I thought that was the point of getting married in private.
We didn’t discuss it last night—I was too busy getting my brains fucked out of me—but I thought it was implied.
Communication, Meirna.
It must be important for him. And he did do last night, especially for you.
Sucking in a deep breath to soothe downsomeof my irritation, I take one for the team because wearea team.
MEIRNA: Then I’ll see you at the rehearsal dinner, husband.
BOBBY: That’s sexy as fuck, Meirna.
BOBBY: I’ll see you tonight.
I need a Xanax and a cinnamon cheesecake cookie.
Chapter 5
Meirna
“Ithought we were doing the pistachio sponge with rosewater mousse, alternating with layers of lemon sponge and mascarpone cream. Vicki, whatisthis?”
Poor Vicki.
Because of Bobby and my cake choice forourwedding cake, she’s about to get an earful for not listening to Catherine rather than me.
The bride.
I’m surprised she hasn’t fired us as clients yet. Vicki is anamazingbaker who isn't lacking in clientele or business. The last thing she needs is mom-zilla over here schooling her cake orders and things we’ve—Bobby and I—have chosen.
“Bobby and Meirna decided to go with the almond sponge soaked in champagne syrup,” she replies flatly. “Layered with Tahitian vanilla bean buttercream and gold-dusted raspberries.”
Catherine’s head slowly turns to me, and I can already feel her red-hot anger from across the small table.
Though from the outside glancing in, you wouldn’t exactly notice. Catherine’s perfectly styled blonde hair is immaculate with her pink dress and matching diamond earrings. Her back isstraight, legs crossed, the elegance of the rich, and the model figure of a socialite that can’t be seen glaring at me like a normal person with emotions.
Except, if you stared for a second longer, you’d notice her French manicured nails turn red around the edges because she’s gripping her fork too tightly.
“Meirna,” she says slowly, her voice this steady coo that’s a facade of fake and aggravated. “Darling, I thought we discussed this.”
We did.
And, for the sake of my sanity, I usually cave and just allow Catherine to have what she wants, how she wants it, because going to battle with this woman requires energy levels I don’t have in groves.
I should’ve done more cardio over the last two years.
“Bobby detests mascarpone,” I remind her. “And he wanted?—”
“It doesn’t matter what you bothlike,” she cuts in a bit tersely. “But what the guests willenjoy.” She shoves the plate of almond sponge cake away and lifts her chin haughtily. “We’d like to try the dark chocolate truffle cake with hazelnut praline crunch layers, covered in Valrhona ganache, please.”
Vicki steals a look at me because there isnoway she’d be able to get a brand new wedding cake done by tomorrow, even if she stayed up all night.
The cake is done.
And again, why we’re here, honestly, I have no idea other than to appease Bobby’s mother and be on good terms with her because it’s important to Bobby.
I’d love to ship her off somewhere, however. She’s been almost impossible these last several months, and I’m reaching my wits’ end. I’ve never met a woman like her in my life and one is enough.
