“We are asking her today,” I said, glancing toward the kitchen. “We are doing the cake consultation this afternoon.”
Kitty took a breath like she was preparing to walk into battle. “Okay. Good. Great. Yes.”
Lucy wrote, KITTY won't ESCAPE AGAIN, then tore the page out and tucked it into Kitty’s clipboard like a bookmark.
Kitty looked down. “Is that for me?”
“It is for all of us,” Lucy said. “So we survive.”
Kitty gave a small, shaky laugh. “Thank you.”
I softened. “We want this to be beautiful. We just need to know what we are building.”
Kitty nodded, then looked past us toward the lobby as if she feared another surprise might be walking in at this exact moment. “I will get the bride and the groom to talk.”
Lucy grabbed her sleeve. “Keep James out of the kitchen unless we request him.”
Kitty blinked. “But he brings a camera with him.”
“Exactly,” Lucy said.
Kitty nodded like she understood completely and then hurried away.
Lucy turned to me. “If she tries to run, I will tackle her.”
“Don’t tackle Kitty,” I said, remembering the times she had when we were younger.
“I will tackle her gently,” Lucy promised.
We went back to the kitchen to finish setting up. I rearranged the cake samples, adjusted the bowls, and tried to ignore the way my eyes drifted toward the doorway every few minutes.
Braxton didn't appear.
I checked the time and told myself it was nothing. He was with Dex or William. He was working on something.
So why did it feel like a quiet punishment?
Or maybe he had left the inn and didn’t tell me…
Lucy watched me glance at the door for the third time and said, “If you keep doing that, I am going to start charging you rent for that anxious pacing.”
“I am not pacing,” I said.
“You are mentally pacing,” she corrected. “Which is worse. It has more endurance.”
I smoothed my apron. “He’s probably busy.”
Lucy’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You mean Braxton.”
“I didn’t say Braxton,” I said.
“You didn’t have to,” she replied.
Before I could deny anything else, Kitty appeared in the doorway with the bride and groom, two bridesmaids, and behind them the film crew, who were apparently now a permanent accessory like a scarf.
We discussed flavor, number of tiers, sugarblown flowers, and colors. Lucy pinned down the number of guests to fifty, the schedule of events, who the photographer and officiant were, photos outside, ceremony inside in the warmth of the large reception room, and the rehearsal schedule. We decided that the rehearsal dinner itself could be held at the back of the reception room since it was only the immediate family and wedding party. That way they would have some privacy from the rest of the guests in the regular dining room.
The consultant wrapped up with hugs and excited chatter. The bride thanked me again, the groom shook my hand, and the bridesmaids tried to sneak one more cake sample each while Lucy gently redirected them toward the door with the efficiency of a woman herding glitter-covered cats.
