piano lesson on the way back.”

I followed him out to the front. Things were still slow, so Mom suggested I get started on my homework. I took her advice, slipping into the corner booth and pulling out my books.

I was halfway through that night’s geometry proofs when the bell over the door jingled loudly. Once I looked up, I saw that it was Megan. She’d changed out of her school clothes into a pretty floral wrap dress with a deep V-neck. It definitely hugged her curves in all the right places, though the cap sleeves and lightweight, flowy fabric looked more suited for July than the fickle weather of early spring.

“Bailey! I was hoping you’d be here!” She hurried over and slid onto the bench across from me. Her eyes were dancing with excitement and her cheeks were flushed pink. The latter was probably due to vasodilation from spending time outdoors in that dress on a relatively chilly day. But somehow, since she was Megan, it only made her look more beautiful than ever.

I lowered my pencil. “I’m always here,” I joked, trying not to stare at her cleavage. “You know that.”

“Yeah.” She dug into her purse and pulled out a jeweled compact, checking her face and hair in the tiny mirror. “So how about that scene at lunch today? Is Ling a nut, or what?”

“Hmm.” I wasn’t about to start taking sides between the two of them. That would only make an already ridiculous situation downright insane.

“I mean, I can’t believe she’s trying to steal Logan right out from under me!” Megan snapped her compact shut and tucked it back into her purse. “He’s so not her type.”

“I guess.” She actually had a point there. Ling had an edge to her, and she usually preferred a guy who could stand up to her—even challenge her. Obviously I didn’t know Logan that well yet, but he seemed too easygoing to fill that role.

Then again, Megan herself had pointed out that Logan wasn’t really
her
usual type either. Okay, yes, he was good-looking and fit. But not exactly the dumb-jock kind of guy she usually preferred.

Megan ran her fingers through her glossy red hair, which as usual looked ready for that shampoo ad. “I guess I can’t blame her, though,” she said. “I mean, Logan is pretty amazing, right? It’s about time we got some cool new guys around here.”

I nodded, gripping my pencil tightly. Why was she telling me this? All my friends knew I wasn’t exactly the go-to girl for romantic advice. Why wasn’t Megan spilling her guts to Taylor or Zoe or Simone? Why me?

“Anyway, I’m sure Ling will come to her senses soon. At least I hope so.” Megan leaned forward. “In the meantime, I had a wonderful idea.”

“Really?” I asked weakly. Couldn’t she see that I didn’t want to have this conversation?

No, probably not, I realized immediately. Megan was a great friend in most ways. She was loyal, fun-loving, and quick to laugh. But she could be single-minded when she was involved in something, and occasionally maybe a little slow to notice what other people might be feeling.

“I want to do something special for Logan,” she said eagerly. “You know, like, to welcome him to town? So I want to commission a special cupcake for him.”

“A cupcake?” That wasn’t what I was expecting.

“Right. And you’re the expert at this stuff, Bailey. How many words can I fit on one cupcake? Can I make it say ‘Welcome Logan, from Megan?’ Or maybe something longer?”

“I don’t really do much with the bakery stuff,” I told her. “And my great-aunt already left for the day. Maybe it could wait until tomorrow?”

“No!” Her eyes widened. “I want to deliver it to his house today. Can’t you make me one?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to give anything I’ve baked to anyone you like,” I said. She looked so distraught that I relented. “But maybe Susannah could write something on an already-made cupcake. . . .”

“Perfect!” Megan clapped her hands. “Come on, help me explain it to her.”

Susannah was in the back prepping for the dinner rush. She nodded when she heard what we wanted. “We’re sold out of chocolate already. White cupcake okay?” she asked.

“Fine, whatever.” Megan didn’t seem too interested in the details. “How long will it take you to do the writing?”

“I need to finish this first.” Susannah nodded at the half-chopped head of iceberg in front of her. “So maybe half an hour?”

“Great. I’ll be back then to pick it up.” Megan grabbed me in a quick hug, enveloping me in her signature jasmine cologne. “Thanks, guys!”

After she rushed out, I slumped against the counter and stared into space. For a while there during study hall, I’d almost started to wonder if maybe Simone was right. If it really was worth taking a chance on this sparks thing.

But this? This had brought me back to earth.

“Bailey?” Susannah said. “What’s the matter? You look down.”

I blinked, remembering where I was. “What? No, I’m fine.”

“Bailey. It’s me.” My cousin lowered her knife again and watched me. “This new guy your friend was talking about—her cupcake boy. It’s not the cute boy who came in yesterday, is it? The one Simone said you were hitting it off with?”

“Simone told you that?” I gritted my teeth. “That girl has
such
a big mouth!”

“You’re just figuring this out now?” Susannah smiled. “But seriously, what’s the deal?”

My first instinct was to brush her off, find an excuse to change the subject or go back out front. Then again, maybe I shouldn’t be so hasty. Susannah was both a natural romantic and a realist. She’d gone out with all kinds of guys throughout high school, from bad boys to jocks to nerds and everything in between. But the only one who’d stuck for more than a couple of months was her current boyfriend, Chuck, a fellow business student who was already expressing an interest in joining the family business someday. Practical, right? She’d played the field but settled on a guy who fit in perfectly with her life plan. Maybe hers was exactly the kind of advice I needed right now.

