Sweets Galore: The Sixth Samantha Sweet Mystery (The Samantha Sweet Mysteries) (2 page)

He’d immediately mastered all of
Sam’s signature recipes and in recent weeks had begun to suggest a few touches
of his own. He’d become a real asset to the business, along with Becky as a
decorator and Jen keeping the display cases in order.

“After I had my second son,” Becky
said, “I went on the protein diet. That worked wonders for me.”

“With a week to get this done, I
think I better be on the water diet,” Sam said with a laugh. “But at the moment
I need some coffee to wake me up.”

She walked through the split in
the curtain that separated the kitchen from the sales room, where she found Jen
waiting on one of their regulars, a tiny white-haired woman who bought one
muffin a day but spent a good thirty minutes choosing it. Jen sent a smile
toward Sam. They both knew the woman was just lonely. Sam mouthed a ‘thank you’
to her assistant for being so patient with her.

Outside the front windows, Sam
noticed that the sun had fully lit the store fronts along the way and the
parking lot for the little strip of businesses was getting full. A green SUV
pulled up to Puppy Chic, and a woman got out with a lanky Irish setter. Kelly
and her English-born employer, Erika Davis-Jones, would have their hands full
with that one, Sam thought. To the other side of her own shop Sam saw Ivan
Petrenko
preparing a table on the sidewalk for his weekly
used book sale.

She turned to the beverage bar
where Jen had set out carafes of their signature blend coffee and hot water for
the tea drinkers. She poured coffee into her mug and resisted adding cream,
turning her back on the variety of sweeteners and flavors.

A vehicle pulled up directly in
front of her shop, a high pickup truck with big tires and shiny chrome wheel
rims, and a man got out. He wore jeans with a black turtle-neck and black
blazer, and a flash of gold showed at his wrist as he locked the truck. Not
from around here, Sam thought. The truck had California plates. Shadows
obscured him for a minute as he stepped under her awning, the one that said
“Sweet’s Sweets” with the slogan “A Bakery of Magical Delights” on a second
line.

Tiny bells tinkled as the door
opened and the man stepped inside. He gave her an intent stare.

“Hello, Sammy.”

She started to ask if she knew
him, but the realization hit.

Jake Calendar.

Chapter
2

Sam felt the blood drain from her
face. Thirty-five years since she’d seen this man, years that fell away as he
gave his familiar grin. He wore his curly brown hair shorter than before, back
when they both worked a summer at that pipeline camp in Alaska, but the
aquamarine eyes were the same, with a glint of flirtation that lit up his face
in every conversation with a female. How gullible she’d been at nineteen.

“You look good, Sammy.”

Same old Jake. Same darned old
charmer.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hey, what’s this? No ‘wow, it’s
good to see you’?” His eyes crinkled as he smiled.
Was that a wink?

She took a deep breath. “It’s
actually pretty unbelievable to see you, Jake. And so I ask again, what on
earth are you doing here?”

“Just happened to be in town.
Thought I’d look you up.”

The elderly lady at the counter
paid for her muffin and left. Jen caught Sam’s attention, sending a little
signal between them, asking if everything was okay. Sam nodded. Jen scurried
toward the kitchen, giving Sam a moment to get her thoughts together.

“And just how did you know
where
to look me up?” she asked Jake.

“Online. You can find anyone
online these days. Boy, those chocolate cupcakes look amazing. Could I get one
of those?”

Damn Facebook
, she thought as she went behind the display case and
picked up the cupcake he wanted. Why had she listened to Kelly’s case for
setting up an account so people would know about the bakery?

“And you just
happened
to be in the neighborhood and in the mood for cake?”

“Something like that.”

She put on a smile and handed him the
chocolate confection, wondering if it were really that simple.

“Sammy, Sammy . . . Can’t a couple
of old friends just have a cup of coffee together?”

Since her own cup was steaming
away, she couldn’t very well deny him one as well. She gestured toward the urns
and told him to help himself. While he dispensed a cup, she paced to the front
door and back. She watched him as he added creamer and sugar.

