Joey
“It looks like an ass.”
“Why would anyone make an ass cake? Maybe it’s supposed to be a peach.”
I swallow my laugh as I stop next to the conversing couple—tourists whom I saw at my family’s chocolatier shop yesterday. They’re out and about quite early today, checking out a particular display at the window of The Only Bakery. As the name suggests, this store is the only bakery in our small riverside town in New South Wales, Australia.
“Excuse me,” I say with a smile. “I think that will give you a clue as to what that’s meant to be.” I point to the small card that must have been knocked out of position.
They step closer to the window and the man guffaws. “My wife didn’t believe me when I said it was an ass.”
The woman frowns. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s called Mooner’s Cake. Mooner,” her husband enunciates.
Understanding dawns on his wife’s face and she lets out a giggle.
The man cranes his neck to spy on the other baked goods on display inside. “So, do they specialise in rude-looking cakes?”
“No. Locals affectionately call ourselves Mooners.”
The woman’s eyes grow wide. “Why? Because you like to drop your pants and show your buttocks to people?”
I chuckle. “It’s because our town’s called Moonstruck Cove.”
“I see,” she says with an embarrassed laugh. “Hey, you’re the lady from Moonstruck Chocolatier, right? Joey!”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I remember because I love your hair with those gorgeous purple highlights.”
“Oh, thank you.” Involuntarily, I comb a section of my usually plain brunette hair with my fingers. I just had them cut to shoulder length and, on a whim, got those highlights.
The man moves closer to me, sending me an eager grin. “When will you be selling Theo Cresswall’s chocolates? Within a week, I hope.”
I cover up my grimace with a smile. We haven’t even publicly talked about our new product yet, tentatively called Theo’s First, and everyone seems to know about it already. We’re far from making an announcement, though, so I have to try to keep the lid on this for as long as I can.
“I don’t know who started that rumour,” I say with a little laugh, shaking my head at the man.
“It’s not true?”
Aww, he looks so crestfallen.
The woman gives me a conspiratorial smile. “Chelsea Banton already let the cat out of the bag. We know it’s happening.” She pulls her phone out and taps on it.
“That woman says she’s Theo’s number one fan,” the man huffs. “Well, she hasn’t met me yet.”
His wife places her phone on my hand. “Here. Read it.”
I suppress a sigh. I already know about this post from a social media influencer with over five million followers. She’s been in town for a few days now, and Mooners aren’t exactly known for keeping secrets.
Anyway, I didn’t want to look like I was trying to hide things from this couple—even though I was—so I read Chelsea’s post again.
EXCITING BREAKING NEWS FROM MWAH!!!
As you know, Theo Cresswall of my absolute favourite rock band, the Glowing Devils, is calling Moonstruck Cove home again so he can live happily ever after with the gorgeous dance champion Gia Flores. (If you haven’t heard, then you’re living under a rock!)
So, what’s Theo been doing in a small town—apart from Gia? (Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Love you, Theo and Gia!)
Well, in the past three days, I’ve personally witnessed Theo disappearing inside a local chocolate-making business called Moonstruck Chocolatier and spending hours in there.
Hey, I’m not a stalker, just a big fan. Besides, he was always in disguise. And, being respectful of his privacy, I’m not going to reveal what he looks like incognito.
Now, some of you are bound to ask how I knew that was Theo if he was wearing a disguise.
Come on! This is me! I’m Theo’s number one fan, and I’ll recognise him anywhere!
Anyway, I did a little digging and discovered that Theo used to work for that shop before he left Moonstruck Cove all those years ago to find fame and fortune with his bandmates. And what do some locals say?
Drum roll, please…
He’s partnered with Moonstruck Chocolatier to produce chocolates from his own recipe! They’re going to call it Theo’s First.
Yessss!!! Take my money!!! Did I tell you I’m a chocoholic?
No news yet on when it’s coming out, but when I know, you’ll know.
And, hopefully, I can have a taste of Theo—I mean, Theo’s chocolate—while I’m here.
“Chelsea can’t be wrong,” the woman declares.
I can’t help my rueful sigh as I hand her phone back. I’m not comfortable lying so there’s probably no point in trying to deny it at this stage. “I guess if Chelsea Banton says it’s true, then it’s true.”
The man literally trembles. “Can I preorder the chocolates? I’d like a box. A large one.”
His wife elbows him. “A box? You have to watch your sugar levels!”
“I’m afraid Theo’s First is still in its infancy in terms of commercial development,” I say apologetically. “You might want to follow us on social media so you don’t miss our announcement when it’s ready. But it won’t be for a few more months at the very least.”
The man grabs his wife by the shoulders. “Darling, I’m already apologising for my future actions. I’ll be stalking Moonstruck Chocolatier online from now on.”
