Cupid's Cupcake Read online

  Cupid’s Cupcake

  By Ivy Sinclair

  Copyright 2013 Leed Lake Publishing

  Kindle Edition

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

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  “You have to do it.” Tiffany’s voice, even coming through the tiny speaker of the phone, was relentless.

  “I don’t want to.” The argument had been going on for the past ten minutes. Belle don’t know why she told her best friend about the email sitting in her inbox from Brian Draper, lead columnist for The Daily Gazette. Clearly, she had experienced a moment of temporary insanity. She was just glad she told Tiffany over the phone and not in person. The verbal lashing was painful enough without seeing Tiffany’s over the top facial expressions.

  “You do want to. You know you do. Because you know as well as I do that you are dying to quit that dead end job and do something with your life! This is your chance to break out of the boring humdrum mold routine you are in. You have a gift, Belle. Geez, it’s like the destiny gods dropped a shoe on your head.”

  “Tell me what you really think about me, Tiffany.” Belle knew that her life had taken a rather listless bent of late, but it wasn’t helpful having Tiffany so blatantly pointing that out. It was difficult for Belle not to be annoyed with her know-it-all friend.

  The part that Belle didn’t care to admit was that Tiffany was right more often than not, and on this particular topic, she was spot on. Belle’s job had no potential of becoming anything more than what it was: a mundane desk job that she could do in her sleep. But she wasn’t ready to jump ship on it though on the flimsy idea that she had some kind of ‘gift’ like her friend so wholeheartedly believed. Belle had one perfect creation that she could take credit for, and it was her secret fear that if she tried ever do anything with it, that everyone would discover she was nothing more than a one-trick pony.

  Belle tried to focus on the discussion at hand. “You’ve read this guy’s stuff. Why on earth would he want to do a story on me and my cupcakes unless he had some kind of ulterior motive?”

  “I admit that it seems a little out of the blue, but c’mon, Belle. You couldn’t ask for better publicity. Everyone reads his column. This is exactly the kind of thing you need to jump into that business you’ve always said you wanted to start. You just needed the right motivation. Plus, hello, the guy is yummy.”

  Belle rubbed the bridge of her nose. Just when she thought that the situation couldn’t get any worse, she now had to deal with the fact that the reporter in question was ‘yummy’. “This isn’t a date, Tiffany. It’s an interview. How am I supposed to explain how everything started around Cupid’s Cupcake without sounding like a pathetic moron? He’s going to think I’m a nut job, and then he’s going to write about the fact that I’m a nut job, and then no one in his or her right mind would want to buy anything from me. I shouldn’t have told you that I ever thought about opening my own store someday. I was drunk, and you were supposed to forget that.”

  “You want my advice?” Tiffany ignored Belle’s last comment and barreled forward.

  “Not particularly,” Belle said. Actually, that was the whole reason that Belle’s fingers dialed Tiffany’s number as soon as she read Draper’s email. But she would have preferred a lot less lecturing after her plea for wisdom and guidance. Tiffany was a year younger than Belle, but her life was essentially perfect. Belle’s life was a hot mess on a regular basis.

  “Dig out that business plan that you wrote in college. Update it. Go to the bank and ask for a small business loan. Then sit down with this guy and pitch the hell out of what you can do. You have an in with Cupid’s Cupcake, but you can totally play that down and talk all about your grand plans for the future. By the time the story comes out, you’ll be in the perfect position to take a limited number of orders for Valentine’s Day. Take that money and reinvest it back into the business. Figure out some other spin-off cupcake recipes. Rinse and repeat.”

  Belle had no doubt that the next time she looked at her email she would find the checklist of the items that Tiffany just rattled off. Tiffany loved checklists. Belle did not. The idea of having her life so organized made her skin itch. Belle preferred things to be a little more spontaneous and messy. Her theory was that it made things more interesting, but so far it hadn’t actually worked out that way in her own life.

  “You make it sound so easy,” Belle whined. She flopped down on her couch and stared at the ceiling. “I can’t do things like you can. It’s a guarantee that if something can go wrong around me, it will. I’m the unluckiest person I know.”

  “Which is another reason Cupid’s Cupcake has always been such a strange anomaly,” Tiffany chuckled.

  “Thanks for reminding me. I can’t do this. I’m going to ignore his email. It’s a stupid idea.” Belle wanted to crawl back into bed, throw the covers over her head, and forget that the email ever existed.

  “Oh my God! You drive me crazy, Belle! At least agree to talk to the guy. It wouldn’t kill you to have a little social interaction in any case. You are way to young act like such an old lady. Look, I gotta go. I just got home and Tom has dinner on the table.”

  “That’s so sweet of him.” Belle felt a wave of envy. Tiffany and Tom got married after college graduation. They were high school sweethearts. Belle never saw them fight. They had the kind of relationship that she always envied.

  Belle was hopelessly single. She was fairly certain that she was some kind of man repellent. She hadn’t had a serious date in months. With another Valentine’s Day staring her in the face and no prospects in sight, she had a feeling she’d be sitting on the sidelines for the holiday once again.

