“Hell no. Who knows the last time they cleaned these carpets.”
I want to remind him thathe’sthe one so adamant about keeping his distance and setting unreasonable boundaries, but I don’t get the chance. “Okay, but-”
“Violet, it’s fine,” he snaps. “Just get in the damn bed.”
“Landon, I don’t know-”
“I’m tired. It’s late. I said it’s fine.”
“You don’t sound fine,” I mutter. “You sound annoyed.”
“Yeah, well.” He runs his hand through his hair and glares at the most stunning hotel room I’ve ever stepped foot in like it’s a rickety old shack in the woods. “I’m annoyed at the hotel for fucking up the reservation. Not at you. Things are…hard enough already withoutthis.” He gestures to the bed, and heat creeps into my cheeks. I’m not sure what he means by that exactly, but I try not to dwell on it.
“Alright, if you say so,” I mutter, pulling back the covers on the right side of the bed. Landon does the same on the left, and we both slide beneath the crisp, white sheets.
Landon clicks off the lamp on his nightstand, shrouding the room in darkness. The only glow emanates from the TV, and it’s not long before he shuts that off too. “Night,” he mutters, flipping onto his side so he’s facing away from me.
“Goodnight,” I say, putting my back to him as well.
The bed is monster-sized. Big enough that I’d hardly know Landon was there if not for his soapy scent and the gentle pull of the sheet as he shifts his body. There’s no way I’m falling asleep with his imposing presence or with the images bombarding my mind, flashing back to that night in the pool, making my heart thump wild rhythms and my skin heat all over.
I push down the covers, wishing I could reach over and touch him. But I can’t. I won’t. Instead, I lie paralyzed on my side of the bed until I hear Landon’s breathing even out. Only then do I carefully roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling.
What are you doing, Violet?asks the judgmental voice in my head.How did you get here?
I don’t know how I got here, and I definitely don’t know what the hell I’m doing, so I shut it out and shut my eyes. I push away the images and force myself to relax, shifting my focus to tomorrow’s itinerary. Eventually, my exhaustion wins out, and I drift off to sleep.
THIRTY-SIX
Sugar Spectacle—or Baking Bonanza assomepeople call it—was worth it.
I wasn’t sure what to anticipate from the conference, but it exceeds my expectations in every way imaginable. There are so many kinds of people here, from professional bakers, to business owners, to foodies who just love to experiment. It’s incredible, being surrounded by like-minds who are passionate about whatI’mpassionate about, and I soak in each and every second.
The morning is jam-packed. After wandering from booth to booth and watching multiple demonstrations, I take a class that teaches me how to create pulled sugar ribbon and another that focuses on the art of cake decorating.
After lunch, I attend a few talks in the main hall, one from a female business owner who runs a shop that specializes in all sorts of decadent ice cream sandwiches and another from a man who built his entire baking career off internet videos and social media. The man, Carter, started off working in IT before realizing that he could make money off his true passion—cronuts—and all it took was his kitchen and his iPhone. He accumulated thousands of followers after one of his videos went viral and then worked hard to build up his brand. He released his first cookbook last month.
When Carter finished his presentation, I hang around the stage, hoping to get the opportunity to talk to him directly. After he signs a few books and t-shirts, the crowd disperses, and I make it to the front of the line.
"Hi,” I blurt before he can say anything. “Your talk was so inspirational. Like, really incredible. I admire you and what you do so much, and I was wondering if you could answer a few questions. If it’s not too much trouble, of course. I wouldn’t want to waste your time. I’m sure you’re so busy here. You probably have tons of people to talk to and a lot of autographs to sign.”
It takes effort to shut my mouth, and then I just stare at him, wide-eyed, hoping he doesn’t just turn around and walk away. Thankfully, he doesn’t. Carter smiles at me and sticks out his hand. “Carter Weston. Of course, I have some time to talk. I didn’t get your name, though.”
I shake his hand, perhaps a bit more emphatically than necessary. “Oh. Sorry. Right. I’m Violet James. I do a lot of baking myself. I post it on social, too, actually, but I have a very, very minor following. That’s why I found your talk so incredibly inspiring. I’d give anything to be able to do what you do someday. I guess I’m just trying to figure out if what I’m doing could be something…more.” I shrug, my face heating. “Sorry. That was too much.”
He smiles at me. “Not at all. I’d love to give you any advice. Can I see your account?”
I quickly pull out my phone and open my profile. “I have a bit of a…gimmick,” I say, passing him the device. He keeps scrolling through, and when he doesn’t say anything, I start to panic. “Sorry if it’s a little bit…crass.”
He laughs. “Not crass at all. I love the bikini angle. It’s clever, honestly, and I think there’s so much more you can do with it.”
“You do?”
He nods. “I do. But first, you need to grow your online presence. Post videos as well as photos. Interact more with fans. Create a mailing list. I don’t know if you’re filling orders, but it’s much easier with a website. The consumer can see exactly what to order and how to contact you,andyou can force them to leave a review of your services when it’s over. You should get some professional photos taken, too. Not just of you, but of some of your recipes.”
“Do you think I should, I don’t know, try to move away from the whole bathing suit thing?” I ask, hating how ridiculous it sounds. “It kind of started on a whim.”
“Not unless you’re uncomfortable with it. When I started, I made every single video wearing the same sweater. It had a dancing cupcake on it, and eventually, it got so worn and torn that I had to throw it out. If anything, I think you should lean into the beach vibe, but you have to fully commit. Write a beach-themed cookbook. Launch some merch. Hell, cupcake-themed bathing suits would sell likethat. You just gotta put in time and dedication. There’s so much opportunity now with social media for anyone to pursue anything if they’re persistent enough, but if you want it, you’ve gottagofor it.”
