“Don’t eat it,” I warned.
“I was going to taste it for quality control,” she protested
“You were going to eat it because it is there,” I corrected.
Lucy gave me an innocent look that fooled nobody. “It is a thin line.”
I cut a small sample piece anyway and handed it to her. “Fine. Quality control. One bite.”
She took a bite and hummed. “You could sell this to people who don’t even like cake.”
“That’s the goal,” I said, but my smile felt thin.
Lucy watched me for a moment. “You’re thinking about Braxton again.”
“I’m thinking about frosting,” I prevaricated, unable to look at her.
“You are aggressively smoothing frosting,” she corrected, eyes on my hands. “That is a tell.”
I set down the spatula. “I’m not thinking about him.”
Lucy raised her eyebrows. “You are, though.”
I exhaled slowly and reached for my sketchbook instead. If I stared hard enough at buttercream swirls, maybe my mind would stop replaying yesterday. Maybe it wouldstop replaying this morning and the way Braxton had looked at me in disappointment for a brief moment before he left the kitchen.
Lucy set her notebook on the counter. “Before the cake consult, we need to corner Kitty.”
“I agree,” I said instantly. Anything to get off the confusing subject of Braxton. “If I hear the phrasewe will figure it outone more time, I might just scream.”
Lucy’s eyes lit with purpose. “Good. Bring your notebook.”
I took mine. It was already filled with lists that had started reasonably and ended as frantic scribbles.
We found Kitty in the hallway outside the reception room, speaking to a bridesmaid and gesturing with both hands like shewas explaining a complicated dance. Kitty’s cheeks were pink. Her hair had come loose from its neat clip.
Lucy waited until the bridesmaid wandered away, then stepped directly into Kitty’s path. I joined her, notebook open, and pencil ready.
Kitty stopped short. “Hey,is everything alright?”
Lucy smiled. It was a bright, pleasant smile with teeth. “No.”
Kitty blinked. “No?”
“Not unless you enjoy living dangerously,” Lucy said. “We need details.”
“I have details,” Kitty said quickly.
I tipped my head. “Do you?”
Kitty’s mouth opened, then closed. She offered a small laugh that sounded like a person trying to convince herself. “Yes. Of course. I have many details.”
Lucy pulled out her notebook. “Great. Tell us the number of guests for the wedding meal.”
Kitty hesitated. “Well. There are about forty staying at the inn.”
“That isn’t the same,” I said, keeping my voice calm with effort. “Some guests stay elsewhere and come for the event.”
“True,” Kitty agreed.
