7. Amanda

AMANDA

Icouldn’t wait to get home and call my family. Of course, they recognized the name, and Dad was already doing his gossip run. He still has friends in the finance industry and is always keeping his ear to the ground, so when he gave the thumbs up, I knew that even if I failed, I had my family backing me.

But it was still hard, in light of all that had happened in the last couple of years, to believe that my luck could be this good. I’d only had the thought a week ago, and here, as if by providence, this had fallen into my lap.

Like Evelyn, I spent the rest of the day doing research on how to go about things and waffling back and forth on whether or not I wanted to make this move. Each time I thought about it I got butterflies in my tummy, but the good kind.

I felt as if a weight was lifted off my shoulders each time I thought of giving up my stressful job and doing something I loved for once. Of course, Dad’s suggestion about using my PTO before quitting was sound advice, and I decided later that night that if I did do this, that’s the route I would take.

As the weeks went by, it was obvious that Evelyn was just as excited as I was. She had the connections and the deep pockets to get things done in a timely fashion, so that was one less headache for me to worry about, and she was pretty good at talking me into taking the leap.

I finally made up my mind around week three that sink or swim it would be okay; at least, I can say that I tried. The lawyer Dad found for me went over the contract and was surprised that it was so heavily in my favor. According to him, the Garstons aren’t known for being so magnanimous in their business dealings.

It took me this long to make peace with the decision because I’d never gone this far out on a limb before and was terrified of falling off that limb. But seeing what the place had become was eye-opening. The contractor had knocked down a few walls in the back, and now the kitchen was the same length as the house; it was one huge, wide open space

There were large windows letting in the sunlight, state-of-the-art ovens, mixers and any and everything I could need. When I imagined a startup in my daydreaming days, it never came anywhere close to this.

Those butterflies were doing somersaults, but I can’t wait to get started. I cried tears of joy that night for the first time in years. Finally, something was going right in my life. Now that things had reached this stage, I couldn’t believe that I had become so afraid of life that I had looked a gift horse in the mouth, something my grandma always told me not to do.

Although I had come out of my shell just a little bit, I still noticed some major changes in my personality. I was way more cautious than I used to be and almost skittish in certain circumstances.

I won’t lie to myself that I would live the rest of my life alone because that wasn’t viable for me. I miss the comfort of a man’s arms. I miss having someone to share this new joy with. But behind all those wants was a fear so strong it choked me each time I even thought of finding love again.

It was fine, though; at least I had the new business to look forward to. I’m sure it’ll keep me busy for the next little while anyway, and there will be no time for anything else. It’s a good thing there was no man in my life or I’d not have any time for him in the coming weeks and months, so that was the bright side.

I could convince myself of that during the day, but at night, I ached for company. I thought that once my sex drive had died with Dan, it was gone forever, but now I find myself every once in a while imagining what it would be like to meet someone else. I don’t even have to fall in love; I plan to keep my heart safely out of reach anyway.

But it would be nice to meet someone nice with whom I could share some of my interests. I miss that, but did I ever really have it? It’s hard sometimes to separate the Dan I knew from the man he’d become. I find myself wondering what is real and what is pretend.

I never realized until that whole situation that he was so afraid of his mother or that she’d had such a big influence on our lives. I guess because we started dating young, I never really realized how controlling she was, but to hear my mother and sisters tell it, they always knew.

My family came down to see the bakery that first night when everything was done and fell in love with it. My Dad and brothers walked through the whole building, studying the structure and making sure everything was up to their code. I realized that my family was more relaxed in my presence and thought that was a good sign. They no longer have to walk on eggshells around me to protect my sensitive feelings.

But then my Dad started asking the hard questions. “How are you going to find helpers?”

“I’ve thought about that. I think I’ll try the culinary school in the next town over. I’m sure there are students there who would like a job. The only problem is I don’t want to share Grandma’s recipes with anyone, so I’m trying to figure out a way around that.”

