Aisha has a doctor’s appointment and Audrey is, unfortunately, sick on her first day, and couldn’t start. Which means it’s been me flying through the bakery for the last two hours.
Solo.
But I called for backup and Clementine has joined me and Remy too, since she’s not working for the Foxes till this evening.
I grab the last cake from the oven, set it down on the counter to cool, and whip off my oven mitts. I swing my gaze quickly to the clock. “I’ve got an hour to get to the university,” I say, rushing over to the freezer, where I grab one of the two cakes that have been cooling for twenty minutes.
“This is the best cake hack I’ve ever heard of,” Remy says, as she hands me the container with icing.
“It is,” I say quickly, as I unwrap the plastic wrap from the cake. When you’re in a time crunch, the Saran wrap helps prevent freezer burn and moisture loss as the cake cools enough to ice it.
Quickly but carefully, I apply the frosting, then sculpt some flowers as decoration. Once the cake on the counter is ready for its chill session, I Saran wrap it and slot it into the freezer. Then I race against time and ice another, then the final one.
“You’re Wonder Woman,” Clementine says when we finish.
“If Wonder Woman is a hot, sweaty mess, who smells like—” I stop to sniff my armpit. “Don’t answer that.”
“Sex?” Remy asks, wiggling her brows.
But I can’t even laugh or gloat. I just feel gross. I haven’t had time to change since I sprinted out of Corbin’s bed.
“Speaking of,” I say, then nod to the stairs.
There’s barely enough time for me to run upstairs and put on fresh panties and jeans, then slick on some deodorant. I fly downstairs and then mix some cookie dough that Aisha will need, stat, and put the cakes in boxes.
At eleven-thirty, Aisha walks in, and I say hello, give her the batter, then say goodbye to my friends.
I set the cakes down in the back seat of my car and peel away from the bakery, taking a back road to the highway, then tapping the gas. I’m cruising along at five miles above the speed limit. That’s safe. Everyone knows you can go five miles faster than allowed.
I get off at the next exit and I’ll maybe, possibly make it to the university on time when sirens blare. There must be an accident up ahead or behind me. But when I peer into the rearview mirror, I groan. A highway patrol officer is pulling me over.
Fifteen minutes later, with a speeding ticket in hand, I resume driving to the university. I call my mother along the way, but she doesn’t answer. I dictate a text at the light. Soon enough, I arrive but the parking lot is full since the universe hates me all over again. I pull into an overflow lot and somehow I’m able to balance two boxes of cakes as I rush through the lot and up the steps, and then yank open the door to the brick building.
It smells like old books and ideas, and I hustle down the cavernous hall, past portraits of thoughtful-looking men and women to the faculty dining room. When I reach the stately oak door, my mother’s standing outside pacing, arms crossed. The second she sets eyes on me, she breathes a sigh of relief.
“Mabel,” she says, but her voice is sharp. “What happened?”
All I can say is, “I’m sorry. I tried to text you. I called too.”
“My phone is on silent right now. I didn’t want to be disturbed during the luncheon. Are you okay?”
That’s a loaded question. I’d thought I was. I’d thought I was handling everything well. But I’m not sure I’m okay at all. “I’m just running a little late,” I say, not wanting to admit the truth.
She sighs. “Well, you’re here now.”
She gives me a once-over and even in my fresh jeans and slicked on deodorant, I must still look like somebody who rolled out of bed and went straight to the bakery.
BECAUSE I DID.
She gives me a nod. “I’ll take it from here.”
“I have one more cake to get.”
She nods down the hall. “Please go do that.”
Shame coursing through me, I rush back out, jog across the parking lot, and snag the last cake from the car. I find my mom once more in the hall and hand it over.
“Dear,” she says in herthis is going to be a lessontone of voice. “I get that this is new for you and there’s a lot to balance, but running a business is a lot of work. Like we talked about at dinner.”
