Bake Me A Cake Read online

  After losing it all, she had been in a state of mild depression, as that bakery was her life. She poured her heart and soul into the business, and having it ripped away from her was the worst thing that could have ever happened to her. She was without her store, without money, and to her, it felt like she was without a purpose.

  Luckily, her life-long friend, Jess, came to her rescue and offered her a job at her coffee shop, Latte’s Away. She didn't have any other option at the moment, and even after almost a year of working there, she couldn't find anything else. She was grateful towards Jess for helping her out, but she knew that she couldn't stay there forever. She was still barely breaking even every month, and she was tired of it. She needed to get out of the rut she was in at the moment, but she had no clue as to how.

  “You’ll be fine,” she whispered to herself and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She reached out and switched off her bed lamp and closed her eyes before burying her face in her pillow.

  Chapter Two

  Henley arrived at the coffee shop before sunrise, as she wanted to get a head start on the day. It was Friday, which was their busiest day, especially at lunchtime, as most people only seemed to work until then.

  Growing up in Oceanside, she knew the town inside and out and was familiar with every aspect of it. It had a more relaxed vibe to it, as she quickly learned that when she moved to Sacramento.

  Oceanside was relaxed and didn't have the hustle and bustle of a big city. It was her home and she loved being back, even though she had to start completely over, she still had her old friends, which was a comfort in itself.

  She parked Betty in the parking lot across the street and took a brisk walk to the coffee shop’s front door. She unlocked it with her own key, went inside and disabled the alarm. She locked the front door again and made her way into the kitchen. She switched on the lights and glanced around her. As usual, the kitchen was at her disposal whenever she felt like it. She took out all the ingredients and implements that she was going to need, and washed her hands before she began.

  Henley had always had a natural inclination towards baking. Even as a young girl she would help her grandmother in the kitchen. Her grandmother taught her everything she knew and Henley loved her for that.

  She had a love for baking that seemed unmatched by anything, and she would whip up the most wonderfully creative and delicious baked goods from scratch. She hummed to herself as she mixed the ingredients into a batter, tapping her foot to the beat of the song she had in her head. After pouring the different batters into their respective pans and molds, she popped them into the confectioner’s ovens. She then grated large pieces of chocolate into fine slivers as the smell of decadence filled the air.

  “You’re here early,” a voice suddenly said, breaking the silence.

  Henley whirled around and stared at Jess with wide eyes.

  “Holy crap. You almost gave me a heart attack,” Henley said breathlessly while clutching onto the block of chocolate.

  “I could say the same about you,” Jess chuckled. “I saw the lights on and thought someone was cleaning out my safe.”

  “You have a safe?” she asked.

  “No, but still. Why are you here so early?”

  “I thought I would bake for today. It’s Friday, which is usually really busy from midday.”

  “Right. That’s good of you to take some initiative.”

  “I hope that’s okay.”

  “Of course. People love the things you bake.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I don't want to piss off the boss,” Henley said with a shrug.

  “Well, you always outdo yourself. If you’re not careful, I might have to give you a promotion or a raise or something.”

  “That would certainly help. Then I might not have to keep looking for a second job,” Henley sighed.

  “You’re doing the best you can, okay. Don’t you ever forget that.”

  “Thanks, Jess,” she answered gratefully and glanced down at the work surface in front of her. “I’ll be done in about an hour at the most.”

  “That’s fine, take your time. I’ll be in the office. I need to order for the week.”

  Henley nodded as Jess left the kitchen and she sighed as she looked down at the chocolate shavings on the plate in front of her. She packed the block of chocolate back in the fridge and took out the caramel syrup.

  “She’s right. I am doing the best I can. I should really stop being so hard on myself,” she muttered in a low voice and turned to the oven. She took all the pans out, placing them on the heat-resistant counter. While she waited for them to cool, she went back into the shop and switched on the coffee machines. It was light outside and the prospect of a new day and a new mindset could be just what Henley had been looking for in her life.

  ***

  Dean secured the final bracket of the chandelier into the ceiling and tightened the screw with his screwdriver. He made sure it was tightly secured before slowly descending down the ladder and glanced up at it.

  “That looks great, Dean,” Karen said to him and he glanced at her from across the room.

  “I’m glad you’re happy, Karen,” he said.

  “I am rather impressed that you managed to redo all the lighting in the house so quickly, not to even mention doing it all by yourself.”

  “It’s my job, Karen.”

  “Thank you, Dean,” Karen said as she approached him with an envelope and handed it to him. “I put in a little extra for you, for a job well done.”

  “Thank you, Karen. That wasn't necessary, but thank you.”

  “Oh, you deserve it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How’s your daughter doing?”

  “She’s good. I spent the day with her yesterday, and it was great.”

