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.
Itโs 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.
โWelcome 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.
โHey there,โ I reply with equal enthusiasm. โIโm here forโโ
The green door swings open and a storm cloud of a human hustles out.
Her lightning-strike eyes zero in on me.
โYouโre late,โ she barks, wiping her hands on the black apron tied around her waist. Sheโs a tiny white woman, five feet if sheโs 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. โIโno?โ
โYouโre my 12:30, right?โ
I smile in relief. โYes.โ
โThen youโre late.โ She points to the clock on the wall. โItโs 12:32.โ โOh, but she got here at 12:30,โ the other woman says. I throw her a
grateful look.
โIf youโre early, youโre on time, and if youโre on time, youโre late,โ the baker states, eyeing me from head to toe. She looks wholly unimpressed and I get it: Iโm wearing a cropped black linen tank top and matching shorts, but clearly I shouldโve shown up wrapped in tinfoil, because Iโm getting grilled.
I scramble for something that will appease her. โI willโฆdefinitely write that down for the future. Uh, I appreciate your wisdom.โ
โThis is Margot,โ the younger woman says. โAnd Iโm Sarika. We didnโt get your name.โ
I paste on my HR smile. โIโm Georgia. I really appreciate you taking us on last minโโ
โWhoโsย us?โ Margot interrupts, pointing out the window. โAre you with him? Because heโs taking off.โ
I turn to see Eli pacing down the sidewalk, phone pressed to his ear, mouth moving quickly. โOh. Heโs with me, but heโs not coming to the appointment. Heโs got a thing.โ
Her eyes narrow. โA thing?โ
โA thing?โ Sarika echoes, disappointed.
I wave a hand in the air. โA thing. Itโs fine, I can do it on my own.โ
Margot huffs out, โThe point of a wedding is to do it together. No offense, but your fiancรฉ doesnโt understand the concept.โ
Itโs a truth universally acknowledged that people who use the phraseย no offense, butย are the most offensive people on the planet. More than that, Iโm sure Margotย doesย mean offense.
And then I realize what sheโs called him. โOh, god no, heโs notโโ
โNo need to defend him,โ she mutters. โIโm not going to believe you anyway.โ
โWell,ย Iย saw the way he was looking at you when you came in.โ Sarika shoots me an encouraging smile. โIt 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. โThereโs a bit of a mix-up hereโโ
โHe abandoned her for a โthing.โ He was all over the place on the phone, too,โ Margot says, shaking her head. โI donโt understand you kids these days. Youโll settle for crumbs.โ
Oh god, I havenโt 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 sheโd be seeing. She loathes Eli for being an absentee fiancรฉ and me for accepting it, which actually couldnโt be further from the truth. Iย didnโt.
Adrenaline hits me like a Mack truck. โHeโs not my fiancรฉ. Weโre not in love. Weโre just the best woman and best man and our best friendsโ wedding venue burned down and weโre replanning the whole thing and the bride desperately wants one of your cakes and Iโm very sorry for being on time and also somehow late, but this is extremely important to her, which means itโs extremely important to me, so if we could just get started, that would be fantastic.โ
Iโm 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 doesnโt show it. I bet she kills it in poker. โI appreciate your friendsโ unfortunate issue. God knows every local has a soft spot for people impacted by fire. Itโs the reason I took this appointment. But my time is precious and Iโm very discerning.โ Her gaze flicks down, then back up again. โSo far, Iโm not convinced.โ
Panic could easily overtake me right now, but Iโll make this work, because I always make things work. And Iโll do it alone, because I always do it alone.
โCan I have the opportunity to convince you?โ I ask. โMy friends deserve the best cake they can get, especially after what theyโve gone through. As far as Iโm concerned, thatโs yours.โ
She tilts her head, and maybe Iโm hallucinating, but I swear I see the faintest glimmer of satisfaction.
โAll right,โ she sighs. โCome into the back. Letโs get started.โ I beam at her. โPerfect.โ
And then I text Eli:ย Do NOT come in here. Iโll 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 Sarikaโs 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!
โOkay,โ Sarika says cheerfully, sliding into the seat next to Margot, whoโs across from me wearing an inscrutable expression. โThere 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. โThey look amazing.โ
โDo you know your friendsโ preferences?โ Margot asks. โSarika emailed them a list of our options yesterday, but we didnโt 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.