Still tall and slim, only the
slightest touch of gray at the temples, thinner in the face. Not quite as
muscular as she remembered, but definitely not gone to fat either. The few
wrinkles only added character to his chiseled features. How was it that men
aged so much better than women?

As she recalled he’d been only a
year or so older than herself, so that would put him at about fifty-four, maybe
fifty-five. She couldn’t remember when his birthday was—didn’t really spend any
time thinking about it. She had to admit that he looked good.

He stared steadily at her as he
stirred the coffee with a wooden stick. When he grinned it caused one dimple to
appear on the left side of his face.

“Sit down, Jake,” she said,
indicating one of the bistro tables at the side of the room. Her voice came out
a lot calmer than she expected. It’s only coffee, she told herself. Stop being
so resistant. “So? Life has been good to you?”

He sipped at his coffee,
complimented her on it. “Pretty good, yeah. You know. Both my parents are gone
now. Some wives came and went. I moved around too much, I guess, maybe spent my
money a little too freely.”

“Sometimes that works with women,
sometimes not.”

“Huh, yeah. Guess I didn’t spend
it on the right things.”

She eyed the flashy pickup truck
outside. “Evidently you bought what you wanted.”

He nodded absently, giving the
shop a long perusal. “Looks like you’re doing real good for yourself.”

“Thanks. It was a long road
getting here.” A series of dead-end jobs, a couple that paid well enough to
support herself and her daughter, but realizing the dream of her pastry shop
hadn’t happened until she met up with a nice windfall last year.

“I tried to find you for a long
time, Sammy. You left Alaska real suddenly.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it was
time to move on.”

“But you and I . . . we had a
pretty hot thing going there.” He took an almost sensuous bite from the
chocolate cupcake.

A vivid picture came into her
mind—a tent camp on the tundra, a down-filled sleeping bag . . . She willed
herself not to blush. Wasn’t sure if she actually succeeded.

“Jake, I’m about to be married.
Even if I once had feelings for you, I’m not looking to rekindle anything.”

He held up a hand. “No, Sammy, I
didn’t expect that. Lot of water under the bridge and all.”

“Good. Just so you know. And quit
calling me Sammy. Please.” Thoughts churning, Sam sipped at her coffee to avoid
saying what she was really thinking or admitting anything that really would be
better left unsaid. So many things she’d never told anyone. She changed the
subject. “Jake, it’s rare for someone to just
happen
to be in Taos.”

He polished off the cupcake in two
bites. “All business, right? Well, that’s good. I can see that staying
businesslike has made you successful.”

She waited.

“So, um, there actually is a
business reason I’ve stopped in today.” He rolled his cup between his palms as
if he needed the warmth. “Like you said, life has been pretty good to me too,
recent years. I’m in Hollywood now. You know, the industry. Know a lot of folks
out there . . .”

If he expected an answer to that,
she couldn’t provide the one he wanted. Taos and Santa Fe had their share of
Hollywood celebrities—big names and lesser ones—but Sam had never found a whole
lot worth knowing in most of those she’d ever met. She’d made it this far in
life without needing to cultivate their mostly shallow friendships. She let him
fumble a little when the expected star-struck reaction didn’t come.

“So, anyway, our current project
is a new reality talent show. I know, you’re thinking there are already a lot
of those—
Idol
,
The Voice
. . . But Deor has a whole new high-concept approach.”

“Dior? Isn’t that a fashion
designer?”

“D-e-o-r,” he spelled it out.
“Tustin Deor. You’ve heard of him, I’m sure.
Wild Kittens,
Game Runners
. . .”

He waited but Sam was genuinely
drawing a blank.

“So anyway, Tustin and I are scouting
New Mexico locations, lining up some partners . . . putting together the whole
project, start to finish . . .”

She began to see where this was
going. “Are you asking me for money?”

“Sammy—uh, Sam, do you really
think I stopped by to see an old friend because I want your money? Please,
honey.”

She held up a hand. “I’m not
‘honey,’ Jake. Don’t do that. Just take my word for it that I can’t invest in
any kind of Hollywood project.”

He set his empty cup down, reached
across the table and took her hands. “This isn’t how I wanted this conversation
to go, Sam. I really, honestly just wanted to see you again. For old times’
sake.”