His wife rolls her eyes good-naturedly before giving me a resigned smile. “He’ll be losing sleep till then. Anyway, thanks a lot. We better head to our breakfast reservation now. He promised to eat something healthy this morning.”
I chuckle. “Enjoy your day.”
I give them a wave goodbye before walking inside The Only Bakery. My timing is perfect because Emory, the head baker and my best friend, is just coming out of the kitchen with a tray of freshly baked ham and cheese croissants. Yum! “Morning, girlfriend,” I greet.
“Morning, girlfriend.” Emory places the tray in its place under the glass counter. “What do you feel like today?”
“One of those, please. And I can’t believe you finished Mooner’s Cake. Did you even sleep?”
She shakes her head while bagging a croissant for me. “I’ll probably sleep all afternoon after I finish here. But this morning is my last chance to get Chelsea to pay attention to our bakery. I heard she’s leaving town before lunch since she’s given up on securing an interview with our most reclusive visitor from New York—who happens to be your number one enemy.” She wags her brows up and down.
My heart starts racing.
“It’s been a month since Brax arrived with Ollie,” Emory continues, “and the reporters and paps that made the trek here are all gone. Chelsea’s probably the last person he’s trying to avoid before venturing out of the lodge.”
“Who cares?” I say haughtily. That’s a pretty juvenile response from me when the man has been at pains to keep his and his son’s privacy while they’re here. But when it comes to Braxton Quinn, I find myself easily stirred up. “He’s just the most aggravating man I’ve ever met,” I hiss.
Emory tries to hide her smirk but fails. “And the most attractive, right?”
My brain presents me with the picture of a dark-haired, green-eyed, strong-jawed man with chiselled abs that had done something to my insides when I first laid eyes on him two years ago. I had come early to his mother’s birthday party to deliver some goods, and there was Brax out in the Quinns’ private garden within the lodge’s premises, shirtless in the heat while setting up the outdoor seating. My body had instantly responded, and I’d developed the worst crush on him…until we had that argument last year.
I shrug to make light of things. “You have to admit he’s pretty good-looking. That’s just a fact. It doesn’t make him a person I’d like to get to know better.”
“And still you bring him up all the time,” Emory drawled.
“Because he’s aggravating!”
“All right, all right.” She snickers.
“What?” I demand.
“Nothing. I was just thinking it might be time to forgive him. He did apologise for what he said before he left last year.”
I scoff. “It was so obvious he didn’t mean his apology. I’ll forgive him if he says a heartfelt sorry. Might forgive him,” I correct myself.
“Well, I suppose he’s too busy bonding with Ollie, anyway. Imagine trying to develop a relationship with a four-year-old son you didn’t know existed until a few months ago. That’s huge.”
I feel myself softening—for Oliver, Brax’s child. “Yeah. His grandparents are smitten, telling anyone who’ll listen what a wonderful, happy boy he is. I’m going to the lodge today to make a delivery. Maybe I’ll bring something for him.”
“And for Brax?”
“No! Just for Ollie! Why are you so intent on me wiping the slate clean with that man?”
Emory leans forward against the counter. “Because he’s the first guy who made you wet just by looking at him. Wasn’t he the reason you decided to follow the advice in that article written by a sexologist? And wasn’t he your first choice for your fling experiment? I’m telling you, Joey, you should consider him again. The best thing? He’ll be gone in a month.”
My cheeks burn. “Shhh!” I glance around furtively. Thank God the bakery is empty.
“It's been two years since you said you wanted to do it. After all this time, you still haven’t found the right guy. You don’t want to have a fling with a Mooner, and let’s not talk about your reticence to seriously date again until you’ve solved your problem.”
My palm flies to my chest. “But not with Brax! Don’t forget that he accused me of meddling. How dare he? Besides, the sexologist said that it has to be with a man I trust and can be completely open with. Brax has proven he is not that man.” Despite my words, a flutter of excitement courses through me at the thought of being in bed with the arrogant guy. Traitorous body.
Emory smiles patiently. “He could be if you forgave him. Look, I would have been insulted too if he called me a meddler to my face even though, let’s face it, outsiders would see most of us in this town as that. But he was just worried about his parents’ financial situation. Not being from around here, he has no idea how we Mooners help each other out.”
I open my mouth to tell her the two-word adjective Brax spewed out during his rant—the main reason why I’m so mad at him—but I shut it. For Brax’s parents and sister’s sake—who we all embrace as true Mooners even though they moved here just under nine years ago—I’ll continue to keep it to myself.
So I change the subject. “Hey, if I bump into Chelsea, I’ll encourage her to check out your Mooner’s Cake before she leaves.”
