Page 2 of A Taste of Trouble

Liv smiled. She had the best friends in the world.

“I want to check a couple more things in the back before I leave,” Nancy said. She scurried away in a fluster behind the curtain.

Although Nancy had built a solid business, Liv would do it differently. Nancy's shop screamed tradition. Liv understood the value of tried and true classics, but she was constantly thinking up new and creative ideas. Her shop would be modern and whimsical, and she would create something for her customers built out of their wildest dreams.

“You are so lucky to have her,” Austin said. “I wish I had a Nancy.”

“You're right, Ozzie,” Liv said, Austin's nickname rolling so easily off her tongue. It had been given to him in University, and had stuck for the last ten years. “I never would've gotten here without her.” Guilt swallowed her thoughts. She'd been Nancy's right hand, her go-to worker. With Liv's talent, Nancy was able to book two to three events a weekend. After everything Nancy had done for her—

“Stop right there. I know what's going on in that brain of yours.” Austin sidled closer. “It's time for you to fly on your own. Nancy is one hundred percent behind your decision to open your own business. She wouldn't be in that kitchen otherwise.”

Liv nodded. Working for Nancy the last six years gave her all the experience she needed to go out on her own. She owed the woman the world. Opening and successfully running her own bakery would be her final thank you. After all, Liv's success was a direct reflection of Nancy's talent.

Liv glanced at the newspaper sitting on the counter. This was a day of celebration, but then she remembered that list in Nancy's notebook. “You think I can do this, right, Ozzie? That was a pretty big list.”

His face softened. “I know you can do it. And so does Patti.” Patricia McLean was the third member of their posse. “It's only a matter of time before you hit it big.” She could always count on Austin to tell her the truth. Sugar-coating words just wasn't a part of his personality. Still, he was her biggest cheerleader. He'd probably wear the uniform if she asked.

Liv slid her hand across the laminate counter, sweeping away the gray dust that was like a second skin. Excitement rumbled in her belly. During her childhood, sweets were used to mark every occasion in her household. Good grades. Boy trouble. Birthdays and holidays. Her mom always tried to make everything special. And to her, nothing was special without something sweet. Unfortunately, the baking gene must have skipped a generation, because her mom was the queen of boxed Betty Crocker cakes.

Once Liv was old enough to use the stove, she started to experiment. It never ceased to amaze her how so few ingredients could make something so delicious. Baking was like magic, and it didn't take long for her to realize she wanted to make magic every day.

Cupcakes eventually became her favorite because there were so many variations. They could be designed to fit any occasion. They were personalized, and if done masterfully, could be works of art. A freshly baked cupcake was her canvas, and a piping bag, her brush.

Austin surveyed the room, a concerned look on his face. “Did you speak with the landlord? Is this building even safe?”

“He said the building may be old, but he's kept it in working condition. Totally safe.” Besides, it wasn't Liv's responsibility to maintain the building. She only needed to worry about the inside of the store.

“If you say so.” Austin gave her a disbelieving frown.

Just picturing what this store would look like once she was finished invigorated her, sending all of the doubt away.

She paced the tiny room. In a few weeks, the walls would be covered in blush-pink paint, soft fabric sofas and stools would be available for seating, and her signature white boxes with pink ribbon would be ready for filling.

And Liv couldn't be more in the mood to get started. “Ready to get to work?”

“By ‘work' I hope you mean paperwork, because these hands were made to caress the skin of hard male bodies—not to be submerged in skin-damaging cleaners.”

Liv giggled. “Don't be such a priss.” She jumped up on the counter, not afraid to get a little dirty.

“I'm really proud of you.” Austin grinned. “This is your time. I will kick your butt when you get anxious and pick your butt up when you get discouraged.”

“I can always count on you to take care of my butt.”

“Somebody has to.”

Liv groaned. “Please tell me we are not getting on the boyfriend topic. Not today.” Boyfriends were not the most pressing item on her to-do list. They never had been.

“Then when? You're going to have to let someone get close to you sometime, Olivia.” She hated when Austin called her Olivia. He only did it to get under her skin.

“I got here without a man, and I can continue without one.”

Liv didn't need a man for a happily ever after. They didn't exist in real life, anyway. Her own family life was the perfect example. Her grandparents, even though they were still married, had never slept in the same bed. And her mother, she had sacrificed everything for a man who ended up leaving them and was never heard from again.

Her father—although he didn't deserve the title—was the first and last man to disappoint her. Growing up, witnessing the sadness in her mother's eyes, was enough to teach Liv no man was worth sacrificing her own happiness, her own plans.

“Besides, that's what I have you for.” Liv swiveled around until her legs fell on the opposite side of the counter, and slid to the floor. She grabbed the file folders she'd stored underneath the counter as Austin approached, resting his hands on the dust. She leaned forward and placed her forehead against his. “You're my token penis.”

“And what a great penis it is.”

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