She was still watching me as she went back to chopping. “Bailey? Come on, you know you can trust me.”

“I know.” I glanced around to make sure we were alone. Mom and Uncle Rick were out front, Dad was still out making that delivery. Susannah’s mom, Aunt Vera, was off today, and the extra evening staff hadn’t arrived yet. “The thing is, I’m not exactly sure what the deal is myself. There’s something different about Logan.”

“Logan. I like his name.” Susannah nodded, scooping the chopped lettuce into a bowl with the edge of her knife. “What’s different about him?”

“I don’t know!” I wailed. “That’s the trouble. It’s like as soon as he walked in, I felt like I already knew him. No, wait.” I stopped and thought about that. “That’s not really true. But I
wanted
to know him. Or something . . . Aargh!” I clutched my hair.

“Wow.” Susannah sliced through another head of lettuce, then paused and looked at me. “That definitely doesn’t sound like you. Tell me more.”

“So we’ve talked a few times since then, and it just keeps getting weirder. I like talking to him, and sometimes it feels almost like talking to a friend, even though we don’t know each other that well and, you know, he’s a guy. But sometimes I get all nervous and freaked out, and I can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound totally idiotic.” I grimaced. “Simone calls it sparks.”

“Okay.” Susannah went back to work, her knife efficiently slicing the lettuce into strips. “And do the sparks go both ways? Does he feel the same about you?”

I frowned at her. “How should I know? I’m not a mind reader.”

She laughed. “I forgot who I’m talking to,” she said. “I just mean, does he seem to like talking to you? Does he look you in the eye when you’re together? Does he ever, like, touch you on the hand or anything like that?”

“I guess. Maybe. Sort of. But it doesn’t matter. See, Megan and Ling both called dibs on him.”

“Dibs?” Susannah’s knife paused in midslice, and she blinked at me. “What are you talking about?”

I told her about the scene in the cafeteria. “So even if I’m not imagining what I’m feeling, it doesn’t matter,” I finished with a sigh. “He’s already spoken for.”

“Not necessarily.” Susannah scraped another pile of chopped lettuce off the cutting board and dumped it into the bowl. “It takes two to tango.”

“Huh?”

She grabbed a rag and wiped her hands. “If the sparks are mutual, Logan isn’t going to be interested in your friends no matter how much they throw themselves at him. Or how pretty they are. Or how many customized cupcakes they give him. Which reminds me—wait here.”

She hurried out through the swinging doors. I grabbed a rag and started wiping down the area where she’d been working, hoping the mindless task would settle me down.

Susannah reappeared a moment later with a cupcake. She set it on the marble counter over in the bakery area, then started digging through a cabinet.

“Did your mom move the frosting tips again?” she said. “No, wait—here they are.”

I wandered over to watch as she fitted a tip to a fresh pastry bag. “Do you really think there’s any chance he wouldn’t be interested in Megan or Ling?” I asked. “Even though every other guy in school would kill to go out with them?”

“Of course. If he likes you, he likes
you
. He won’t settle for some other girl.”

“But how do I know if he likes me?” I couldn’t believe this was me asking that. “Or even if I actually like him? I mean, we hardly know each other!”

Susannah leaned over the cupcake, carefully forming letters with the frosting in her bag. “Spend more time with him. Get to know each other better. Then you’ll know.”

“How? We only have three classes together.”

“You could ask him out.”

“What?” I squawked at the top of my lungs.

“Easy, girl!” She glanced up from her task. “As a
friend
. You could start by hanging out as friends. He’s new in town, so it’s only natural that you’d want to help show him around, right? Just invite him to do something casual.”

That actually didn’t sound so bad. “Like what?”

She shrugged. “The Spring Thing’s coming up. You could ask him to come cheer you on at the kickball tournament.”

“Right. Come watch me get sweaty and covered in mud,” I muttered. “Very romantic.”

She laughed. “Okay, you have a point. Besides, that’s still a week and a half away. But I’m sure you can come up with something.”

Just then Uncle Rick stuck his head into the kitchen. “Bailey, up front,” he said. “Someone’s here to see you.”

He ducked out of sight again. I glanced at the cupcake, which was only half inscribed.

“That’s got to be Megan,” I said. “She’s notoriously impatient. I’ll go distract her while you finish.”

I hurried through the swinging doors—then stopped short when I saw Logan standing there. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his jeans, and he was staring at the pies in the bakery case.

“Logan!” I blurted out in surprise.

“Hey,” he said, stepping over to the counter. “I was hoping you’d be working here today. I was just wondering—um, remember how I was talking about getting a dog?”

“Yeah?” I was all too aware of Uncle Rick standing by the register. Close enough to hear every word. Luckily, my mom was out near the door chatting with the old ladies as they prepared to leave.

“So I was thinking of going to the animal shelter this weekend,” Logan said. “Maybe Saturday? I was thinking maybe you could come with and help me pick something out.” He grinned. “You know, since you’re a dog expert, at least compared to me.”