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Chapter no 10

The Ex Vows

Despite my assurances, Eli hoversย outside the bakery as I step inside, phone in hand and eyes on me.

I shut the door, inhaling for a crumb of peace, and am immediately hit with the hypnotic scent of sugar. Like that, all my irritated thoughts disappear.

This place is perfect.

Itโ€™s large, chic, and gleaming. The centerpiece is a display case stacked with immaculately decorated cakes and artisanal sweets, and the walls are a spotless white, the floors a pale marble so polished I can practically see my own reflection. The door behind the counter is painted the green of new growth, matching the crawling rose bush that takes up half the white stucco wall just outside.

โ€œWelcome in!โ€

The Indian woman who greets me looks like a baker from the movies, with dark twinkling eyes and a bright smile glowing against golden brown skin, her black hair pulled into a perky ponytail.

This is the woman who spooked Adam? She looks like she should have cupcake emojis perpetually swirling over her head. She looks like my next best friend.

โ€œHey there,โ€ I reply with equal enthusiasm. โ€œIโ€™m here forโ€”โ€

The green door swings open and a storm cloud of a human hustles out.

Her lightning-strike eyes zero in on me.

โ€œYouโ€™re late,โ€ she barks, wiping her hands on the black apron tied around her waist. Sheโ€™s a tiny white woman, five feet if sheโ€™s lying, with curly gray hair. She could be anywhere from fifty to seventy-five, based on her lemon-sucking expression.

I split a look between my new friend and this other woman who could take me in a street fight. โ€œIโ€”no?โ€

โ€œYouโ€™re my 12:30, right?โ€

I smile in relief. โ€œYes.โ€

โ€œThen youโ€™re late.โ€ She points to the clock on the wall. โ€œItโ€™s 12:32.โ€ โ€œOh, but she got here at 12:30,โ€ the other woman says. I throw her a

grateful look.

โ€œIf youโ€™re early, youโ€™re on time, and if youโ€™re on time, youโ€™re late,โ€ the baker states, eyeing me from head to toe. She looks wholly unimpressed and I get it: Iโ€™m wearing a cropped black linen tank top and matching shorts, but clearly I shouldโ€™ve shown up wrapped in tinfoil, because Iโ€™m getting grilled.

I scramble for something that will appease her. โ€œI willโ€ฆdefinitely write that down for the future. Uh, I appreciate your wisdom.โ€

โ€œThis is Margot,โ€ the younger woman says. โ€œAnd Iโ€™m Sarika. We didnโ€™t get your name.โ€

I paste on my HR smile. โ€œIโ€™m Georgia. I really appreciate you taking us on last minโ€”โ€

โ€œWhoโ€™sย us?โ€ Margot interrupts, pointing out the window. โ€œAre you with him? Because heโ€™s taking off.โ€

I turn to see Eli pacing down the sidewalk, phone pressed to his ear, mouth moving quickly. โ€œOh. Heโ€™s with me, but heโ€™s not coming to the appointment. Heโ€™s got a thing.โ€

Her eyes narrow. โ€œA thing?โ€

โ€œA thing?โ€ Sarika echoes, disappointed.

I wave a hand in the air. โ€œA thing. Itโ€™s fine, I can do it on my own.โ€

Margot huffs out, โ€œThe point of a wedding is to do it together. No offense, but your fiancรฉ doesnโ€™t understand the concept.โ€

Itโ€™s a truth universally acknowledged that people who use the phraseย no offense, butย are the most offensive people on the planet. More than that, Iโ€™m sure Margotย doesย mean offense.

And then I realize what sheโ€™s called him. โ€œOh, god no, heโ€™s notโ€”โ€

โ€œNo need to defend him,โ€ she mutters. โ€œIโ€™m not going to believe you anyway.โ€

โ€œWell,ย Iย saw the way he was looking at you when you came in.โ€ Sarika shoots me an encouraging smile. โ€œIt was like you were the only person on the planet.โ€

My heart skips a beat, imagining that. Remembering the way he looked at me in the car.

When he was Ambien Eli, I remind myself. โ€œThereโ€™s a bit of a mix-up hereโ€”โ€

โ€œHe abandoned her for a โ€˜thing.โ€™ He was all over the place on the phone, too,โ€ Margot says, shaking her head. โ€œI donโ€™t understand you kids these days. Youโ€™ll settle for crumbs.โ€

Oh god, I havenโ€™t had a situation run away from me like this since spring break my freshman year of college.

Margot clearly misunderstood Adam when he called to set up the appointment, thinking Eli and I were the couple sheโ€™d be seeing. She loathes Eli for being an absentee fiancรฉ and me for accepting it, which actually couldnโ€™t be further from the truth. Iย didnโ€™t.

