The verified checkmark next to her name confirmed that the message had really come from her account.
serenawattsofficial: I need a cake for my sister’s birthday next week. I know it’s at the last minute, but it would mean the world to her. It doesn’t have to be anything extravagant, just so long as I get the cake from you.
If it had been just about anyone else, my answer would’ve been no. But Serena had starred in several of my favorite chick flicks, so it felt like she was a friend instead of a stranger. One who had kept me company during some of the worst times when sugar alone couldn’t fix what was broken inside me.
I glanced at my wall calendar, figuring out what it would take to squeeze in an extra when she needed it. I’d miss out on a few hours of sleep a couple of nights in a row, but it wouldn’t be the first time. I would make it work.
I quickly replied before getting back to the video I wanted to post. Once that was done, I felt like I was on top of the world. Nothing could ruin today.
I was in the groove, rolling out a mixture of modeling chocolate and fondant for a hyperrealistic cake order due to be picked up in two days. The macaroni and cheese design would take me at least six hours to complete, so I wanted to get the noodles done today.
My focus was on the chocolate, so it took a moment before I realized the loud voice I heard wasn’t someone on speakerphone. Which happened more often than you’d expect in the bakery.
“Like I said, this isn’t what I asked for.”
The male voice was sharp and…oddly familiar. But it was the stammered response that made me set down my knife and pull off my gloves.
Jenny had just started working for me two weeks ago, and this was the first time she was on her own at the register while Susan was out for lunch.
She was sweet, helpful, and eager to learn. But also shy. I’d been helping her build confidence, encouraging her to trust that she knew what she was doing. She did, but dealing with a confrontational customer wouldn’t be easy for her.
“My assistant said this was the best bakery for custom orders. Clearly, she was wrong.”
The man was still berating Jenny as I shoved the door open and stepped into the front of the shop. I thought I was ready to de-escalate the situation, but I was proved wrong when my gaze landed on the customer.
Annoyance was written all over his gorgeous face. His green eyes were narrowed, his dark brows drawn together, and his plush lips were pressed into a flat line. A muscle jumped in his bearded jaw, and his nostrils were flared.
I had always known that Gage could be intimidating when he was angry, but I never expected to see it for myself again. Let alone in my bakery.
Seeing him unexpectedly after so long knocked the breath from my lungs.
He was harsher than I remembered but still devastatingly handsome in that polished, boardroom-prince kind of way. His bespoke suit fit his tall, muscular body like a glove. Theexpensive watch on his wrist was the same one he wore when we were together.
But it was his eyes that caught me. The second he saw me, he stopped mid-breath.
Frozen, as though he’d seen a ghost.
Which was ironic when he was the one who’d buried me in his past without a proper goodbye.
I pulled in a breath and forced my expression to neutral as I moved to stand beside Jenny and set my hand on her shoulder. “Do me a favor and check on the cake that’s in the oven.”
She blinked at me, clearly flustered, but caught the edge in my tone and nodded. “Of course.”
She turned and all but darted into the kitchen, the swinging door flapping behind her. Then I turned to Gage.
Now that it was just the two of us, I didn’t bother smiling anymore. “You really haven’t changed. Still barking orders at people as though the world revolves around you.”
He opened his mouth, but I wasn’t in the mood to give him a chance to defend himself. Holding up my palm, I snarled, “I put up with your arrogance when we were together, but I have no reason to do it now.”
“Tessa—”
“Nope.” I shook my head as I punched a few buttons on the register before yanking open the drawer and grabbing a handful of cash. I tossed the bills at him. “This should cover your order, now get the hell out of my shop.”
“I don’t?—”
“I don’t care how rich or powerful you are. Or what you think you’re entitled to.” I pointed at the door, my voice rising. “Setting aside how you ended our relationship, you don’t get to come in here, yell at my employee, and act like you have no clue why I’m kicking you out.”
His jaw flexed. “I wasn’t yelling. I was just?—”
