She slipped into the bathroom and locked the door, fighting tears, fighting nausea. Now, in addition to thinking she was a lying, selfish rich bitch, he also thought her a slut. People were always labeling her something or another based on stereotypes. She shouldn’t care.
She cared.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
Luke knocked on the door.
Rae turned on the shower.
When at long last the outer door finally opened and shut, Rae cried.
FOUR
Six weeks later …
Sugar Creek, Vermont
“Ah, come on. They can’t be that bad.”
“No offense, Luke, but these are quite possibly the worst cupcakes I’ve ever tasted.”
Luke raised a brow at his sister’s blunt assessment of his chocolate cupcakes. Rocky always shot straight from the hip. Usually he liked that about her. But not right now. A little encouragement would be nice.
“I don’t know about the worst,” Chloe said. Although she was still grimacing after swallowing.
“Don’t sugarcoat it, kitten,” Daisy said. “He’ll never learn if you do.”
“I’m not sure he can learn.” This from Ethel Larsen, one of the senior members of the Cupcake Lovers and one of Daisy’s closest friends. “Luke, honey. Just because your grandma, sister, and cousin have a gift for baking, that doesn’t mean you automatically do.”
“Sam’s the one who told me to get a hobby,” Luke reminded them. Apparently, Luke had been driving his friends and family crazy for several weeks. Not on purpose, but he was bored. He wasn’t dating anyone and he didn’t like being alone. He could only work so many hours at the Sugar Shack, so he’d been volunteering to help folks with various projects or trying to rope them into social activities. When Sam had suggested Luke take up a hobby, Sam had been on his way to the weekly Cupcake Lovers meeting and Luke had thought, what the hell. He’d been working hard to mend bridges with Sam, and maybe they could man-bond over man cakes.
Casey Monahan, part of the younger set of this club, regarded Luke with strained patience. “If Sam were here tonight, I’m sure he’d tell you he was thinking of a hobby along the lines of a poker club or bowling team.”
“You know we love you,” Monica said, “but this is your third meeting, Luke. The third batch of cupcakes you’ve shared with us and every batch has been worse than the one before.”
“Who substitutes maple syrup for vegetable oil?” Casey asked.
He’d been out of oil so he’d improvised. That’s what he did when he mixed drinks and it usually worked. “The consistency seemed right,” Luke said in his defense.
Daisy thunked her hand to her forehead.
Luke frowned. He couldn’t even count on his own grandma to defend him. He looked at the women seated around Dev and Chloe’s dining room table. He’d known all of them, with the exception of Chloe and Monica (transplants from the Midwest) all of his life. The Cupcake Lovers had been around since World War II. They were presently in the process of having their very own recipe and memoir book published—which was sort of exciting if you asked Luke. Baking was out of his realm, but he liked the social aspect of the club and the charitable causes. Plus, he liked cupcakes. He’d been eating a lot of them lately. Just not his own.
“Listen. Just tell me where I went wrong here.” He gestured to their plates and his barely sampled cupcakes. “You told me to keep it simple. I did. Plain ol’ chocolate as opposed to the Chocolate Cherry Cola with Red Licorice or the Spicy Double Dark Chocolate.”
“Someone who’s never baked before shouldn’t be getting their recipes from Cupcake Wars,” Judy said.
Since the Cupcake Lovers prided themselves on unique cupcakes, that TV baking show had seemed like the perfect source to Luke. Also it was easier and faster to watch and listen than to search a printed book or the Internet. But, whatever.
“This one came straight from a cookbook I checked out of the library,” he said. “Monica helped me pick out the recipe.” Monica, who was Chloe’s best friend, worked part-time at the Sugar Creek Library. Luke went in there a lot to check out audiobooks. Getting her to help him choose an actual recipe book without betraying his reading disorder had been pathetically easy. When it came to hiding his lifelong dyslexia, Luke was a master of deception.
“I honestly didn’t think he could screw this one up,” she said.
“Where did I go wrong?” Luke leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Go on. I can take it.”
“They’re too salty,” Judy Betts, one of the senior members said.
“And gooey,” added Helen Cole, another senior and crackerjack baker. “What kind of flour did you use?”
Luke shrugged. “The white kind.”
“Self-rising?” Gram asked. “Or all-purpose?”
“There’s a difference?”
“Sweetened or unsweetened cocoa powder?” Chloe asked.
Luke furrowed his brow. He thought he’d bought the right one, but maybe he’d misread. When it came to reading, letters typically swirled and flipped. Patience was key and he didn’t always have it. “I didn’t look specifically,” he lied.
Everyone groaned then traded cryptic glances.
Luke braced. Because he loved people, people usually loved him. He was always the life of the party, the guy everyone wanted to hang with. He’d never been kicked out of a club or any other circle but he had the feeling the CLs were about to give him the boot.
His sister, who was also the president of the Cupcake Lovers, braced her forearms on the table and leaned forward. “Here’s the thing, Luke,” she said with a gentle smile.
Oh, yeah. He could almost feel Rocky’s boot heel on his ass.
“As you know,” she went on, “we’re coordinating several overseas cupcake care packages. We’re also struggling to hold on to that publishing contract. It doesn’t bode well that they put our project on hold.”
“I’m almost sorry Tasha moved to Arizona,” Casey said. “She had a great relationship with our editor. If she were still acting as our liaison, she could probably persuade Brett to keep the release date on track.”
Luke wasn’t one bit sorry about Tasha and Randall Burke’s unexpected move. Although she hadn’t been directly responsible, Tasha had played a role in the destruction of The Red Clover—Rocky’s former bed-and-breakfast. His sister’s home and all of her belongings had been lost in a fire set by Randall’s son, Tasha’s stepson—who was now serving time in jail. Tasha had tried to make amends, but that hadn’t gone so well and Randall hadn’t appreciated living in the fallout of the scandal. He’d retired early, giving up his position as town mayor and packing up his trophy wife (whom he really seemed to love, for reasons that eluded anyone who knew the catty woman), trading one million-dollar home for another. Randall was richer than that Facebook dude.
Sort of like someone else Luke knew. Although he didn’t really know Rae at all and tried very hard not to think about her.
“Tasha’s absence factors in on multiple levels,” Chloe said. “Even though she’s still an honorary Cupcake Lover, she’s not a local member. It puts a kink in the overall package considering she contributed so many recipes and stories.”
“Not to mention she’s featured in photos and the publicity video,” Monica said.
“Also,” Chloe went on, “Brett wasn’t lying when he said there’s a glut in the cupcake market. Between that, Tasha leaving, and the whole Rachel snafu, I can see where we’ve lost some of our appeal.