“Evelyn already had an NDA drawn up, but I don’t trust those things. I think what I’ll do for now is keep each department separate. I’ll still be doing the premix myself, so no one ever has to know that, so it should be okay.”

I was still getting anxiety over that one. Every other story I read about opening a bakery was about recipes being stolen for commercial use. I guess I’ll have to get used to it. I plan on starting off by myself in that beautiful kitchen, though, so I won’t worry too much about it. Plus, who knows if I’ll be bombarded with orders?

I was bombarded with orders. The way Amanda’s Sweets is set up, there’s a row of showcases in the front along with waiting chairs, a television, and other amenities for patrons, as well as a cash register. There’s a catering menu available to take home with you, along with all the information you would need. Then, there was a computer for taking online orders that I thought would take at least a day to pick up.

Luckily, I had worked like a dog the week before opening and had plenty to go around, but I wouldn’t have anything for the next day, nor would I have anything to fulfill the online orders. I was both excited and terrified. When Evelyn said she was going to spread the word, I imagined a handful of high-society women coming through the door within an hour of each other.

Instead, it looked like this crazy woman had informed the whole city. She was out there on the sidewalk, schmoozing with the people waiting in line; Mom and Dad were helping out at the counter while I headed to the back to start prepping more cupcakes and cookies as my siblings pulled things from the ovens. Thankfully, no one had ordered a full-size cake as yet so that was a relief.

* * *

I endedup having to look for help much sooner than I had anticipated and had come up with a system that worked for me. Since I had no intentions of ever giving up the baking side of the business, I would do the premix and have the others take care of mixing the different flavors. I’m also thinking about keeping each department separate so that one hand doesn’t know what the other is doing. Can you tell how paranoid I am?

That hard lesson I learned two years ago has given me that as well. My trust seems to have dried up in me that’s why I took so long to agree to Evelyn, and as it turned out, she’d given me the new beginning I’d needed.

I went to the bakery early every morning and dragged my butt home well into the night when the three helpers I’d hired were already long gone. I was happier than I’d ever been before in my life, though my body ached in strange places.

I was out front waiting for any last-minute customers since it was ten minutes to closing time, and each night so far, someone had come in at the last minute. Thankfully, with the help, I was able to stay a little bit ahead, especially since most people seem to have decided on their favorites already, so I have some idea of a head count for the different flavors.

I had just turned my back to the door when I heard the voice behind me. It sent shockwaves down my spine. “Listen, you little pain in the ass; I asked you which flavor like ten times already.” He looked up and noticed me before holding up a finger for me to wait.

Oh my! Oh, my ever-loving…. Sweet Baby…. HooYah. I need a minute. I didn’t know I had a weakness before. I was with the same guy since I was about twelve or thirteen. I have a weakness, and that weakness is bike gear-wearing, tattooed muscle men with salt and pepper hair cut very low, and a voice that vibrated through my very core.

Thankfully, he turned away again because I needed to shake myself and it would’ve looked really strange to him if he saw that.

“Swear to fuck. Okay-okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to swear. You know what, I’ll just get one of each, okay? Alright, little one, see you soon.”

He put his phone away and turned back around. “Sorry about that.” Are those dimples in his cheeks? No, please, no. He smiled in apology, and I mumbled something. Those were no ordinary dimples; those were movie star-grade dimples.

He looked rough, like,…yeah, rough. But not homeless; I need a bath rough. Rough, like he could break bricks with his hands. Then he lifted his head, and I saw his eyes in the light. This time, I couldn’t hide my reaction. My hand fluttered up around my throat as it was getting hard to breathe. His smile widened and I could swear I saw something change in those arctic blue eyes.

“Uh, my little sister had your cupcakes somewhere or another and lost her fucking mind. I mean… fuck it. You the owner?”

“Yes, I am.” When did Eartha Kitt take over my body?

“So, what am I looking at here?” He placed his hand on the glass and leaned down to look into the lower glass case. Mercy, his hands, his fingers. What the hell is wrong with me? Have I been so long without sex that I’ve turned into this thing that lusts after strange men who look like they should be on the front of a most wanted poster?