  “I’m still shocked to hear that you and your wife split up. You two were so good together.”

  “People change, or don’t change, but that’s life. Some things work out, and some things don’t. The important thing is, that we move on with our lives,” Dean answered flatly and grabbed his toolbox from the table.

  “Well, when you see her again, tell her I send my love.”

  “I will do.”

  Dean walked to the front door, with Karen following behind him. “If there is anything that you need, let me know.”

  “I will, thank you, Dean.”

  “Have a nice day,” Dean said and left the house.

  Karen was a mutual friend of his and Claire, but they weren't very close to start with. Dean had done odd jobs for her in her house, but she approached him recently to redo all the lights and lighting fixtures in her lavish home, including a ten thousand dollar chandelier in the living area. Dean was much too happy to agree to it, as it meant that he could save that money for when he needed it.

  Like buying an expensive cake for Cora’s ridiculous princess party.

  He drove to the bank to quickly deposit the money into his account and when he came back out, he glanced at the list of bakeries on Claire’s list.

  He rested his hands on the steering wheel and shook his head, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. It was just after three and he heard his stomach grumbling rather dinosaur-like. He was starving and hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. He drove past an interesting looking coffee shop and parked his car. It’s not normally a place where he would go, but he was too hungry to really care. He knew people would stare at him, that was a given. Oceanside was a rather preppy and conservative town, especially the area where he was in right now. It wasn't an area where he normally found himself in, and this was exactly the reason why.

  Dean wasn’t exactly the clean-cut looking guy. His left arm was covered in tattoos, he had a rather grungy type of style, which made the tattoos look even more than it was. He looked rough and rugged to most people, but he wasn't really. Sure he enjoyed the outdoors, but he wasn't the type of person who would get into fights, or drove a motorcycle, at the risk of sounding judgmental. Dean also didn'
t consider him a badass tough guy, but he believed in standing up for what he believed in.

  If that made him a badass, who was he to argue.

  He stepped into the coffee shop and as predicted, he attracted the attention of most of the patrons. He pretended not to care and hid his growing self-consciousness as he walked to the counter where a young woman with dark brown hair stood and smiled at him.

  “Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you with anything?”

  “Can I get an extra strong coffee, please?”

  “Sure. Hot or cold milk?”

  “Hot, please.”

  “Any sugar?”

  “Two please,” he answered and glanced at the display of baked goods. “What’s good here?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your baked stuff.”

  “That depends on what you like.”

  “Well, I’m starving so...” His voice trailed as a blonde woman walked passed him and he blatantly stared at her. “Wow.”

  “Oh, she’s not for sale,” the brunette pointed out.

  “That’s a pity,” he murmured, but as soon as he realized what he had said, he tore his eyes away from her, which was much harder than he thought it would be and looked at the brunette with a frown. “What?”

  She chuckled and shook her head. “You’re blushing.”

  “Just give me anything that’s good and filling, please,” he stuttered and took out his wallet.

  “Okay,” she chimed with amusement.

  Dean glanced conspicuously over his shoulder at the blonde and he smiled slightly. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. She was talking to a guy who looked like he was a delivery man, but Dean wasn't quite sure, as his attention was solely focused on her. She had long blonde hair that was tied up in a high ponytail, and she had beautiful eyes, bright and happy. She wore a fitted white t-shirt and a pair of black jeans that fit her so perfectly, it was as if it was made for her. Best of all, she was wearing a brand of sneakers that he was familiar with.

  “Her name is Henley.”

  Dean turned back to the brunette and frowned. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Does she work here?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “She does.”

  “Cool,” he said.

  “That’ll be six ninety-two.”

  “Sure,” he said and took out a few bills from his wallet.

  “You can go talk to her if you want.”

  “No, I’m okay,” he said and shook his head.

  “Okay, then.”

  Dean took his coffee and the brown paper bag that the brunette had put his order in and left the shop.

  When he got to his car, he climbed inside and placed his food next to him, and his coffee in the cupholder on his dashboard. He ran his fingers through his short dark hair and exhaled slowly.

  “Wow.”

  He had never felt this nervous and intimidated by a woman that beautiful in his entire life before today. Not even Claire had that effect on him when he first met her. He sat in the car, pondering his next move and frowned. He had to go back, he had to talk to her. Maybe even get her number.

  “Shit, I am out of practice.”

  In all fairness, it was true. He hadn’t asked a woman out for a long time, and he felt a little out of his depth. He also knew that he would regret it if he didn't.

  He glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror and frowned. He wasn't exactly dressed to the nines, but now was not the time to doubt himself. He climbed out of the car and walked back into the coffee shop.

  The brunette was still at the counter, but the blonde was nowhere to be seen. He approached the counter and the brunette eyed him with a slight grin.