“Thanks. I hope she gets to compare it to Oldington Bakery’s fake penis cake. Brave and creative.” She harrumphs at Chelsea’s description of the cake from the neighbouring town’s bakery, which was supposed to be a replica of Oldington’s town hall—a tall, thin building with two trees on either side of it. By the time Chelsea arrived to view it, the icing had melted and the cake had ended up looking like a flaccid penis with vomit-coloured testicles. Chelsea had raved about its shock value, and in the last month, the bakery’s orders had shot up.
I chuckle dryly. “I still can’t believe Oldington Bakery hasn’t set the record straight especially since they’re finding it impossible to reproduce their Not-A-Penis creation. Anyway, when Chelsea checks out your cake, she’ll be bowled over. It’s way more gutsy, headline-making, delicious, and marketable. You’re still planning to add it to your product list, right?”
Emory nods, grinning wickedly. “Mooner’s Cake: The sweetest way to say kiss my ass.”
“I’d totally buy it!”
“To give to Braxton Quinn?”
I laugh. “Not a bad idea at all.” I place cash on the counter and pick up the brown paper bag with my croissant. “I’d better run. We need to figure out how to meet the unbelievable demand for you-know-what.”
“A nice problem to have.”
I inhale deeply. “I know. But we hand-make our chocolates so it’s not as if we can mass manufacture. Anyway, we’ll figure it out. See you later.” I give her a wave as I make my way to the exit.
I eat my croissant as I take a leisurely walk along Main Street, calling out “good morning” to the shopkeepers preparing to open their stores.
When I reach Struck and Stuck, Moonstruck Cove’s local pub, I head towards the lilly pilly tree in the sideyard. Then I pull out a rag in my backpack and start giving the nine plaques attached to the wooden seating surrounding the tree a quick wipe.
I do this every week as one of the plaques is in honour of my family for running a successful small business.
Now, we’re not the only ones with a plaque such as this. Plenty of other businesses and individuals who have made valuable contributions to our community in many different forms have been presented with one, and they’re dotted all over the place. But even though plaques are plentiful in Moonstruck Cove, we’re proud of each and every single one of them. They’re a testament to the wonderful things about our beloved small town.
After my quick stop, I head over to our shop. I’m almost at Moonstruck Chocolatier when I spot our resident dance champion stepping out of the Gia Flores Dance Studio and walking towards me.
While I stop to wait for Gia outside our shop’s door, I put the last piece of croissant into my mouth and glance up at our ornately carved signage. Dad never fails to run a long-stick duster all around it every morning to keep it clean.
This place is thirty-three years old and my parents’ first baby. At twenty-eight, I’m their second, and my younger sister, Josie, twenty-five, is third.
Moonstruck Chocolatier is my baby, too, even though I only work here part-time because I’m also an art teacher and a painter. I’m responsible for marketing, designing all of our packages and merchandise, and taste-testing. My parents passed the trait of superb chocolate tasting on to me while they passed the trait of being a great chocolate maker on to Josie.
“Morning!” Gia says as she approaches.
“Morning,” I say in a lower voice. “Did you see Chelsea Banton’s post last night?”
“Yes, I showed Theo.”
“Well, he’s so popular that our website crashed.”
Her eyes widen. “Seriously?”
I nod. “It’s fixed now, but we panicked at first, not knowing what was happening until Josie saw Chelsea’s post.”
“Now I know why your dad asked us to be here early.”
I push open the glass door with the “Closed” sign still in place. Hanging bells chime gaily and, as usual, my heart sings at the multitude of delicious smells that hit me.
We both greet our salesperson, Liss, who’s arranging the discounted products table before she opens the store to the public.
Lissandra Quinn has a special aura that makes customers trust and buy more. She’s the best upseller we’ve ever had. Unfortunately, she only works for us on weekend mornings. On weekend afternoons, she’s at the Crystals and Essences shop to read tarot cards for clients. The rest of the time, she’s at Moonstruck Lodge, helping her parents run it.
Oh, and she’s also Brax’s youngest sibling, but I’m not holding that against her.
“Morning, Joey, Gia,” Liss says. “I don’t need my cards to tell me that we’re gonna be exceptionally busy today—and that we’ll leave a lot of customers disappointed because there are no Theo’s First for sale.”
“I know,” I lament.
The door leading to the back rooms opens and Josie sticks her head out. “Oh, there you are. Mum and Dad are ready for the meeting.”
Gia and I follow Josie to the big kitchen.
Theo’s already here, and he’s in full disguise because it’s full-moon week—when we get a large number of visitors descending into Moonstruck Cove to climb our famous Lover’s Hill. At any other time, Theo doesn’t bother going incognito.
He and my parents are standing around a bench, admiring a batch of chocolates. Theo’s First, I presume.
We all greet each other, and Theo’s face breaks into the sweetest smile as he reaches out for Gia and kisses her temple. Geez, it’s as if they hadn’t seen each other in a while. It was literally two hours since they parted—if that!
