Company Ink Read online

  • • •

  Ben came home to an empty apartment and his landline ringing off the hook. He dropped his jacket on the floor and strode to the corner of the floor where his phone sat. He checked the caller ID, then scoffed as he picked up.

  “You know I have a cell phone, right?”

  “I tried your cell phone earlier; it kept going straight to voicemail,” a young female said. “Mom was afraid you committed suicide.”

  Ben sighed, pressing his back against the wall and sliding down to sit. “I’m sure Elena would like that. We’re still technically married, so she’d get everything.”

  “Seriously, bro. How are you?”

  He smiled to himself as he imagined his sister, Lisa, sitting cross-legged on his mother’s couch with a worried look on her face. She was nearly ten years younger but very protective of him and, in many ways, one of his closest friends despite their age difference.

  “Really, Lis, I’m fine. And how are you? Still living at home, I see,” he teased.

  “Hey, back off. I’m in college and working. Mom’s not getting rid of me until I’ve got my master’s.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think you’re at any risk of Mom throwing you out anyway. You’re the best cook in the house.”

  “How about you? It’s been weeks. Are you moving back home or what?”

  “I’m staying here in the city. I decided I’m not going to let Elena run me out of here. This is my place, my money paid for it.”

  Lisa was silent for a moment. “Ben, she came by today.”

  The news startled him; he pushed off the wall and sat straight up. “She went to the house? What the hell for?”

  “She came over to say goodbye apparently, or that’s what she wanted us to believe. She had tears in her eyes, parting gifts, and everything.”

  “Well, she’s got the award for best actress in the bag.”

  “She definitely does. But,” Lisa paused again, “that wasn’t all she said.”

  He let out a sigh. “I’m not gonna like this. All right, what did she say?”

  “Promise me you won’t get mad. You don’t need any more stress … ”

  “Lis, there’s no way that anything involving Elena isn’t going to piss me off, okay? So just spit it out.”

  “Fine, fine. She was also telling us that you’re mentally disturbed and you’d been emotionally abusive the entire time you two were together.”

  Speechless, Ben felt his blood begin to boil immediately. All those times he’d come home with flowers and woke up the next day to find them in the garbage. After a while, Elena never let him touch her and often coordinated her returns home with times she knew he’d be asleep. All the lies, all the tricks—what it came down to, ultimately, was that Elena played him for a fool. His head began to throb; he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

  “Ben?”

  “What did Mom say? Why did you actually call me?”

  “I called to make sure you were okay, I swear!”

  He could feel the bile rising in his throat. “Do you actually believe her?”

  “No, I know she’s lying,” Lisa insisted, “but Mom sort of ate it up. Elena told her that you threatened to kill yourself if she didn’t come back.”

  “Shit, are you serious?”

  “I managed to calm Mom down after she left, but she’s worried about you. She’s afraid you’re gonna hurt either yourself or Elena.”

  Ben’s head dropped as he clutched the phone tightly. “I can’t deal with this right now.”

  “Bro, I know she’s lying. And I’m sure Mom knows, deep down, that Elena’s full of crap. But you gotta be careful. I don’t know, but I think that piece of trash is out for blood.”

  “I just wanna get on with my life.”

  His statement was met with silence; he knew his sister didn’t know what to say. Then again, he didn’t expect her to. No one expected this bomb his soon-to-be ex had dropped on him, not even Lisa, who, from day one, always seemed a little put out by his ex-wife’s presence. And Elena’s proverbial kick to the groin had been more than he was prepared to deal with, at least for tonight. Suddenly, the news of a new job and an unexpected spark of attraction with someone seemed like nonsense.

  “Look, I’ve gotta go,” he said. “But you should come out and spend some time with me. Give me a couple of weeks to furnish my place again, and you’ll see I’m fine.”

  “I know you’re fine. But okay. I’ll talk to you later?”

  “Yeah, good night.”

