in distress any more than Logan was a knight in shining armor. Or Paul Bunyan.
“Things are going great out here,” Caroline said to fill the uncomfortable silence. “How’s everything in the back office?”
“It’s a slow start, but I’ll figure it out.”
The two women, who seemed to be making a point of not looking at Logan, exchanged a look.
“Of course you will,” Caroline couldn’t help saying. Whether Logan should have stepped into the conversation or not, she could see that it had put him in an uncomfortable position with two of the employees on the first day. The least she could do was be gracious over his sacrifice if he would have to deal with that awkwardness. “There’s a learning curve to working with new software.”
“Hopefully, the hill won’t be too steep. I didn’t bring my climbing gear.” He chuckled at his own joke though no one else joined him.
“You know I could give you a few pointers—”
Logan raised his hand to stop her. “Thanks, but I’ll figure it out.” He turned back to the employees. “Well, carry on, ladies.”
Without waiting for a response, he returned to the office but closed the door only halfway.
“Sorry if we were too…er…invasive,” Kamie said as soon as he was gone, and her partner nodded her agreement.
“Thanks.” Caroline almost wished they’d apologized to Logan instead.
“We’ve just heard so much about your two families since your mom moved back to Markston that it’s hard not to get caught up in the stories,” Margie said with a shrug. “Especially the matchmaking part.”
Caroline slid a glance toward the open office door, from where Logan had to be able to hear the conversation. Whether he’d denied it or not, he’d guessed that their mothers had been trying another one of their matchmaking ambushes. Could he have been right? She hated admitting that she suspected it, too, but she hated even more that her palms dampened at just the thought of it.
“Well, it’s good that you’ll be here helping Logan,” Margie began again. “He’ll need it.”
Again, Caroline’s gaze darted toward that open door, and she was even sorrier this time that Logan could overhear them. Okay, she’d doubted his abilities herself when her mother had said he would be operating the bakery during his mother’s recovery, but she hated that no one seemed to be in his court.
“Logan would have had this place in shipshape in no time. With or without any help.”
“Of course,” Kamie said.
Her comment must have surprised the women as much as it had Caroline because both gave her guarded looks before turning back to their cakes. She told herself her small show of support was only to help Logan establish himself in a position of authority so he could manage the business. At least, that was the only way she could explain it.
Caroline returned to her own task of familiarizing herself with the kitchen tools. After she closed the last drawer, she glanced up at the clock and stepped down the hall to the office. Through the crack in the door, she could see Logan crouched over his mother’s laptop and tapping keys at an angry pace. He must have sensed her presence, because he turned back to her.
“Do you need something?”
“I was going to offer again to help you out with that software program.”
The side of his mouth lifted. “No. Really. I’m good. If I don’t figure it out soon, I’ll call for help.”
“Okay, I guess,” she said.
Caroline didn’t even know why she was belaboring the point other than that she felt indebted to Logan. First, he’d taken pity on her and agreed to work with her after he’d learned about her joblessness, and then he’d come to her rescue with the busybodies. She wasn’t used to feeling beholden to anyone, and it didn’t sit well.
She had to make it up to him; that was all there was to it. She would already have done that if he would only allow her to give him a computer mini-course.
Well, she would just have to find another way to return his favor. Maybe she could teach him how to do inventory lists or complete supply order forms. She didn’t care if she had to learn to operate the giant mixers just so she could teach him how to mix up a yellow cake batter. In the next few days, she would find something to do so she could settle her debt to Logan Warren.
“Well, that’s just not good enough.”
The sound of the screeching female voice reached Caroline’s ears the moment she stepped inside after her quick lunch trip home to drop off her luggage. She’d been sure that when she returned to the bakery wearing her business-casual ensemble of black slacks and a crisp white blouse the rest of the day would be a breeze. Wrong.
“I don’t want one wedding cake,” the woman continued, her voice still a few decibels above a speaking voice. “I want each of my guests to have an individual cake.”
“Of course,” Logan said in an unnatural-sounding voice. “Multiple cakes do make a statement, but I’m not sure, based on the budget you’ve just presented me, that they would be the best choice.”
Caroline cringed as she hung up her purse on the hook next to Logan’s black leather jacket and motorcycle helmet. She hurried into the kitchen, where several employees were crowded near the swinging door. Had Logan never heard of the business adage, “the customer is always right”?
Since none of the employees were bothering to hide the fact that they were eavesdropping, Caroline didn’t pretend, either. She leaned close and spoke out the side of her mouth. “What’s going on out there?”
“Just another Bridezilla with big ideas and too small a wedding budget,” Margie told her.
“Why isn’t anyone helping him?” But as soon as she asked it, Caroline realized she didn’t want anyone else to do so. She’d been looking for a way to repay Logan for stepping to her defense earlier, and this was perfect. She knew how to appease irate customers with her eyes closed and both hands tied behind her back.
Squeezing past the decorators and two cake bakers, she pushed the swinging door open. Through the glass in the bakery counter, she could see Logan seated across from the furious bride-to-be.
“Well, you’d better find a way to make it happen, or I’ll be taking my business elsewhere. Amy’s isn’t the only bakery in town, you know.”
Certain the deal was heading south faster than a flight from Indianapolis to Orlando, Caroline skirted around the counter and hurried toward the table where Logan sat, staring down at the price binder instead of at his customer.
He looked up and lifted a hand to stop Caroline, but she ignored him. He might not be happy about this now, but he would thank her later when she saved him from losing a customer on his first day at work.
“What Logan was about to say is that we at Amy’s Elite Treats would be delighted to work with you to make a cake or cakes that will meet all of your needs and impress your wedding guests.”
As
