Recipe for Love (11 page)

“Do you have a dollar for the fare?” Kim asked.

Andi looked in her purse. “I’m broke.”

Kim’s pockets came up empty. “So am I.”

“I have some singles,” Rachel offered, but when she opened her purse, all of the contents
fell out on the ground.

Andi and Kim bent to help her scoop up her large array of lipstick, mascara, apple-blossom
perfume, nail polish, hairbrush, keys, mints, and other miscellaneous items.

“We have to leave,” the white-bearded conductor told them. “It’s a holiday weekend,
and we’re on a tight schedule. You can catch the trolley on our next trip back.”

“No, please wait.” Rachel held up three singles. “I’ve got it.”

Andi and Rachel took seats on one side, while Kim dropped onto a deep-polished wooden
bench opposite them so they wouldn’t miss Mike if he was on either side of the tracks.

The bell sounded, and as the trolley moved forward, the conductor began to recite
its history. Rachel scanned the dozens of people they passed, but Mike was nowhere
in sight.

“Up ahead the trolley goes over a stretch of water,” the conductor continued. “We
haven’t had an accident yet, but be advised the person sitting next to you is your
nearest floatation device.”

Rachel prayed the trolley wouldn’t fall into the water this time either, but with
her luck, she wasn’t too sure. A few minutes later the trolley returned to dry land
and stopped for a long line of people waiting to board. Not willing to waste any more
time, she got up out of her seat.

“What are you doing?” Andi called, jumping up to follow.

“I can’t wait,” Rachel said. “I might miss him. I’ll go the last stretch on foot.”

As they hurried down the waterfront path, she feared she’d missed him anyway. They
were almost to the end. The trolley was catching up to them, and Rachel moved into
one of the three-by-six-foot railed, wooden deck cut-outs to get off the tracks. Andi
and Kim followed, and the trolley passed by and stopped a few yards ahead.

Rachel looked out over the wide mouth of the Columbia River, toward the red and green
lights set to guide the ocean-bound ships in the right direction, and wished she had
such a beacon.

She shook her head. “I’ve lost him.”

A card swirled into the air in front of her, and she reached out and grabbed it. A
Creative Cupcakes business card?

She spun around, and Mike, dressed in a suit and tie, stood in front of her, his dark
hair ruffled and a bright smile lighting his handsome face. Rachel drew in her breath.
He didn’t seem to be unhappy with her at all. In fact, he seemed mischievously pleased,
like he knew a secret she didn’t.

Andi and Kim also wore huge smiles on their faces as if they also knew something.
What were they keeping from her?

“I was online less than an hour ago, replying to a job inquiry when I saw
you
,” Mike said, his voice calm.

“Me?” Rachel asked. “From the video clip filmed last night?”

“No,” he said with a grin. “From the video clip filmed
today
.”

“Today? What do you mean
today
?”

“When you stood up and poured your heart out in the Creative Cupcakes party room,
you were being filmed,” Mike told her.

Andi nodded. “Caleb set the camera on a timer to film the same hour every afternoon
and evening,” she explained. “After the chaos at the party, he didn’t turn it off,
and someone must have knocked the lens because today it zoomed in on the party room.
Caleb came in the shop, thought it was a leftover clip from the party, and had it
uploaded within seconds.”

Rachel’s stomach locked down tight. “And you . . . all saw me . . . and how many others?”

Mike laughed. “The whole world.”

“It’s gone viral!” Andi exclaimed and held up her smartphone to show her the images.
“You’ve already got 20,000 views on YouTube.”

“You were an instant sensation,” Kim added. “All of a sudden the phone started ringing
with calls from women asking to be part of the cupcake club.”

Rachel frowned. “Why?”

“Because you were honest and connected with women on a personal level,” Andi told
her and nodded to her phone. “Orders for cupcakes are pouring in. Three weddings,
two birthday parties, and a booking for the Scandinavian Festival next month. There
won’t be any problem paying our rent on time.”

“What I said
was
personal,” Rachel said, trembling from the thought of being utterly exposed.

“Did you mean it?” Mike asked, turning her to face him. “What you said about never
wanting to wear a mask again?”

“From now on, you will only see the real Rachel,” she assured him. “I’m through with
masks.”