  He hung up the phone and trudged toward the master bedroom, where a raised air mattress sat waiting for him. He stopped at the fridge for the last beer before finally calling it a night. In the bare walls of his bedroom, he kicked off his shoes and pushed them against the far wall, where the dresser once stood. Placing the beer bottle on the floor next to the mattress, he pulled his shirt off and hung it on one of the ten hangers Elena had left in the closet. The emptiness of the room contributed to the lousy feeling that radiated through his body, but tomorrow would be a new day. Sleep might take hours at this point, but the beer would at least help get Elena out of his head.

  • • •

  Violet sat sideways on the couch next to her best friend, Ella. It was a rare weekend; they were finally taking a Saturday to stay home in their pajamas with a bottle of wine and a couple of John Hughes flicks.

  “So tell me all about this new general manager! Where did he come from?”

  Violet ran her hands down her face with a flustered giggle. “Damned if I know! But he’s so much yum, I can’t stand it.”

  “It’s been way too long. Steve almost broke you, girl.”

  Violet let out a sigh of agreement. From ages fourteen to eighteen, Violet had been absolutely smitten with the adorable football player. Even as a teenager, he had a type of definition to his body that would have made men twice his age jealous. They had always been friends but, despite how much she liked him, she was never able to build up the courage to tell him. And though she landed her first boyfriend at sixteen, she’d still crushed. High school ended, her relationship ended, and she never stopped dreaming about Quarterback Steve.

  But their paths hadn’t crossed again until Violet was wrapping up an associate’s degree in business management and looking for a new adventure. On a whim, she signed up with her high school alumni association as part of her internship requirements. It was during an alumni mixer that she ran into Steve. He was pouring himself a Scotch and soda; she was working the hors d’oeuvre table.

  He was starting a career with the coaching staff of the New York Jets at just twenty-one. And at twenty, she knew he was everything she wanted in a guy. But their love didn’t last, and an unhealthy obsession made him hard to quit. The level of drama over the six years they were together left her heartbroken, nearly financially broken, and inexplicably damaged. And while she’d felt unable to trust or rely on the opposite sex, she knew the experience had left her stronger, even though she was technically still healing. That was when Violet decided to use the rest of her grandmother’s money to do what she should have done from the beginning. She threw herself into culinary arts and restaurant management—and piles of pastry flour and batches of marzipan quite literally brought her back to life.

  She looked to Ella with a smile. “I haven’t actually crushed in a long time. It feels nice.”

  “You certainly were the crush queen.” Ella laughed. “But it’s nice to see you back. You’re gonna go for it, right?”

  “Are you out of your mind? He’s my manager!”

  “There’s nothing wrong with dipping your pen in the company ink!”

  Violet shook her head, standing up to pour herself another glass of wine. “No, sweetie, everything is wrong with dipping in the … ugh, I don’t even want to say it!”

  “Come on, Vi! What harm can it do?”

  Violet let out an exasperated sigh before saying, “Are you the devil or something? I’m busy tryin
g to build my empire, and you want me to hit on management?”

  “For starters,” Ella replied with a wink. “From the sound of things there’s a lot more heating up in that bakery than just the ovens! And besides, you only live once.”

  Violet grinned despite her best attempt at being dramatically shocked. “I can’t take you sometimes. The worst thing I could possibly do is hit on Ben Preston.” She carefully sat back on the couch, her wine glass lifted to her lips. “Sure, he’s built like a demigod. And his tush looks amazing in khakis.”

  Ella nodded, polishing off her glass. “Mmm-hmm. Deny it to yourself if you want, chica, but you can’t fool me.”

  Violet narrowed her eyes playfully as she glanced at her best friend. “I hate you.”

  “No, you love me, doll. And mark my words, Vi, this isn’t over.”