Adrenaline hits me like a Mack truck. โ€œHeโ€™s not my fiancรฉ. Weโ€™re not in love. Weโ€™re just the best woman and best man and our best friendsโ€™ wedding venue burned down and weโ€™re replanning the whole thing and the bride desperately wants one of your cakes and Iโ€™m very sorry for being on time and also somehow late, but this is extremely important to her, which means itโ€™s extremely important to me, so if we could just get started, that would be fantastic.โ€

Iโ€™m embarrassingly out of breath by the time I finish. Sarika has taken to dusting the immaculate countertop, eyes pinned to Margot.

If my speech moves Margot, she doesnโ€™t show it. I bet she kills it in poker. โ€œI appreciate your friendsโ€™ unfortunate issue. God knows every local has a soft spot for people impacted by fire. Itโ€™s the reason I took this appointment. But my time is precious and Iโ€™m very discerning.โ€ Her gaze flicks down, then back up again. โ€œSo far, Iโ€™m not convinced.โ€

Panic could easily overtake me right now, but Iโ€™ll make this work, because I always make things work. And Iโ€™ll do it alone, because I always do it alone.

โ€œCan I have the opportunity to convince you?โ€ I ask. โ€œMy friends deserve the best cake they can get, especially after what theyโ€™ve gone through. As far as Iโ€™m concerned, thatโ€™s yours.โ€

She tilts her head, and maybe Iโ€™m hallucinating, but I swear I see the faintest glimmer of satisfaction.

โ€œAll right,โ€ she sighs. โ€œCome into the back. Letโ€™s get started.โ€ I beam at her. โ€œPerfect.โ€

And then I text Eli:ย Do NOT come in here. Iโ€™ll meet you at the car.

 

 

I settle into my chairย in the tasting area, eyeing the spread in front of me. A tall, chic bottle of Italian spring water sits with two glasses, and Sarikaโ€™s just set a tray of dainty cake slices in front of me.

My heart sings as I snap a few pictures and shoot them off to the group thread.ย About to pick out your cake!

โ€œOkay,โ€ Sarika says cheerfully, sliding into the seat next to Margot, whoโ€™s across from me wearing an inscrutable expression. โ€œThere are six options, and each slice has a card in front of it with the flavor descriptions.โ€

I lean forward, taking in the beautiful handwritten placards with delicious-sounding combinations. โ€œThey look amazing.โ€

โ€œDo you know your friendsโ€™ preferences?โ€ Margot asks. โ€œSarika emailed them a list of our options yesterday, but we didnโ€™t hear back. These are our most popular flavors.โ€

My heart drops at how deeply unimpressed she looks, and how unprepared I am to change her mind. I have zero idea what Grace and Adam want.

โ€œThat is,โ€ I say as I pick my phone up from my lap and start to sightlessly text a lowkey SOS beneath the table, โ€œsuch a smart, great question.โ€

โ€œStart with the vanilla buttercream,โ€ Margot demands, pointing at the plate. โ€œEveryone likes vanilla.โ€

Does pregnant Grace like vanilla? I have no idea and donโ€™t want to be the one to send her stomach into turmoil. The fetus sheโ€™s growing seems extraordinarily picky.

But I also donโ€™t want to say no to Margot, even though the exception to her declaration is sitting right in front of her, distress-sweating through her top.

With a fortifying breath, I pick up my fork and cut off a chunk, then shove it into my mouth. The familiar nausea that hits me whenever I taste anything intensely vanilla blooms, and my tongue goes Sahara-dry.

I block my mouth with my hand, croaking out, โ€œItโ€™s delicious. A great option.โ€

Maybe Iโ€™m a good actress when it comes to anything Eli related, but Iโ€™m clearly a terrible one when it comes to my vanilla aversion. Margotโ€™s expression turns to stone.

โ€œAre youย sick?โ€ Oh my god. โ€œNโ€”โ€

โ€œSorry Iโ€™m late,โ€ comes a deep voice from the doorway.

The silence is immediate and absolute as Sarika and Margotโ€™s attention flies over my shoulder. Margotโ€™s eyes narrow in irritation. Sarikaโ€™s widen in awe.

I whirl in my seat, my gaze colliding with Eliโ€™s. And yeah, I get it. Heโ€™s fairly awe-inspiring standing in the doorway, his minky hair cresting into anxious-finger waves, his eyes dark like the richest chocolate ganache. Heโ€™s leaning an obscenely broad shoulder against the doorframe, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone.

Heโ€™s beautiful. And Iโ€™m going to strangle him.

โ€œWhat are you doing here?โ€ I blurt, cake hitting my stomach like a rock. โ€œWeโ€™re in the middle of our appointment.โ€ Margot sighs. โ€œIf you can call

it that.โ€

โ€œI apologize for interrupting.โ€ Eli directs that at Margot before turning his attention to me. โ€œMy call ended early. Thankfully.โ€

My smile is so plastic it cracks. โ€œLove that, but I told you I had it.โ€

โ€œYou definitely had something,โ€ he mutters, tilting his phone screen my way as he slides into the seat next to mine. I nearly swallow my tongue at the text thereโ€”mine, from a few minutes ago.

