It was just minutes to go before Swan's Bakery opened for the day when the call came in. Emma was focused on putting the finishing touches on the last tier of the morning's special display cupcakes, dead set on keeping her hands steady so the colorful frosting stacked itself in an even swirl. All was peaceful except for the phone ringing behind her.
She looked over her shoulder, blowing stray waves of her hair out of her face and away from the cupcakes as she tried reading the caller ID on the little digital screen.
"I'm covered in food coloring and frosting. Can you get that?"
No response came, and the little digital phone kept ringing on its stand. Emma couldn't say she wasn't very surprised about it. Business had been booming since the grade schools got back in session. While her bank account certainly wasn't complaining, her feet and patience definitely were.
Emma sighed in relief as the call went to voicemail, listening to her own pre-recorded voice as it greeted the customer and thanked them for calling. She always thought she sounded ridiculous and falsely cheerful on the machine, but Elsa had made her keep it. (You sound friendly, her best friend and business partner had told her. Keep it, it's much better than the automatic one that comes with the phone.)
"Hello?" Came a distressed male voice, muffled a little by what sounded like running water and dishes clinking in the sink. "I'm calling to speak with Emma Swan about the order that was delivered to me yesterday, the one with the surprise engagement ring cupcake?"
Emma nodded to herself, remembering how much fun it had been to try and find a way to bake an engagement ring into the middle of a cupcake without getting cake mix stuck between the stones. It was an expensive ring, too, but she wasn't one to judge her customers. Some people wanted all kinds of crazy designs made on their baked goods — so long as it fit their family-friendly standards, who was she to judge?
She laid her piping bag down on the countertop behind her for a second, brushing her hair out of her eyes with her wrist. Emma never took a call without writing it down, never trusting her mind enough to remember important details while she was on the clock.
"I didn't think to check the actual delivery until this morning — we shoved them in the fridge, just like you said — and it's not there."
Emma paused her doodling in the margins of her appointment book for a second. She frowned to herself, knowing she'd packaged and delivered the order herself. It had to be some kind of mistake. The man kept going on about the design of the cupcakes he'd received, talking about anchors and life-preservers and little sailor hats, and all of a sudden it hit her —
"The boxes all looked the same," he continued on, "and I know I should have checked sooner…it's the wrong order, Miss Swan. The ring's not there."
The metallic lid of the apron bin squeaked as it swung back and forth, half of Emma's discarded apron hanging limp out it's mouth. Emma was trying to rescue what was left of her ponytail as she pushed the kitchen door open with her hip, trying to figure out how to answer Elsa's worried look in twenty words or less.
"I got an order mixed up," she muttered before her friend could ask, flipping hastily through their receipts in search of answers. She remembered delivering both of those orders on the same day, within a mile of each other no less, and if she was lucky she'd have her hands on the phone number and address of the other customer in a heartbeat.
Emma hissed a triumphant yes as she found the order, turning to look at Elsa with a bit of relief on her face. "You can handle the place for the first hour, right? I don't even think it'll take me that long, I just —"
"No, no, it's fine. Go ahead," Elsa said, shooing Emma off toward the door. She reached under the countertop for the keys to the delivery van and tossed them to Emma with a faint smile, knowing this was hardly their first or their last delivery mix-up. A surprise engagement sure made things a little more urgent, but it probably wasn't anything a discounted charge couldn't remedy.
"Can you call Mr. Nolan back and let him know I'm on my way to fix it?" Emma asked her, catching the keys with her free hand and scribbling down the information she needed on scrap paper with the other. "I swear I'll be back in and ready to help before the post-lunch rush."
Elsa nodded resolutely as Emma made her way toward the door, shoving her little corner of paper in her pocket. "Take your time."
Emma stared at her phone for a second as her van idled on the side of the road, making sure she had the right number before placing the call. She sincerely hoped the man who'd placed the original order had used a cell phone instead of a home or office number, because she really, really needed to exchange the cupcakes sitting in the refrigerated part of the van with the ones she'd accidentally delivered to him. Two screwed-up orders meant two deadlines to meet, and she'd already wasted a good ten minutes securing the nautical cupcake order from David's fridge.
Poor David Nolan, bless his soul, he hadn't even been upset with her when she'd showed up on his doorstep, keeping her van out on the street in case his soon-to-be fiancee was at home. He kept blaming himself (Really, I should have looked inside, just to be sure) when she was doing the same thing for not double-checking at the time of delivery. Technically, she had all day to make the switch, since his party wasn't until later in the evening, but Emma knew she couldn't wait that long.
Now she sat at the end of David Nolan's street, settling her phone in the cupholder of the van's console as she started the engine. It rang three times before she heard the connection click through, and her sigh of relief almost drowned out the sound of the man's voice.
"Hello?" An accented voice asked on the other end.