  Three

  Violet took brisk steps from the train to the bakery on Tuesday, after a couple of well-deserved days off. The bounce in her step could have easily been because of the gentle breeze in the air or the sound of the birds as they slowly awoke from their nightly slumber. She’d always been happy to go to work since starting at Wynne’s Kitchen. From the beginning, Violet was given the freedom to test recipes and meet with Wynne at any point when an especially tasty idea came to mind, thanks to Wynne’s genuine interest in her development as a baker. She reveled in making Wynne proud; the older, sophisticated woman shared many of Violet’s grandmother’s personality traits and, as a result, she and Wynne had already formed a special bond. She also loved spending hours decorating cakes, chatting up customers, and making their buttercream dreams come to life with a wave of her icing wand.

  Life had gotten a little more complicated with Ben on the team, Violet knew, even having spent only one afternoon with him before her weekend started. They’d spent the bulk of his working interview at her station, chatting about production and going over the menu. She knew helping to introduce a new manager to the busiest bakery in the company would be trying and, quite frankly, a pain in the ass. After all, she had promised Wynne she’d give it her all when it came to getting the new guy acclimated to working at The Rock. But damn—the guy didn’t seem to have a clue.

  On a daily basis, Vi was responsible for fulfilling orders to be picked up in the late morning or early afternoon. She also made sure that the bakers and prep cooks were following their lists to the letter and had to deal directly with the general manager if any of the food inventory needed replenishing. And while Violet prided herself on being reliable as all get-out, the general manager needed to know her job inside and out … obviously. He seemed a little stunned by all the information she’d offered up in a short period of time. His facial expression was enough to let her know that training this guy would be no easy feat.

  So far, Ben was a nice enough guy, but he seemed perplexed by The Rock’s popularity with tourists. The fact that he didn’t get the draw of the tastiest treat in the city had chipped away at Violet’s nerves until she wasn’t sure she even wanted to help the guy. She’d somehow gotten it in her head that he wouldn’t take the job seriously, and for her, that meant trouble. Violet didn’t want to spend time in a store where her ideas and work would go unnoticed because one of the people she was supposed to shine for didn’t get it. By the end of her shift, her tolerance for Ben had been at zero. As she left, she’d hoped her brain would clear during her days off and she’d be able to start fresh when she came back.

  Violet arrived at The Rock at 5:30 a.m., roughly a half hour before her shift was scheduled to start. She was enjoying a cup of instant oatmeal and a banana in the office and couldn’t help watching for Ben to walk through the door. The whole thing was weird—part of her wondered how much of the menu he’d forgotten, another part wondered if his eyes were as blue as she remembered. Having gotten so used to being engrossed in her greatest passion—baking—she wasn’t even sure how she could be attracted to a guy who didn’t know the difference between a tart and a pie.

  “Get it together, Vi,” she spoke aloud, pulling her curls into a ponytail and shoving it all under a hairnet.

  The clock now said 6:00 a.m. With a shake of her head, she made her way upstairs to set up her station for the day. The store would be opening in an hour, so the counter staff was helping the kitchen crew by pulling cupcakes out of the oven and onto racks for cooling. Meanwhile, the morning bakers were scooping freshly prepared muffin batter into pans in preparation for the morning rush. Violet took a deep breath, inhaling the heavenly scent. What a way to work.

  The counter staff had been gracious enough to start a pot of coffee for the rest of the openers; Violet thanked them all as she grabbed a large cup before taking the last few steps to her station situated in the front window of the bakery. She was almost afraid to look at last night’s production list; the night manager, Jamie, loved to pile her list high no matter how often Violet reminded her that, as production supervisor, she couldn’t spend all day stuck at her station. Jamie seemed to think that because Violet could ice a three-minute cake, there was no reason she couldn’t bang out ten cakes in a half hour on a daily basis and then do twelve more. It was Jamie’s corporate-machine mentality that Violet was never able to get on board with, so it was with a roll of her eyes that she made a mental note to drop a couple of those specialty cakes on the afternoon icer’s list.

