“Okay,” I agreed reluctantly.
Ben gave me a naughty smirk. “I need to get home and deal with this,” he said, glancing down at the tightness in his jeans. “You have me all kinds of wound up. For a minute, I thought I was a gangly teen in your dorm room and not a board-certified physician.”
“Now I feel bad,” I said, and I did. Not only for leaving him with blue balls, but for thinking he would understand the personal war I was having.
“Don’t. Just be prepared for a good time later this week,” he said as he opened the door, the chilly air rushing in a welcome slap to the face, bringing me back to reality.
29
Ben
“Hey, Gigi,” I said as I walked into Oh, For Heaven’s Cakes on Tuesday morning.
With a touch of flour on her nose, Gigi looked up and smiled. “Ben, you’re the best boss I know. Your office staff must love you with all the cupcakes you take them. Not to mention, I’m pretty darn happy about it too.”
Clearing my throat, I bent over to stare into the pastry case, surveying what was in there. As I suspected, they were out of the autumn cupcake Murphy liked—no, loved. It was kind of amazing.
“Here’s the thing, I’m not here for my staff. It’s just . . . I remembered Murphy’s birthday is this Thursday,” I rambled, “and she hasn’t said a single word.”
It occurred to me the other night when I dropped her off. Although the dinner with my family had been a little tense and overwhelming, I thought we ended it on a positive note in the tasting room. Especially when we’d been able to sneak out without another encounter with my parents, and promises of a continuation of the good time.
But then something in Murphy changed. She seemed distracted, and it hit me on my way home.
Her birthday is coming up.
“I’ve always known it’s this week. I don’t know how I forgot the date until now, but it was in the back in my mind and I need to put together some sort of celebration fast.”
Gigi walked out from behind the counter, clapping her hands. “This sounds like a job for me. And should we call Hunnie?”
This was turning out exactly how I didn’t want it to go, so I thought quickly on my feet. “If Holden were surprising you, do you think he’d want all your friends involved?”
Gigi thought for a moment. “No, he likes my girl gang to be my girl gang, and my time with him to be with him.”
“Exactly. A man who does things like I would. This is me, doing this for Murphy. Anyway, I was thinking of taking her to dinner at the High Hill Inn in Woodstock. We could even make a night of it and stay there.”
“That sounds like a perfect idea,” Gigi said with delight, practically jumping in place. “What do you need from me then?”
“Calm down. This is where I need your help. I wanted to do some sort of special dessert, and Murphy seems to be wild for your autumn cupcakes.”
“She loves those. That girl of yours has a wicked sweet tooth. Wait.” Gigi disappeared in the back and reappeared with a magazine. “See, look at this.”
She showed me a picture of a cake decorated with leaves and some sort of glitter, whipping the magazine through the air and back again.
Frustrated, I sighed. “I don’t think you heard me, Gigi. Murphy likes the cupcakes you make. I don’t want a cake.”
Starting to sweat along my brow, I shoved my hair back with my hand. I had patients to see before I took a few days off, and I needed to finish this negotiation.
Coming closer, Gigi said, “Ben, Ben, Ben. That’s a cupcake cake. Inside that cake are a whole bunch of small cupcakes. I’ve been wanting to try one out, and why not make you and Murphy my guinea pigs?”
“Gigi, I’m looking to impress Murphy, you know? Make her happy?”
She waved a hand, dismissing my concerns. “It’ll be fine. I’ll make a double batch of cupcakes so we can have a backup. Now go, go, go. It will be ready on Thursday.” She shooed me out of the shop before I could even ask how much the cupcake cake was going to cost.
Jumping into my Jeep, I thought about calling Holden and asking him to come over for a beer and some dating advice, which was kind of funny. The guy gave new meaning to keeping to himself, but he was making this whole thing work with Gigi.
Gigi called out to me as I got to the door.
“Wait a minute,” she said, filling a box with random cupcakes. “For your staff. A little advance thank-you for letting me experiment with the cupcake cake. It’s going to be great.”
Handing me the box, she shooed me off again, and I didn’t object.
Murphy wasn’t working this morning at the Bean, so I passed on stopping in. We’d gone over our schedules when I dropped her off on Sunday. I’d only heard bits and pieces of what she had going on because I’d been so worried about what was bothering her.
And then out of nowhere it had hit me. Murphy’s birthday was always the date of the back-to-campus bonfire at Pressman. Every year, she would parade around with a crown on her head that her friends insisted she wear. They’d sing and hug and act like fools, and I always swung by her room later to wish her a happy birthday in private.
But this year, I didn’t have to do anything in private.
Heading the Jeep back toward Montpelier, I called the High Hill Inn. Once I had dinner reservations and a room secured, I decided to not tell Murphy until Thursday morning. It wouldn’t be hard to keep the secret from her since I was operating tomorrow, and she was working at the market this evening with Hunnie, another tidbit I knew from our domestic