  “We’re not done yet. I swear if you blow this opportunity then I’m going to stop being your friend.”

  “You’ll never stop being my friend. You love me, and you know it,” Belle said smugly. The next thing she knew she heard a click that told her Tiffany hung up on her. There was a part of her that enjoyed getting her friend riled up. But then she remembered that Tiffany was probably right, and she was sullen again.

  Belle opened up my laptop and stared at the email in question.

  Hi Isabelle,

  My name is Brian Draper. I write a daily column for The Daily Gazette. The paper is currently scheduling stories for the month of February. Someone mentioned that they heard your ‘Cupid’s Cupcake’ was quite the draw for rounding out the perfect, romantic Valentine’s Day dinner. I was unable to find a website for your business, but happened across your email address here. I would love to talk with you and find out more about your unique sweet treat. I’m sure my readers would appreciate the holiday heads up as well. You can contact me at your earliest convenience at the number listed in my signature, or via email.

  I look forward to hearing from you!

  Brian Draper

  Columnist, The Daily Gazette

  Since Belle was reading the email through her online, professional networking account, Brian Draper’s picture stared at her from the top of the message. It wasn’t the average, bland profile headshot. Brian’s picture showed him standing on a beach in a fitted white linen shirt and linen pants with the sun setting in the background. His blond hair complimented his golden tan and his smile was almost brighter than the sun behind him. He looked cool and relaxed, a feeling that was almost entirely unknown in Belle’s world. She figured he ha
d to be around thirty years old.

  To Tiffany’s point, the man was undeniably attractive. Belle chewed on her lip. Maybe she was blowing the whole thing out of proportion. He’d probably ask a few questions over email or have a short call to find out what he wanted to know. She figured that it wouldn’t take him long to figure out that there was no story there. Then he’d go on his merry way. But there was something appealing at the idea of talking to an attractive man. It had been awhile.

  The only nagging thing in the back of Belle’s mind was the fact that, over the course of the last couple years, Brian Draper spearheaded some investigative reporting exposes that brought to light some nasty business practices in the area. Although his daily column normally covered the small business news in town, it seemed as if he was expanding his reach.

  It was stupid. The nonsense around Cupid’s Cupcake was a coincidence anyway, and it wasn’t as if she believed the myth herself. She was being a ninny, and one that was a bit to full of herself to boot.

  Belle stewed on Draper’s email throughout the next day, and after two calls and endless text messages from Tiffany, she found herself worn down. After arriving home from work, she stared at the email for another thirty minutes trying to decide what to do. Finally, cursing Tiffany, she grabbed her cell and dialed Brian Draper’s phone number. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was six-thirty. Perfect. He should be gone for the day, and she would leave a voicemail.

  “Draper.” His gruff voice sounded hurried.

  Belle dropped the phone in surprise. The phone flew underneath the coffee table. “Sorry! Sorry! Hang on a second!” She scrambled trying to see it and then smacked her head on the underside of the glass top. “Ow!” She finally got ahold of the phone and dragged it back out from beneath the table and pulled it to her ear.

  “Hello?” She heard a smile in his voice.

  Belle was going to hang up. She was mortified and had yet to say a word directly to him. But then she heard Tiffany’s voice browbeating her for being a coward in her head. She would never let Belle live it down if Belle didn’t go through with the story. Belle straightened her spine and used her most professional phone voice.

  “Mr. Draper. This is Belle Rivers.”

  “Ms. Rivers! I’m delighted you called,” he said. “I was afraid that my email may have been a bit random and so when I didn’t heard from you right away, I figured you decided to ignore it. You just made my night.”

  With that kind of enthusiastic response, Belle wished she had called the day before. His smiling face was still up on her computer screen. He really was quite yummy.

  Belle made a decision. She would be confident, charming, and interesting. She had taken an acting class in college. It hadn’t been that long ago. “I must admit I’m flattered that you would even consider a story about my little cupcake.” She was shocked to hear the flirtatiousness in her voice.

  “I’m sure you know that cupcakes are all the craze right now, and when I caught wind of yours, I have to admit I was intrigued. People rave about it, so it must be something special.”

  “That’s quite flattering. It’s something that I just stumbled into by accident that just took off,” she said. She felt wholly unprepared for the conversation. She should have written down some notes before she called. She wished for even one-tenth of Tiffany’s organizational skills at times like these.

  “Well, you are being modest now. From what I’ve heard, we aren’t talking about just any cupcake. I even had a direct quote from one of my co-workers that she would kill to get her hands on one for her Valentine’s Day dinner.”

  Belle knew what he was angling for, but she desperately wanted to keep him distracted with other details because where he was leading was ridiculous. “It is my grandmother’s recipe. I modified it and ended up being as surprised as anyone at how well it turned out. But it’s top secret stuff.”

  “I’m sure it’s delicious, but actually I was curious to hear your thoughts about the perception that if someone gives you a Cupid’s Cupcake on Valentine’s Day, it’s a sign that you are going to get married. According to my own tally, the cupcake to proposal ratio is pretty high.”

