* * *
“Ah,Breaker. I wasn’t sure you needed to be here with us during the cake testing as well,” The Beave says, her nose surprisingly stuck up in the air much more today.
“Oh yeah, I’ll be here for everything. Plus, it’s cake. Can’t miss a chance for some free samples.”
On the drive over, Lia and I denied everything from last night beautifully and instead, spoke about many, many, and I mean many cake flavors that could throw The Beave into an absolute fit. It was as if we found a topic that we could exploit and ran with it.
“Very well.” The Beave pulls her lightweight jacket that matches her skirt together. “Shall we head in?”
“We shall,” I say, which causes Lia to chuckle.
I hold the door open for them and then slide in behind Lia, where I poke her in the side and then whisper in her ear, “Don’t laugh at me, or The Beave will know we’re in cahoots.”
“Pretty sure it’s too late for that,” she says just as the baker greets us.
“Mrs. Beaver, thank you so much for joining us today.”
“Of course.” She gestures to Lia and says, “This is Ophelia, the bride, and this is her friend, Breaker Cane.”
“Hello, it’s very nice to meet you.”
The door opens behind us, and I turn around just in time to see Brian walk into the bakery. From the mere sight of his punchable face, my irritation rises. What the fuck is he doing here?
“Ah, there you are, sweetheart,” The Beave says.
“Brian,” Lia says, startled. “What, uh, what are you doing here?”
“I was able to move a few meetings around. Couldn’t miss the cake testing.” He leans in, grabs her by the back of her neck, and kisses her on the lips. When he releases Lia, he turns toward me, pats me on the shoulder, and says, “Hey, man. I got it from here. You can take off.”
Uhhh . . .
I glance at Lia, hoping she doesn’t agree with this decision, and to my luck, she says, “No, Breaker can stay. I’d love to have his opinion still.”
Thank fuck for that.
“Okay, sure. The more, the merrier,” Brian says with a smile that reads fake.
That’s right, you motherfucker. As if he can just fucking waltz on in here and act like he’s the doting fiancé.
Sure, it’s a cake testing for his wedding, but he’s acting like he’s been at every meeting, and he hasn’t. The more, the merrier . . . he can fuck off with that.
“Well, then, why don’t you four take a seat, and I’ll get the samples ready for presentation? I’ll be out shortly. In the meantime, can I have my assistant grab anyone champagne?”
“Please,” The Beave says. “One for everyone.”
More like one for each hand, thanks.
I reach to pull out Lia’s chair for her, but Brian gives me the stink eye of all stink eyes, so I back off. Instead, I pull out my own chair and mentally thank myself for being so gentlemanly. The Beave sits next to me, Brian sits next to The Beave, and Lia sits between us like a happy little family.
Not uncomfortable at all.
“Now, I’ve informed the baker of our preference of flavors,” The Beave starts out with.
“What would those be?” I ask. “Because I don’t think you asked Lia.”
“I told her what Lia likes,” Brian says.
“Oh, and what did you say?” I question.
