Ivy raises an eyebrow over the rim of her mug. “Was Theo’s coffee house even on the list?”
I giggle, which tells me everything I need to know about my current mental state. “God, no. Absolutely not.”
She snorts.
“But,” I add, leaning in slightly because this is clearly confidential intelligence, “I always knew I was going totell her that Kaiser’s Mug is an absolute top-secret cake spot. The Austrian chocolate mousse cake is divine. Very hush-hush. Very if-you-know-you-know.”
Ivy’s mouth twitches. “You’re evil.”
“I prefer strategic,” I say. “That woman will lose her mind over the idea that she’s getting something exclusive. She doesn’t want the best cake. She wants the best cake no one else has heard of.”
“That tracks,” Ivy says. “So why did you go on the cake pilgrimage?”
Theo appears at the table, setting down a Melange in front of Ivy and a pot of herbal tea in front of me with the careful precision of a man who knows when not to ask questions. Ivy thanks him, I inhale the steam like it’s medicinal, and then both of them pause.
“Free cake. For me and Pea-Lime.” I answer Ivy’s question.
“The who now?” Theo asks.
“Pea-Lime,” Ivy repeats, turning to me. “I feel like I should already know this.”
I pat my stomach automatically. “That would be the tiny tyrant currently dictating my dietary choices.”
Theo blinks. Ivy’s eyes widen.
“Oh,” Ivy says slowly. “That Pea-Lime.”
Theo straightens. “You’ve named it?”
“Yes,” I say. “It felt rude not to. Also, it has opinions.”
Theo looks between us. “About cake.”
“Mostly about crumpets,” I say. “Cake is a close second.”
Ivy laughs, warm and delighted. “So you took on ten posh cakes for the good of… Pea-Lime.”
“Exactly,” I say. “I consider it community service.”
Theo shakes his head, amused, and retreats back to the counter muttering something about people and their lives. Ivy lifts her cup in a mock toast.
“To Pea-Lime,” she says. “May it develop refined taste and reasonable demands.”
I clink my teacup against hers. “We can dream.”
I take a sip, set the cup down, then immediately lift my hand and point at Theo’s back. “Hang on. You. Come back.”
Theo turns mid-step, eyebrow already up. “Is something wrong with the tea,” he asks cautiously, “or do you want more cake?”
Ivy snorts into her Melange.
“I always want more cake,” I say. “But this is worse.”
Theo walks back over anyway, resigned. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”
“He’s charging me rent,” I say.
“‘He’ would be my brother, I assume?” Theo gives me a puzzled look.