“So am I,” Mike told her. “Right before you arrived, I met with the director of the
new movie set to film in Astoria next month. He hired me to build a model of the
Peter Iredale.
I told him I knew a beautiful redhead who might like to play the part of one of the
stowaways living an enchanted life at sea.”

“I’m already living an enchanted life here in Astoria,” she told him, “with
you
.”

Mike dropped down on one knee. “Rachel Marie Donovan, I knew how uncomfortable you
were at the party and only backed off to give you space. You never ‘lost’ me. I love
you and promise to always love you.” He paused, then grinned. “Will you marry me?”

Rachel gasped. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Andi and Kim clutch each other’s
arms and heard them gasp, too.

“You’ll love me even when I’m
not
‘stupendous’?” she asked, giving him a big teasing smile.

“Yes,” he said, his eyes still locked on hers. “Will you love me even if I’m not always
‘magnificent’?”

“Yes, Mike, I will!” Throwing her arms around his neck, she found she was laughing,
crying, and deliriously happy all at the same time.

Mike stood up and lifted her off her feet. As he swung her around, a cheer rose into
the air. Rachel looked toward the tracks and realized it came from the people on the
trolley.

Mike also saw them watching and grinned again. Then he bent her backward and swept
her up into a kiss so sweet, so tender, so
magnificent,
she lost all sense of her surroundings.

For at least two minutes. Until Mike pulled his mouth away to place a light kiss on
the tip of her nose.

“I thought
I
was the impulsive one,” Andi said and clapped as she jumped up and down. “After your
wedding you can drive away in the Cupcake Mobile!”

“We can tie tin cans and tinsel to the bumper!” Kim added.

Rachel laughed, and Mike captured her lips again, this time holding nothing back,
but drawing her in deep for a kiss that held the promise of never ending. She smiled
inside, her heart soaring, as she dreamed of their new life together.

A life as sweet as a beautiful ship in full sail toward a horizon of blue sky and
open sea.

Recipe for

DEEP CHOCOLATE CAKE

From Merrilee Shoop of Allyn, Washington

Combine all ingredients in a large bowl. Mix on slow to medium speed until well blended
and smooth.

• 3 cups flour
  
• 2 cups sugar
  
• 2 tsp. baking soda
  
• 1 tsp. salt
  
• 6 Tbsp. cocoa
  
• 1 Tbsp. vinegar
  
• 1 tsp. vanilla
  
• ¾ cup vegetable oil
  
• 2 cups water
  

Pour into a 13-by-9-inch pan (no need to grease and flour pan). Bake at 350° for 5
minutes and reduce heat to 300° for 45 minutes.

Frosting:

• 5 tbsp. flour
  
• 1 cup milk
  

Cook in a pot over low heat and continue stirring to avoid lumps. When it forms a
thick paste, set aside and let cool. In a medium bowl, mix:

• 1 cup sugar
  
• 1 cup butter
  
• 1 tsp. vanilla
  

Beat until fluffy, then add the flour and milk paste and beat until spreading consistency.

Keep reading for an excerpt from the first book in THE CUPCAKE DIARIES series,

SWEET ON YOU

now available from Avon Impulse.

And catch a sneak peek at the third book in

THE CUPCAKE DIARIES series,

TASTE OF ROMANCE

available from Avon Impulse May 21, 2013.

An Excerpt from

THE CUPCAKE DIARIES: SWEET ON YOU

Forget love . . . I’d rather fall in chocolate!

—Author unknown

A
NDI CAST A
glance over the rowdy karaoke crowd to the man sitting at the front table with the
clear plastic bakery box in his possession.

“What am I supposed to say?” she whispered, looking back at her sister, Kim, and their
friend Rachel as the three of them huddled together. “Can I have your cupcake? He’ll
think I’m a lunatic.”

“Say ‘please,’ and tell him about our tradition,” Kim suggested.

“Offer him money.” Rachel dug through her dilapidated Gucci knockoff purse and withdrew
a ten-dollar bill. “And let him know we’re celebrating your sister’s birthday.”

“You did promise me a cupcake for my birthday,” Kim said with an impish grin. “Besides,
the guy doesn’t look like he plans to eat it. He hasn’t even glanced at the cupcake
since the old woman came in and delivered the box.”