WHAT CAKE FLAV DO U WAN??1 I NEED TO KOW RN LLOK AT THE LIST

All right. Not as lowkey as I thought.

His voice drops to a reassuring caress. โ€œThought you could use some backup.โ€

My emotions tangle at Mach speed: irritation that he reacted to that text instead of the one telling him not to come in; confusion that heโ€™s here at all; and most distressing, relief that Iโ€™m not doing this alone. That he showed up. Itโ€™s a tiny dust mote of an emotion.

I mentally blow it away. It matters leastโ€”itโ€™s the first one I need to focus on, because he didnโ€™t listen.

She is a beast, I transmit silently.ย You just undid all of the goodwill I built.

What goodwill?ย He flits a look at Margot, whoโ€™s watching us with her arms crossed.ย She looks like sheโ€™s about to eat you.

Then his eyes slide to the tray of cake, straight to the slice thatโ€™s been touched. He frowns. โ€œDid you eat the vanโ€”โ€

My hand slams down on his thigh. On instinct, I slide up to squeeze the thick, hard arch of muscle. My animal brain remembers exactly what kind of touch robs him of speech and I need him to shut. Up.

But my animal brain forgotย whyย it robs him of speech, and so my heart leaps into my throat when his pupils blow wide with shock and heat, when his palm covers the back of my hand, fingers wrapping around mine. He holds us there for an unbearable smattering of seconds, his jaw flexing. And then he moves my hand down to his knee; itโ€™s a slow scrape until I hit the warm skin just below his gray shorts.

Goose bumps explode over every square inch of my body.

โ€œThe vanilla is very good,โ€ I say hoarsely, adding a silent,ย she canโ€™t know vanilla makes me sick, we areย ruiningย this.ย โ€œYou should try it, too.โ€

โ€œRight.โ€ Itโ€™s a wisp of a word before Eli seems to gather himself, turning back to Margot and Sarika. I yank my hand back, curling it into a fist in my lap. โ€œGrace, the bride, loves tropical flavors like passion fruit. Do you have anything like that?โ€

Margot stares at him, her lip curling up. โ€œIโ€”โ€

โ€œWait, how do you know that?โ€ I interrupt. Did they talk about it after I left last night?

He glances at me. โ€œItโ€™s on our lists.โ€

โ€œItโ€™s not on my list. Is it on the full list you have?โ€ โ€œI put it on your list, too.โ€

โ€œYou did not.โ€

โ€œExcuse me,โ€ Margot huffs out, stepping forward.

โ€œGeorgia,โ€ Eli says, nodding his chin to my phone. โ€œCheck your list. Itโ€™s there.โ€

โ€œThis is why I need the full list,โ€ I tell him as I pull up his text, scrolling down impatiently. โ€œSee, itโ€™s not onโ€”โ€

Cakeย ๏ฌ‚avors: passion fruit, orange, pineapple, chocolate with raspberry or other tart, vanilla

Well. Okay, so sheย doesย like vanilla.

โ€œI told you weโ€™d do fifty-fifty,โ€ Eli says quietly. โ€œEverything you need to know is there. But if you want it all, Iโ€™ll give it to you.โ€

โ€œExcuse me.โ€

I rip myself away from the clutch of Eliโ€™s attention to find Margot standing at her full height. She looks seven feet tall.

She addresses Eli first. โ€œYoung man, this is not a Burger King. You canโ€™t just order what you want and expect me to whip it up. My assistant, Sarika, sent your friends a list so they could give us notice of their preferences, which they didnโ€™t do. Between that, the latenessโ€โ€”at this, her gaze lands on meโ€”โ€œand whatever loversโ€™ spat this is, youโ€™ve wasted my time.โ€

Eli starts to speak, but I rush out, โ€œItโ€™s not a loโ€” Margot, Iโ€™m very sorry for this mix-up, butโ€”โ€

She holds up her hand, silencing me. Beside me, Eli stiffens. When I spare him a look, heโ€™s watching Margot with a stony expression that rivals her own.

She smooths down her apron, then drops her chin to level me with a look. โ€œSorry or not, this isnโ€™t going to work. Youโ€™ll have to find someone else to bake your friendsโ€™ wedding cake. Itโ€™s not going to be me.โ€

An apparition of the cake of Adam and Graceโ€™s dreams grows wings and flies away. Somewhere, that old Sarah McLachlan song starts to play. And the check mark Iโ€™d already mentally placed alongside our very first item on the Fix Adam and Graceโ€™s Wedding list?

Erased.

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