"Mr. Jones? This is Emma Swan from Swan's Bakery calling about your order."
"They were already delivered, and well before they were expected," the man affirmed, sounding even more confused at the point. "Is this some kind of customer service perk?"
"Not exactly. There was a bit of a mix-up with our deliveries, and the cupcakes you ordered are actually in the back of our delivery van right now on their way to you. You've got someone else's order, and I kind of need it as soon as humanly possible."
"It's that urgent?" He asked her, making Emma hope against hope that the regretful edge in his voice was just part of her imagination.
"There's an engagement ring inside one of the cupcakes."
"That is urgent."
"Yeah." Emma drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, willing the traffic light in front of her to turn green. "I'm actually on my way to the address I delivered the cupcakes to, if you're home."
"Regretfully, I'm not —" Her knuckles tightened around the wheel, "But my little brother should be. I'm sure he'll be able to help."
Emma stared at the time on the console before answering him, biting down on her lip as she realized she was being incredibly rude. She had yet to even apologize for screwing up his order, and she'd practically blamed him for the entire thing. She didn't like the sound of should be home as opposed to the definitely is home and will give you your customer's engagement ring back she was hoping for, but it was a start.
"I'm incredibly sorry for the misunderstanding, Mr. Jones," she finally replied, thanking her lucky stars this set of customers was more forgiving than the first pair she'd mixed up orders on. "If it's all right with you, I'll leave the correct delivery with your brother and take a twenty percent discount off your order as soon as I get back to the bakery."
"It's no trouble," the man answered evenly, just as her light turned green. "So long as I get to spend my birthday eating some of your delicious cupcakes, Miss Swan, I'll be perfectly fine."
Emma hung up the phone after saying goodbye, sincerely hoping this whole thing was going to be as easy as he made it seem.
One insulated bag full of cupcakes and two flights of stairs later, Emma found herself waiting outside of the Jones residence, carefully balancing the cupcake order atop her palms. It was so large and awkwardly shaped, she could barely see around the thing when the door finally swung open.
"Hello?" The younger Jones asked in a voice that was a near-perfect match for his brother's. Emma awkwardly pulled her arms to the side to greet him, nearly dropping the delivery again when she saw the man in person.
The last time she'd been here she'd met Liam Jones, a dark-haired Naval captain who had finally secured some time away from sea. He'd told her his friends were throwing him a party to celebrate both his return and his upcoming birthday, hence the theme of their desired desserts. He'd mentioned it was just he and his brother living in the city when she'd introduced herself (technically just him for half the year, at least) and at the time, she'd simply nodded and thanked him for doing business.
Point being, she'd never stopped to consider just how close the family resemblance was. The younger Jones wasn't built quite as stocky as Liam, and his eyes were much bluer and brighter. His hair was messier and his clothes — pajamas, if the paint-stained shirt and flannel pants were any indication — were unexpected, but then again, so was she.
"Um, hi," she replied, adjusting her grip on the boxes and pulling herself back into the present. "I'm from Swan's Bakery, and I have your cupcakes."
"The cupcakes for Liam?" He wondered, dark eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. "I thought you'd delivered those already."
"I did," she explained again, "Except those aren't his. These are," she said, indicating the packaging in her arms. "I called Liam a few minutes ago and he told me you'd be able to help me get the other ones back."
"Of course." He seemed like he was starting to wake up properly now, a fact that would have relieved Emma if it weren't for the way his eyes were starting to brighten and connect with hers.
A slow grin bloomed over his three-day scruff as he opened his front door a bit wider, welcoming her into the apartment so she could set her delivery down. Emma ignored the urge to check her phone for the time and followed him in, gingerly setting the insulated cooler bag down on his countertop and unzipping it at both ends. They still looked and smelled fine, and the choice to bring them up in a cooler bag was probably overkill, but it wasn't like he knew the difference.
"Four dozen cupcakes, french vanilla and buttercream frosting, nautical fondant decorations?" She asked, just to be sure she wasn't going crazy. He nodded in response, a little bit of the confusion on his face melting away.
"Wonder what I've got in my fridge, then," He hummed thoughtfully, padding across his kitchen tile and setting a few boxes right next to hers.
"You accidentally ended up with red velvet cupcakes with white chocolate frosting," she told him with relief, glad to see that even the outside of the boxes were in mint condition. One look around the clean, orderly apartment told her it wasn't much of a surprise, but she still rejoiced in the feeling of anxiety ebbing out of her system. David Nolan's cupcakes were fine, the ring was found and nobody was going to be suing anyone for damages.
"You're looking at those with a quite a bit of adoration, love,' he pointed out, shaking her out of her reverie as he leaned back against the counter. "What makes those so special?"