  Setting up her icing wands, tips, and other tools took another five minutes, and she moved on to turning out the layers so that they could finish cooling. Violet looked up at the clock over the register bank; Ben was officially fifteen minutes late.

  She forced the thought of him out of her mind and went to the center counter to help cut bars and set them out for service. Who cares if he’s late? She scooped up salted caramel brownies with a spatula and placed them on miniature paper doilies. She was stacking them on a doily-topped cake dish when she heard a scraping sound come from the bakery’s side entrance. Violet looked up to see Ben letting himself in, presumably with keys given to him by Jay, the operations manager. She lowered her gaze quickly as she waited for the bells over the door to chime as it opened.

  When Ben entered, his eyes were dark and distant. Brow partially furrowed, he practically stared right through her before looking away and heading directly to the office downstairs.

  Violet blinked a couple of times, his strange arrival taking her by surprise. For someone who was such a social butterfly on his first day, the apparent chip on his shoulder was an unexpected change. It made Violet nervous about what to expect for the rest of the day. After all, as Wynne reminded her before she left, Violet would be a crucial part of Ben’s assimilation into the company.

  Jessica, the store’s floor supervisor, approached her with an ecstatic smile. “Vi, have you seen the new guy? My mornings just got much, much better.”

  “Yeah, I started training him last week.”

  Violet zoned out as Jessica began to talk animatedly about Ben. Staring blankly ahead of her as she attached piping tips to their designated pastry bags, she wondered just how closely Jessica had worked with Ben in the two days since he’d joined the team. As the production supervisor, Violet would be interacting with him frequently where it concerned the quality and amount of baked goods being sold, but Jessica would be Ben’s direct link to the floor when he was up to his elbows in administrative work during the day and, therefore, would interact just as much with him as Violet would, sometimes even more so. Violet frowned as she was visited with a sinking feeling that left a rock-sized lump in her tummy.

  Jealous much?

  “And you’ll be training him all this week, Miss Production Sup,” Jessica finished, nudging Violet playfully. “Just when I thought I’d hate your job, in walks Thor with a snazzy haircut.”

  Yanking herself out of the brooding, Violet turned toward her co-worker with a smile. “I’m sorry, are you swooning over our general manager?”

  “Stop pretending you aren’t as excited about training this guy as I am about ogling
him all day,” Jessica teased.

  “Would you set up your floor already?” Violet dismissed with a laugh. “I’ve gotta have a quick talk with the bakers about the lemon muffins. I’m pretty sure if we double the batch we’ll sell out.”

  “Triple it if you want; the customers are nuts about those things. I’ll check in with you later.”

  As Jessica made her way toward the cash registers, Violet leaned against the marble counter and placed a hand on her forehead. The reality that she would indeed be working closely with him sunk in and hit her hard. No one in the store knew the menu and its elements like Violet, regardless of the fact that she’d only been there a number of weeks. The other employees saw working at the bakery as a paycheck; to Violet, it was art, a labor of love, an important step on the road to realizing the dream of owning a bakeshop. Working at Wynne’s Kitchen meant everything to her, so she buried herself in the job, getting to know every nook and cranny and committing it all to memory.

  She had a lot to prove, in a manner of speaking, if she was going to climb the ranks successfully. And whether or not Ben would be a roadblock or a stepping stone still remained to be seen. She did know, however, that Wynne was counting on her to make the store’s transition from old general manager to new general manager as smooth as possible. Violet didn’t want to let her down. All she could hope for at this point was for her dedication to help advance her career with Wynne’s Kitchen instead of turning her into a bottom-rung worker who would serve as everyone else’s leg up.

  She headed toward the baking area, where stacks of fresh baked muffins, cookies, and scones awaited her inspection, and tried to decide whether she should approach Ben or wait for him to come upstairs. Violet stared blankly ahead in a daze as she pulled a blueberry scone apart in her hands.