“Give me six of each flavor.”

Six? There are twelve flavors.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” I should hate him for his snark alone, but that voice, those eyes, those lips, that…. Don’t you dare ogle his privates. Have you lost your mind?

I’m mortified. I want to die on this spot. I’m absolutely certain he caught me looking at his junk. I boxed up his order but my hands didn’t start shaking until I reached for the credit card he held out to me to pay. A Mastercard black card?

“I’m sorry but I have to ask for ID.” I pointed to the notice on the wall so he didn’t think I was targeting him, but I have to admit to having a bit of financial bias. People like Evelyn and her husband had this card. This motorcycle-riding hoodlum does not.

Thief! Dammit, I knew it was too good to be true. My damn radar is on the fritz again. Or maybe that’s all I’m destined to meet. Shiftless, dishonest men. I looked down at the ID and the card. Thunder McCall.

I rung up the sale and handed him back the elite luxury card and tried to hide the embarrassment brought on by my own prejudice. He’d been busy taking the catering menu along with the business card from the little holder we kept out there.

“Thanks for this.” He held up the bags with the boxes before turning to leave. I breathed in deeply and could still smell him. I’m still dazed and confused. How does someone who looks like the ultimate son of anarchy have one of the most elite cards in the world?

I know, I know, you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but come on. How many stereotypes can one guy be? I think I was a little bit salty because he didn’t give me the once-over. I’m accustomed to getting at least one compliment a day from the opposite sex, even when I was married.

I looked down at my hand to see if there was a tan line around my ring finger, but it was long gone. Bastard!

* * *

THUNDER

* * *

“Fuck me!”

“Boss?”

“Get back on your rides; let’s get the hell outta here.” I jumped in the Chiron and backed the fuck outta dodge. Hell no, nope, no fucking way. I fished around for my phone and called my sister. “Joy, have you been to the bakery before?”

“No, why? Is it too far? I looked it up; it’s not that far.”

“Have you ever met anyone who works at the bakery?”

“No, why are you asking me all of these questions?”

“Nothing, bye, I’m on my way.” It’s her; it’s got to be fucking her. But who put her here? No one else knows about her, so why is she here? Now?

Two years, it’s been two years since that day. I remember it like it was yesterday. I’d gone to her company for a meeting with a new financier. She was walking down the hallway with her head down, reading something in her hand.

I remember the hitch in my gut and the pain in my chest. It felt like I knew her, but I knew that we’d never met. But something in me recognized her. I don’t believe in that hocus pocus bullshit, but there was no way someone like me, who lived off of following his gut, could ignore the signs.

I’d asked around and found out her name. But my investigation was short-lived as soon as I realized she was married. I got drunk every day for three weeks straight, called off my business with that company, and swore never to set foot in that fucking town again.

I picked up the phone again. I looked down at the business card, but I didn’t need to; I remembered her name. Amanda Stewart. No, the card said Amanda, but the last name was different. I felt that hitch again and tried to ignore it. No way am I going through that hell again.

“Geoffrey, I need everything you can find on Amanda Tierney.”

“How soon do you need it, boss? How deep are we going?”

“I want it yesterday and I want to know everything that happened in the last three years, everything.”

My boys were following the car on their bikes, and I was glad I’d driven because I would’ve wiped out if I’d been on my ride. What are the odds? What are the fucking odds?

Unless someone has made it their mission in life to fuck with me this time of year. If I remember correctly, it was this time of year the last time I saw her. But what was she doing here? Before I called off my search, I got as far as her home address, and which was about an hour away.

Why would she open a business so far away from home when there were places close by? I should’ve stayed back there and asked her instead of running like a little bitch. You’ve gotta understand, though, the last time I saw her, I ended up in a really bad way, and that time, I hadn’t even seen her fully.

I just got an eyeful. She’s even more stunning up close. I have morals and shit, but I promise that if she hangs around here where I can see her, there’s going to be trouble.