Emma looked up from her inspection to meet his eyes, startled again by how bright they were. Maybe it was just the way the morning sunlight was pouring in through his windows into the room around them. Maybe it was because his hair was so dark. Maybe she was thinking about it too much instead of answering him.
"One of these has an engagement ring inside. Someone's getting proposed to via cupcake today, and I needed to find you to make that happen. Liam wasn't even sure you'd be here, so I'm just kind of glad something went right today."
"Lucky me."
Emma's eyes narrowed a little at his tone, innocent enough though it was. One look at those bright blue eyes of his and the playfulness in them told her that was her cue to leave, and at the risk of causing herself even more trouble she snorted in response.
"You're really the guy who hits on delivery workers when they come to your door?"
"Only ones with long blonde hair and icing smeared on their cheeks."
Emma stopped stacking boxes of red velvet cupcakes in her insulated bag when his words registered, immediately flushing with mortification. She lifted a hand to her cheek and wiped experimentally.
"Other side," he told her helpfully, eyes still glimmering with amusement as he raised his finger to tap his own cheek. "You wear it well."
Emma managed to get the offending smudge of frosting that time, sure her cheeks were blushing far more pink than the icing she hastily licked off her finger. (At least you've crossed off embarrassing yourself in front of a total stranger for the day, she thought.)
"Look," she told him, trying desperately to zip up the rest of the boxes so she could leave and pretend none of this morning had ever happened, "I told Liam I could give you both a twenty percent discount on the order, since all of this happened and I was technically late on your order. Soon as I get back in I'll get it entered in the books, and we can —"
"You'll enter it in the books?" He interrupted. "Are you the Swan of Swan's Bakery, then?"
"I am," she said, momentarily remembering that not everyone knew their little business was held together by Elsa and herself. "And you're the Jones that isn't Liam?"
"Killian, if we're being technical," he replied, extending his hand out to her. Despite the earlier line, she took it, finding his hand to be just as warm as his smile. "Liam ordered me one of your little cakes for my birthday two months ago. It was lovely."
She smiled genuinely at him then, knowing that had to have been one of the first orders they ever took. Part of her wondered why Liam Jones had picked her little store out of many in town while he was presumably out at sea, but the genuine praise from his mouth had more of her attention. She and Elsa had spent more nights perfecting recipes than they had getting sleep the entire month before they'd opened, and it was nice hearing that the work had paid off.
"Thank you," she said, willing herself to release his hand. She watched it fall and flex once at his side as she hefted the loaded cooler bag into her arms, suddenly realizing she'd have to make it up David Nolan's long driveway again before her errand was done.
"Sure you don't want any help with that?" He asked, following her back to the door and opening it helpfully without being asked.
"I'm late enough as it is," she told him, her legs slowing their pace without her permission. "Sorry again for the mix-up."
"Don't be," he told her with a bit of a grin, sliding off to the side so she could pass him unencumbered. "I'm certainly not."
Emma risked taking her eyes off her cupcake bag for a moment to roll them at him, only letting the faintest smile grace her lips as she looked back at the man holding the door for her. "Enjoy the cupcakes, Mr. Jones."
Re-delivering the cupcakes to Mr. Nolan took almost no time at all, and Emma was more than thrilled to see she'd managed to get back within five minutes of her intended time. She had hours and hours of simple baking and decorating to settle back into, and she practically bounced back to their small kitchen to grab a clean apron and get started on her work.
"You got a message a little while ago," Elsa told her as she passed by, dumping a small sample tray into the sink to be cleaned.
"That's just the call from before about the engagement cupcake," Emma answered, "don't worry about it."
"No," Elsa shook her head. "This one was an order for delivery to Shipwright Drive."
"I was just there," Emma said, realization dawning fast. "Did he have an accent?"
"He did," Elsa replied, drawing her friend's attention with a knowing smile. "He also specifically requested that we send the lovely Swan his way, if it was at all possible."
"He did not."
Elsa held up the appointment book as proof, pointing to an order for a half-dozen mixed cupcakes for delivery that afternoon, the name K. Jones penned clearly for her to see.
"Sounds like we should send you out on deliveries more often. You're good for business."
Emma snatched the book and the cordless phone from her without another word, just barely managing to hide the grin on her face as she wandered into the accounting office to make a call of her own.
"Hello?" His voice felt familiar by now.
"I left your apartment not fifteen minutes ago, Jones," she said by way of greeting him, skipping right past her own hello. "Don't you think this is moving a little too fast?"
Emma could hear his smile on the other end of the phone as he replied. "Perhaps, but you're the one who gave me an engagement ring before."
"That was an accident, and I gave it to your brother, not you," she shot back, wondering if hearing other people's smiles went both ways.
"Like I said before, lass, lucky me."
Elsa, being the good friend and business partner that she was, didn't say a word when Emma emerged from the office twenty minutes later, smiling to herself with a new type of appointment jotted down in their little book.