“Georgie,” Mom hisses, “that’s the fourth chocolate cake sample you’ve taken. We’re supposed to be helping, not conducting a one-woman cake demolition.”
“It’s quality control, Red,” Georgie protests, somehow managing to look dignified despite the frosting on her chin. “We can’t serve subpar dessert to paying customers or to any self-respecting wedding guest. I’m doing this for the inn’s reputation and ours.”
Your dedication to excellence is truly inspiring,” Mom says dryly. “Nothing says professional standards like frosting in your hair and cake crumbs on your shirt.”
“What can I say, I like to throw myself into my work. Plus, buttercream is great for split ends.”
Charlotte giggles at their exchange. “You two little old ladies are just adorable! Conrad, are you getting this? This is exactly the kind of authentic family moment that makes great content.”
Mom inches back.Who is she calling old?
Georgie makes a face.Who is she calling little?
Conrad positions himself even closer to Charlotte, his hand brushing hers as he helps steady her phone. “Natural interactions are always the most compelling.”
Sweet mercy, the audacity,Bea thinks from her seat at the main table.He’s practically undressing my daughter with his eyes while her fiancé is sitting three feet away. And what does Piers do? Absolutely nothing. What kind of man lets another man paw at his bride? An idiot. And that’s exactly what Piers Pemberton is.
“Shall we begin the actual tasting?” Bea says with the patience of a mother-of-the-bride who’s been planning this wedding for months and desperately wants something to go according to plan. “Before the cake disappears entirely to quality control.” She takes a moment to scowl at Georgie.Or before Conrad begins to nibble on my poor daughter.
“Sure thing,” Emmie calls out while handing out small plates and forks to everyone in the room from the wedding party. “I suggest starting with the lighter flavors and working your way up to the chocolate decadence.”
“Excellent strategy,” Georgie calls out from her corner. “Although I can personally recommend jumping straight to the deep end of the good stuff. Life is too short for delayed gratification!”
Mom huffs a laugh. “That’s been her motto for the last fifty years.”
Georgie lifts her fork to the crowd. “And I’m still kicking because of it.”
The café breaks out in cackles and catcalls once again. I’ve got to give it to Georgie, she knows how to work the room.
“Some of us believe in building anticipation,” Kiki says pointedly, looking directly at Piers.
“And some of us believe in taking what we want when we want it,” Conrad adds with a grin, causing Charlotte to blush and Piers to seethe.
“And that would be Conrad’s motto,” Piers says, and the room falls apart again. “Do you have that embroidered on pillows?”
Conrad shoots him a look that isn’t exactly friendly.
What in the world is going on with these two? They’re best friends, for Pete’s sake. But then again, they may not have been forced to spend a week together before. Apparently, their friendship has a shorter shelf life than a wedding cake.
“This is definitely getting interesting,” I mutter while settling into a chair with Ella, who’s fascinated by all the colorful decorations and reaching for everything within grabbing distance.
The wedding party dives into their cake tasting like it’s the most important meal of their lives. Charlotte takes a delicate bite of the vanilla bean and immediately closes her eyes like she’s found the meaning of life in buttercream.
I can’t blame her. I’ve found it there myself a time or two.
“This is absolute perfection,” she sighs, then opens her eyes to find Conrad watching her with far too much appreciation. “The raspberry filling is like... like summer in your mouth.”
“You have such a poetic way of describing things,” Conrad says, his voice dropping to what he probably thinks is a seductive level. “It’s refreshing to meet someone who truly appreciates quality.”
Unlike some people who appreciate anything with a pulse and a trust fund,Kiki thinks to herself as she glares at Piers.
“The vanilla is lovely,” Bea agrees, clearly trying to steer the conversation back to safer territory. “It reminds me of mygrandmother’s wedding cake.”Grandmother never had to worry about money the way I do now,she thinks sadly.If only Frank’s fortune had survived his gambling addiction. Charlotte deserves better than this financial mess we’re pretending doesn’t exist.
“What?” I gasp.
Piers works his way through the samples methodically, like he’s conducting a business evaluation rather than enjoying dessert. “The lemon lavender is interesting,” he says, holding up his fork as evidence. “Sophisticated but not pretentious. But the red velvet with white chocolate is my favorite.”
Unlike this entire wedding week so far,Kiki thinks while maintaining her polite expression.Red velvet with white chocolate is my favorite flavor combination and he knows it! It’s like he’s taunting me with that dingbat. He probably doesn’t even remember that I made him red velvet cookies at least once a week when we were together. It’s as if our relationship meant nothing to him.