  And there it was. She mentally groaned.

  “That certainly sounds silly, doesn’t it?” Belle kept her voice light, but inside her stomach was churning. “I mean, I’m not whipping up magic cupcakes over here or anything like that.”

  “Do you know how many people attribute their engagement to your cupcake?” Suddenly his questions were more pointed. She knew they had reached the meat of his interest in her story.

  Say no, say no, say no. “I have no idea,” she lied.

  “Fifteen that I’ve found so far,” Brian said.

  Belle felt faint. “Well, like I said, that is silly. Flattering, but silly. Over the last couple of years, I’ve made my cupcakes for some family and friends because I always thought it helped make their day a little bit more special.”

  “So it’s true that you only make them once a year?”

  “Yes,” Belle said. “It’s called Cupid’s Cupcake for a reason. It’s a Valentine’s Day themed cupcake.” Her mind was still reeling. Fifteen? She knew of five. No wonder she had drawn the attention of Brian Draper. He probably thought that she was spiking her cupcakes with some version of a love potion. With that kind of angle, she was an intriguing little story that would probably sell some extra papers.

  Something else was pushing its way into her consciousness. It was slowly overpowering the dread. It took her a minute to put her finger on it. It was excitement. Maybe Tiffany was onto something. It was the perfect marketing promotion at the best possible time of year that could bring in a windfall of cash. Belle looked at the calendar. Three weeks to Valentine’s Day. It was doable.

  “Normally I’d conduct this type of feature interview over the phone, but I admit that being able to taste test this famous creation would be the culmination of the story. Could I arrange a time to meet with you in-person for a little cooking demonstration?”

  Belle’s mind was racing. She was trying to remember all the things that Tiffany told her that she had to do. Then she looked at Draper’s profile picture again, and it sent flutters through her body. She wouldn’t mind meeting him in-person at all. “Uh, sure,” she said.

  “I’d love to hear about and see the whole process, from inception to the end product. It’s what my readers would expect. But based on my research, it looks you don’t have a storefront?”

  A laugh almost escaped her lips. A storefront? Belle could barely pay the rent on her apartment. Then horror blossomed in her mind. She couldn’t let him see her apartment. “Like I said, it’s small production that I only do once a year, so I’m able to use a friend’s kitchen. I’m sure she won’t mind if I borrowed the space for us to meet.” She sounded a lot more confident than she felt. Tiffany would be beside herself when Belle told her that she was taking over her kitchen for the interview.

  “Sounds great! My deadline is in just a few days, so would we possibly be able to meet tomorrow?”

  “I need to check with my friend, but I think that will work if we can meet after six,” she said. Belle did some quick calculations in her head. She would have to leave work early in order to have time to shop.

  “Shoot me an email when you have confirmation of the time and the address where I should meet you,” Brian said. Now he was all business. “I appreciate the fast response and look forward to meeting you.”

  They said their goodbyes and then she ended the call before sinking back into her couch. As she stared at the phone in her hand, thoughts whirled haphazardly through her mind. She had to call Tiffany. The situation called for some serious strategizing.

  Belle looked over at the far wall. Five smiling couples looked back at her. She stood and made her way over to them. Tiffany and Tom were in the first picture. They were the first recipients of the new and improved Cupid’s Cupcake recipe her junior year of college. The whole myth started with them.<
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  Belle grabbed her phone. She needed to stop daydreaming and start working on a plan to change her luck and hopefully, her entire destiny.

  “This is going to end badly.” Belle couldn’t stop her fingers from twitching on the countertop. A million thoughts were buzzing through her mind. She felt as if a movie reel of her life scrolled through her mind reviewing every time in her life where she tried to take charge and move it in a positive direction. It was a terrible movie.

  “This is going to be awesome. It’s the beginning of your new life.” Tiffany put a glass of red wine in her hand. “Here. This will help take the edge off.”

  “I don’t want to drunk bake.” Belle took a sip of the wine anyway.

  Tiffany snorted and rolled her eyes. “You also don’t want to pass out because you’ve gotten yourself all worked up into hysterics like you are prone to do.”

  Tiffany had her, and Belle knew it. She looked at the wine bottle. A small consolation was that her friend knew how to take care of her. Belle had a serious weakness for California cabernets. She looked down at her pale pink blouse and cringed. She was trying too hard. “I should change. I look like a poor, destitute nobody. He’s going to take one look at me and think that he made a mistake. He’ll turn around and walk out of here, and I’m going to be stuck as a nobody for the rest of my life.”

  Tiffany put her hand on Belle’s arm. Belle could see the sympathy in her eyes. “Maybe you should have gone into acting. Dramatic much? You look great, Belle. Besides, I have nothing left in my closet for you to try on. And for your information, that shirt cost four hundred dollars. You certainly don’t look poor.”

  “Why can’t you guys stay? Whatever happened to moral support?” Tiffany and Tom willingly gave over their kitchen to Belle for her interview, but were going out to dinner instead of hanging around. Belle desperately wanted the buffer between her and the gorgeous Brian Draper.