Andi tucked a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear and drew in a deep breath.
She wasn’t used to taking food from anyone. Usually she was on the other end—giving
it away. Her fault. She didn’t plan ahead.

Why couldn’t any of the businesses here be open twenty-four hours like in Portland?
Out of the two dozen eclectic cafes and restaurants along the Astoria waterfront promising
to satisfy customers’ palates, shouldn’t at least one cater to late-night customers
like herself? No, they all shut down at 10:30, some earlier, as if they knew she was
coming. That’s what she got for living in a small town. Anticipation but no cake.

However, she was determined not to let her younger sister down. She’d promised Kim
a cupcake for her twenty-sixth birthday, and she’d try her best to procure one, even
if it meant making a fool of herself.

Andi shot her ever-popular friend Rachel a wry look. “You know you’re better at this
than I am.”

Rachel grinned. “You’re going to have to start interacting with the opposite sex again
sometime.”

Maybe. But not on the personal level, Rachel’s tone suggested. Andi’s divorce the
previous year had left behind a bitter aftertaste no amount of sweet talk could dissolve.

Pushing back her chair, she stood up. “Tonight, all I want is the cupcake.”

A
NDI HAD TAKEN
only a few steps when the man with the bakery box turned his head and smiled.

He probably thought she was coming over, hoping to find a date. Why shouldn’t he?
The Captain’s Port was filled with people looking for a connection, if not for a lifetime,
then at least for the time they shared within the friendly confines of the restaurant’s
casual, communal atmosphere.

She hesitated midstep before continuing forward. Heat rushed into her cheeks. Dressed
in jeans and a navy blue tie and sport jacket, he was even better looking than she’d
first thought. Thirtyish. Light brown hair, fair skin, sparkling chocolate brown eyes,
oh my
. He could have his pick of any woman in the place. Any woman in Astoria, Oregon.

“Hi,” he said.

Andi swallowed the nervous tension gathering at the back of her throat and managed
a smile in return. “Hi. I’m sorry to bother you, but it’s my sister’s birthday, and
I promised her a cupcake.” She nodded toward the see-through box and waved the ten-dollar
bill. “Is there any chance I can persuade you to sell the one you have here?”

His eyebrows shot up. “You want my cupcake?”

“I meant to bake a batch this afternoon,” she gushed, her words tumbling over themselves,
“but I ended up packing spring break lunches for the needy kids in the school district.
Have you heard of the Kids’ Coalition backpack program?”

He nodded. “Yes, I think the
Astoria Sun
featured the free lunch backpack program on the community page a few weeks ago.”

“I’m a volunteer,” she explained. “And after I finished, I tried to buy a cupcake
but didn’t get to the store in time. I’ve never let my sister down before, and I feel
awful.”

The new addition to her list of top ten dream-worthy males leaned back in his chair
and pressed his lips together, as if considering her request, then shook his head.
“I’d love to help you, but—”

“
Please
.” Andi gasped, appalled she’d stooped to begging. She straightened her shoulders
and lifted her chin. “I understand if you can’t, it’s just that my sister, Kim, my
friend Rachel, and I have a tradition.”

“What kind of tradition?”

Andi pointed to their table, and Kim and Rachel smiled and waved. “Our birthdays are
spaced four months apart, so we split a celebration cupcake three ways and set new
goals for ourselves from one person’s birthday to the next. It’s easier than trying
to set goals for an entire year.”

“I don’t suppose you could set your goals without the cupcake?” he asked, his eyes
sparkling with amusement.

Andi smiled. “It wouldn’t be the same.”

“If the cupcake were mine to give, it would be yours. But this particular cupcake
was delivered for a research project I have at work.”

“Wish I had your job.” Andi dropped into the chair he pulled out for her and placed
her hands flat on the table. “What if I told you it’s been a really tough day, tough
week, tough year?”

He pushed his empty coffee cup aside, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward.
“I’d say I could argue the same.”

“But did you spend the last three hours running all over town looking for a cupcake?”
she challenged, playfully mimicking Rachel’s flirtatious, sing-song tone. “The Pig
’n Pancake was closed, along with the supermarket, and the cafe down the street said
they don’t even sell them anymore. And then . . . I met you.”