I beelined over to the table, only to get stopped by Cassie and her small group of friends.
“You look lovely,” she commented, her eyes dipping to my dress for a quick once-over. “Wish I looked that good in a skirt.”
“Pff,” I countered dismissively. My belly and hips filled out my dress, but that just made me look hotter. “So who’s the caterer this year?”
“Nouveau’s.”
Ugh, them? Their cakes were so good, they made mine seem horrible. My eyes narrowed as I chewed on my lip, hating how much I wanted to fill up an entire plate of their treats.
“Be right back,” I told her, and sidestepped all the way over to the refreshment table. The scents coming from every single platter made my knees weak. The delicate tarts. The artfully decorated cupcakes. Perfectly round cookies. Eclairs you could bounce a quarter off of. ThePain aux Raisinspastries looked so light and fluffy, they might float away. I plucked a pink macaron from the table and pinched it between my fingers, feeling a slight sponginess to the cookie. A single bite made me moan throughthe soft, chewy center as a burst of sweet laced my tongue. “Motherfuckers.”
“Almost insulting, right?”
I coughed and almost dropped the other half of my macaron.Jade. Of course. Like honey to flies, she was always nearby. Not the best analogy when I’m trying to eat. She was correct, however. It was annoyingly delicious. “God, I know. They don’t have to show off like this. We get it, you’re the best,blah blah blah.” It was impossible to hide my squeal of delight when I finished the cookie.
“Fifth year in a row they’ve catered. They can’t leave any room for the rest of us.”
“Now who does that sound like?” I taunted, giving her a quick grin. Her eyes flitted over to me, and I almost tripped back into the table before righting myself.
“Not everything is a competition.”
“I don’t remember you ever caring about baking, and then you were suddenly all interested a month after I opened my bakery.”
“God, you’re never going to let that go.”
I chose one of thePain aux Raisinsnext. It was so soft and moist on the outside, it was almost better than the custard filling. Stupid fucking Nouveau’s and their fucking amazing pastries. “I hate them so much,” I told her, my mouth still full.
“I know. I had a cupcake and it was insulting. Tried all damn year to improve my buttercream, and they breathe on stuff and it’s magically amazing.”
She tried to improve her buttercream? It had been a long time since I ate anything from Blissful Bites. I didn’t need to eat her famous Bear Claws to know everyone buzzed about her, even the people who came to my bakery. Hearing the praise only fueled my dislike for her.
I wiped the back of my sweaty neck and shoved the last bite of pastry into my mouth. “Fuck, it’s hot in here.”
Her eyes were on me, narrowing with every second. “Yeah, it is. Go get some water.”
“You’re not my mother.”
She clicked her tongue and her eyes drifted to the rest of the room. “You’re so testy. I’m just trying to be nice.”
It wasn’t just the sweat that made me on edge around her. It was other things. Things I tried hard to forget. Things I had no business lingering on.
“Sorry.”
Wow. She had me apologizing now. Was there anything she couldn’t make me do?
“Hope that new mixer is out,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“The Rousseau? Ugh, I have not been able to stop thinking about that since they teased it last year.”
“Me either. Those sleek lines, and the ease of changing attachments. Drool.”
The expression on her face, appreciation and desire, almost made me wonder if she was staring at someone in the crowd. As I glanced over to see if that was true, it dawned on me: we were having a moment. She was already sinking her claws in me, drawing me closer for the kill.
“I am off to get a drink.” I left no greetings or niceties. I’d already talked with her more than I should’ve.
Wiping my forehead again, I ordered a mixed drink from the bar and mingled around the hall, more for business reasons than pleasure. You never know who might be a potential investor, or who might be willing to share new ideas. Two years ago, I was able to buy us new ovens at a steep discount because I made friends with the vendor during the event. Making my rounds would be worth it if I could snag another deal like that. If Iwaited until tomorrow, all the benefits of this pre-convention meet-up might be wasted.
If only I didn’t feel so damn hot.