  “Hey, I was just in here.”

  “I know, I remember you,” she said with a smile.

  “Is she here?”

  “She’s in the back, I’ll call her.”

  “Thanks,” he muttered as she walked around the corner and called out, “Henley, there’s a customer that wants to talk to you.”

  “Coming,” she called out and within less than a minute, she came around the corner and walked up to the counter.

  “Hey, I heard you wanted to talk to me,” she said with a smile, and Dean was mesmerized all over again.

  “Yes, uhm, I...” he stuttered and she raised her eyebrows at him.

  “Are you okay?” she asked him. “You’re not having a stroke, are you?”

  “Luckily for you, she knows CPR,” the brunette chuckled as she walked passed and he laughed nervously.

  “I’m Dean.”

  “Nice to meet you, Dean. I’m Henley.”

  “I like your name.”

  “Thank you. Apparently, I was named after a famous country singer from Texas or something.”

  “I wouldn't know.”

  “Yeah, you don’t look the type.”

  “Right.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him and frowned, which meant that Dean had to think of something to say very quickly.

  “Your shoes,” he said and motioned to the floor.

  “What about them?”

  “I like them.”

  “So do I,” she said with a suppressed smile. “They’re comfortable, especially when I’m on my feet all day.”

  “I agree. I have the same pair. I mean, the same brand.”

  “Great.” She raised an eyebrow at him expectantly and asked, “Is there something else that I can help you with?”

  He cleared his throat and chuckled. “I don't want to come off too strong, but I think you are really beautiful.”

  “Thank you. That’s very sweet.”

  “Would you be interested in going for coffee sometime?”

  “Here?”

  “No, of course not here. Wherever you want.”

  She chuckled and looked at him. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes,” he answered hesitantly.

  Hopefully, she would see that his expression was serious, even though he was stuttering like a complete and utter idiot.

  ***

  Henley looked at this jittery man in front of her and narrowed her eyes again. She studied him, and she had to admit that he was very good-looking, and not in a conventional way. He had a tattoo sleeve on his entire left arm, stopping just short of his wrist, and another tattoo on his right arm peeked out from under the short sleeve of his gray t-shirt. He was tall and had broad shoulders, which she liked. He had a strong jawline, stubble on his chin, and brown eyes that reminded her of a smooth and rich chocolate mousse. His hair was cut short on the sides and longer on the top, but not too long.

  Just right.

  “How do I know you’re not a psychopath?” she asked eventually.

  “I’m not. I swear.”

  Even though Henley didn't know him at all, something about him seemed very trusting. Maybe it was the way he spoke to her, not like most of the men who just looking for a hookup or the fact that he looked at her the same way that men in silly romantic movies looked at women.

  Was she being crazy?

  Was it because she was sleep-deprived?

  Or was it because he was the type of guy who would turn out to be the nicest person in the whole world if she just gave him a chance?

  She cocked her head at him and nodded. “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?”

  “We can go for coffee, but just as friends.”

  A smile formed on his lips and needless to say, it was the most gorgeous smile she had seen in a long time. Henley was not the type of woman who could instantly fall in love with someone, so she was a bit more aloof than usual. She didn't want to seem desperate.

  The last time Henley had been in a relationship, was about two years ago, but the man who she thought was nice and kind and loyal turned out to be quite the opposite, that's why she would never judge anyone on their appearances anymore.

  Her ex-boyfriend, Scott, was the epitome of the ladies’ American Dream. He
was attractive, wealthy and charming, but it turned out that possessive, jealous, and abusive were also among the traits he was bestowed. Henley left him as quick as she could, and the restraining order which she laid against him was still in place, which definitely made her sleep better at night.

  Granted when she was able to sleep.

  “That is good to hear, and I won’t disappoint.”

  “Good,” she answered and glanced at him, still with a tilted head. “You don’t look like the type of guy who can disappoint.”

  Dean pursed his lips but smiled regardless.

  Henley chuckled and scribbled her number on a napkin and placed it in front of him. “There you go.”

  “Thank you. I will guard this with my life.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Well, I better get going, but I’ll speak to you soon.”

  “Okay. Have a great day.”

  “You too.”

  He hesitated for a second as if he wasn't quite ready to leave yet, but he turned and left the coffee shop.

  “He’s cute.”

  Henley whirled around and looked at Jess standing by the counter, only a few feet away from her.

  “I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You gave him your number, so you must think so too.”

  Henley pursed her lips, not saying a word.

  “You must think he is hot though.”

  “I do, but I think there is more to him than that.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “His eyes, they look sad, like he’s been through a lot. Maybe he’s lonely.”

  “I’m sure you can cure his loneliness.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” she answered and rolled her eyes. “I meant that he could probably use a friend.”