Yeah, right. “Jake, that’s nice.
It was good to see you. I’m happy for your success in the television business.”
She pulled her hands back and stood up. “And now I really have work to do.”

He leaned back in his chair, and
she was afraid he intended to stay awhile, but finally he stood. “Okay, then.
I’ll be in town for awhile. Staying at the La Fonda, just a couple blocks away.
We should have dinner while I’m here.”

She wiggled her fingers at him,
displaying her engagement ring.

“We could
all
have dinner together,” he said.

“We’ll see.” She stood, he left,
and she watched him get into the tricked-out pickup and drive away before she
turned toward the kitchen.

She had no intention of bringing
up the dinner invitation with Beau. It wasn’t like she and Jake had truly been
old friends. They were an old item. Two kids working at a pipeline camp, having
some fun. One forced to grow up; the other evidently hadn’t, even now. She’d
very purposefully left him behind and made no effort to stay in touch. Hadn’t
felt a need to have him in her life.

Besides, she was pretty sure Jake
had already covered everything he planned to cover—a little flattery, some fake
sentimentality, and cut to the chase with the money request. Now that she’d
turned him down, he would surely leave town and go pick on someone else.

“Everything okay, Sam?” Jen asked
as they passed each other near the doorway.

“Yeah. A guy I knew ages ago,” Sam
said.

“He looked kind of familiar. He
hasn’t come in the shop before?” Jen shrugged it off as two young women came
through the front door.

Sam went to the big walk-in fridge
to pull out whatever cakes she was supposed to be decorating today. She still
needed to get out the sketches for her own wedding cake and be sure to go over
them with Julio and Becky. But she found herself staring at the shelves. Jake
Calendar looked familiar to Jen because he looked so much like his daughter; Kelly
and Jen had known each other since elementary school.

Kelly had never really asked many
questions about her missing parent. In these times, so many kids came from
single-parent homes that it just wasn’t that unusual to have no dad in the
picture. She and Sam had formed the perfect little family, all on their own.
Even during the terrible-teens, Sam knew she had it easier than a lot of
parents whose kids got into real trouble. Kelly might not have been the most
responsible kid with her money (another picture of Jake flashed through Sam’s
mind), but she’d never done drugs or much drinking or picked up any nasty
diseases. All in all, Sam felt very lucky.

Over the years Kelly had asked few
questions about her father, and she seemed content with Sam’s sketchy answers:
they’d never been married and the man was not going to be a factor in their
lives. Period.

And now Jake had showed up.

Goose bumps rose on her arms;
she’d stood in the fridge a lot longer than she realized. She picked up two
square tiers that were meant for a small wedding cake and carried them out to
the big stainless steel worktable. As she assembled them and applied creamy
white fondant that she had dressed up with a quilted look, she let the Zen of
cake decorating take over. Away went thoughts of Jake, of her diet, of
everything except the work in front of her as she piped borders and added
strands of rhinestones and ribbons of thinly rolled fondant.

With tweezers she placed tiny
pearlescent candies as the finishing touches on the cake then stepped back to
check her work. Satisfied, she set it into the fridge and pulled out a tray of
sugar flowers for another—white roses and purple asters.

“Sam? Lunch? We’re ordering deli
sandwiches,” Jen said, holding the phone against her shoulder.

Lunch. She’d been determined to
skip as many meals as possible this week but then Becky had lectured her on how
unhealthy that was, not to mention counterproductive. “Just order me something
as low-
cal
as possible.”

By the time the delivery arrived,
Sam felt her energy lagging and knew that the turkey breast on whole grain
bread was a good answer. She’d taken one bite when her cell phone vibrated in
her pocket.

“Samantha Jane, you never got back
to me with the name of that hotel where you’ve got your aunt Bessie and uncle
Chub staying. They need to call and be sure they’re getting a king sized bed.
You know how Chub can’t sleep in one of those tiny, cramped up beds.”

Leave it to her mother to
micro-manage every detail of everyone’s lives. Sam had put Kelly in charge of hotel
reservations and felt sure she’d contacted everyone.