โThat is,โ I say as I pick my phone up from my lap and start to sightlessly text a lowkey SOS beneath the table, โsuch a smart, great question.โ
โStart with the vanilla buttercream,โ Margot demands, pointing at the plate. โEveryone likes vanilla.โ
Does pregnant Grace like vanilla? I have no idea and donโt want to be the one to send her stomach into turmoil. The fetus sheโs growing seems extraordinarily picky.
But I also donโt 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, โItโs delicious. A great option.โ
Maybe Iโm a good actress when it comes to anything Eli related, but Iโm clearly a terrible one when it comes to my vanilla aversion. Margotโs expression turns to stone.
โAre youย sick?โ Oh my god. โNโโ
โSorry Iโm late,โ comes a deep voice from the doorway.
The silence is immediate and absolute as Sarika and Margotโs attention flies over my shoulder. Margotโs eyes narrow in irritation. Sarikaโs widen in awe.
I whirl in my seat, my gaze colliding with Eliโs. And yeah, I get it. Heโs fairly awe-inspiring standing in the doorway, his minky hair cresting into anxious-finger waves, his eyes dark like the richest chocolate ganache. Heโs leaning an obscenely broad shoulder against the doorframe, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone.
Heโs beautiful. And Iโm going to strangle him.
โWhat are you doing here?โ I blurt, cake hitting my stomach like a rock. โWeโre in the middle of our appointment.โ Margot sighs. โIf you can call
it that.โ
โI apologize for interrupting.โ Eli directs that at Margot before turning his attention to me. โMy call ended early. Thankfully.โ
My smile is so plastic it cracks. โLove that, but I told you I had it.โ
โYou 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 thereโmine, 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. โThought 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 heโs here at all; and most distressing, relief that Iโm not doing this alone. That he showed up. Itโs a tiny dust mote of an emotion.
I mentally blow it away. It matters leastโitโs the first one I need to focus on, because he didnโt 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, whoโs watching us with her arms crossed.ย She looks like sheโs about to eat you.
Then his eyes slide to the tray of cake, straight to the slice thatโs been touched. He frowns. โDid you eat the vanโโ
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; itโs a slow scrape until I hit the warm skin just below his gray shorts.
Goose bumps explode over every square inch of my body.
โThe vanilla is very good,โ I say hoarsely, adding a silent,ย she canโt know vanilla makes me sick, we areย ruiningย this.ย โYou should try it, too.โ
โRight.โ Itโs 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. โGrace, the bride, loves tropical flavors like passion fruit. Do you have anything like that?โ
Margot stares at him, her lip curling up. โIโโ
โWait, how do you know that?โ I interrupt. Did they talk about it after I left last night?
He glances at me. โItโs on our lists.โ
โItโs not on my list. Is it on the full list you have?โ โI put it on your list, too.โ
โYou did not.โ
โExcuse me,โ Margot huffs out, stepping forward.
โGeorgia,โ Eli says, nodding his chin to my phone. โCheck your list. Itโs there.โ
โThis is why I need the full list,โ I tell him as I pull up his text, scrolling down impatiently. โSee, itโs not onโโ
Cakeย ๏ฌavors: passion fruit, orange, pineapple, chocolate with raspberry or other tart, vanilla
Well. Okay, so sheย doesย like vanilla.
โI told you weโd do fifty-fifty,โ Eli says quietly. โEverything you need to know is there. But if you want it all, Iโll give it to you.โ
โExcuse me.โ
I rip myself away from the clutch of Eliโs attention to find Margot standing at her full height. She looks seven feet tall.
She addresses Eli first. โYoung man, this is not a Burger King. You canโt 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 didnโt do. Between that, the latenessโโat this, her gaze lands on meโโand whatever loversโ spat this is, youโve wasted my time.โ
Eli starts to speak, but I rush out, โItโs not a loโ Margot, Iโm very sorry for this mix-up, butโโ
She holds up her hand, silencing me. Beside me, Eli stiffens. When I spare him a look, heโs 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. โSorry or not, this isnโt going to work. Youโll have to find someone else to bake your friendsโ wedding cake. Itโs not going to be me.โ
An apparition of the cake of Adam and Graceโs dreams grows wings and flies away. Somewhere, that old Sarah McLachlan song starts to play. And the check mark Iโd already mentally placed alongside our very first item on the Fix Adam and Graceโs Wedding list?
Erased.