I’m so very happy that they finally ended up together, being both childhood friends of mine. And I’m so terribly annoyed at the envy needling my chest right now. If there’s ever been a woman with bad luck in love—or terrible taste in men—it’s me. That I still got excited at the thought of a fling with Braxton Quinn despite what I now think of him is proof of that.
“The reaction to Chelsea Banton’s post is all so exciting and great,” says my mother. “But how are we gonna meet demand? We are known for handmade, artisanal chocolates, and we’ve always planned to only make small batches of Theo’s First. We should have expected that would never be enough.”
“I’ve probably given you more problems with my recipe,” Theo says ruefully.
“That’s not what we’re trying to say,” my dad says hastily. “What we want to ask you is if you’d rather work with a bigger chocolatier who could meet demand. We might not be the right people to take Theo’s First to its full potential. We’re too small.”
Theo shakes his head. “This is not about money for me, Roger. You allowed me to indulge in my chocolate-making hobby here, and you helped me refine what turned out to be a great chocolate recipe. I thought that giving you the rights to it could be my form of thanks for everything, especially all the support you gave me as a rebellious teen.”
He looks at each of us. “I can’t thank all of you enough for that. You gave me a job, also lots of guidance, and that responsibility helped me steer the Glowing Devils to where we are right now.”
My mum gets a tissue and blows her nose loudly. “That’s so sweet of you, Theo,” she blubbers. “But we’re worried that you won’t get what you deserve out of this.”
“Do I look like I need more money or fame, Lola?” Theo asks jokingly. “Theo’s First is my gift to you, and it’s yours to use as you please. You can even sell it if that’s what you want. I honestly won’t mind. If anyone asks me about it, I’ll send them to you. I hope you won’t get too busy fielding questions,” he says with a laugh before looking at Gia. “Is that all right with you, too, babe?”
“Of course,” she answers in surprise. “It’s your recipe.”
“But we share everything now.”
“Awww,” we Barkers utter simultaneously.
Mum cups a hand against her ear. “Do we hear wedding bells?”
Gia blushes as she casts a hopeful glance at Theo.
“Well,” her boyfriend says, “at the moment, we’re too busy with getting our house built. Plus, we’ll be away for a few months for Glowing Devils business.”
“Right,” Gia said with a big, wide, forced smile. “Getting hitched is not on our list of priorities.”
I suppress my grin as Theo gives us a big wink behind Gia.
“If you don’t need us for anything else,” Theo says, “we better go. We have a few things to sort out with our home builders before we pack for our trip.”
“Thanks again, you guys,” I say. “No matter how you spin it, we’re still holding the good end of the stick.”
“Yes, we’re very grateful,” adds my dad. “Thank you many times over.”
Theo nods solemnly. “It’s my absolute pleasure.”
Mum gestures to the back door. “Go on before people start arriving.”
With a wave, the couple leaves.
“So what are we gonna do?” I ask, telling my family about my interaction with the tourists outside The Only Bakery.
Dad shakes his head in awe. “This is so shocking to me. I mean, I know how popular Theo is, but I never thought people would be clamouring for his chocolates like it’s their most wanted product ever.”
“For his fans, it’s their most wanted product ever, I suppose,” says Josie.
“Why don’t we take a couple of days to think?” I suggest. “Let’s each come up with options, then let’s discuss them afterwards. I don’t think we have time for a long meeting this morning.”
“We don’t,” Mum agrees. “Okay. Let’s go back to work.”
“Joey, could you deliver that to the lodge first?” Dad points to a big basket of fresh fruits on sticks covered by chocolates and arranged like a floral bouquet. “Their honeymooner guests are arriving earlier than expected.”
“Sure.” I pick up the beautiful arrangement and take it with me. We provide Moonstruck Lodge—the best luxury accommodation in town—with all their chocolate products.
I’m making my way out the front door when Liss calls me.
Ooh, she has this piercing stare and mysterious smile that she usually gets when she’s “in tune with her spirit guides.” We Mooners know that even though Liss’s psychic abilities are the come-and-go kind, when she gets into this state, she’s very accurate.
“When you see my brother,” she tells me in a quiet tone, “could you please tell him to come visit me here soon?”
I stare at her. “Um, okay. If I see him. I don’t think he’ll be hanging around at reception when I get there.”
“You’ll see him, and it won’t be at reception,” Liss says with certainty. Then she suddenly scrunches her nose, losing her piercing gaze. “I think you might see him.” She lets out an uncertain laugh.
So do I.
I’m hoping that Liss didn’t just have one of her rare premonitions because I most definitely don’t want to see Brax this morning.
Or any morning.
Or any day.
Or night.
Or ever.
Because I hate being attracted to someone I can’t stand.
***End of Chapter One***
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