“Just hold on. We're going to right it,” she said. She and I gingerly tipped the cake back upright. “Thank goodness you had the fondant on. It was like Spanx for your cake.”
I was not in the mood for jokes.
“Seriously, Amber! You keep trying to ruin my desserts!” I turned and yelled at her.
“You're trying to ruin my life!” she yelled back. “You steal everything good in my life.”
“Girls,” Dana hissed, striding over, high heels clacking on the polished concrete. “I have two more days with you, then I am going to celebrate Christmas with all the alcohol. Stay away from each other.”
“But she—” I protested.
“I don't care. Finish your cakes.”
60
Owen
The tension was high in the studio when I returned. During the day, I had caught up with work, taken Rudolph for several walks, met with my younger brothers about what in the world they planned on doing when they graduated, and now it was eleven p.m. and the contestants were still working on their cakes.
The Weddings in the City girls had already returned and were watching, enraptured.
“This is impressive,” Zoey said.
“I need to hire Holly,” her friend Gracie replied.
I didn't want Holly to have a job that would take her away from me for long stretches. She needed perhaps a café that closed in the early evening. But then, it was her life. I shouldn't try to dictate it.
Holly was carefully icing the wedding cake with intricate designs. On each tier was a different winter scene. The bottom was reindeer in a snowy pine forest. The next was a panorama of a countryside after a fresh snowfall. The next depicted little fairies riding snowflakes. Edged on the rims of each cake were icicles of icing.
It was exquisite workmanship. I respected technically perfect work. I demanded it of my programmers, and I appreciated that Holly also shared the same values. Though she acted fun, especially in bed, Holly was also very serious about the quality of the work she produced. I felt a renewed sense of conviction that she was exactly who I needed in my life, contrary to what my parents believed. Not that I cared. But it was nice to be right.
The buzzer sounded as Holly was inspecting the sugar flowers she had arranged sparingly on the cake. The production assistants very carefully wheeled each cake out to be photographed and videotaped, then they brought them to the judges’ table.
Holly's cake was first.
“What amazing workmanship!” Zoey congratulated her.
“I appreciate it. It's all winter and no Christmas,” I said with a slight smile.
“There's a bit of Christmas if you know where to look,” Holly said.
“I'm just in awe that you managed to do all this in a day,” Gracie said.
“I'm definitely ready for a drink,” Holly replied with a laugh.
“You've earned it!”
“I don't even want to cut into it; it's too pretty to eat,” Gracie said.
“I'm going for it,” Zoey said, cutting a neat slice of the middle tier and taking a bit. “Good crumb, moist, great flavors, perfect wedding cake!”
Fiona had a great cake as well.
“I feel like I’m going to be up all night!” Zoey joked as she took a bite. That particular tier was espresso flavored. Fiona's cake wasn’t as tall as Holly's, but she had done more with hers. It looked like a stack of presents in a leaning pile, but it wasn't hokey. The ribbons were made of pulled sugar. Fiona had lightly colored the cake presents and dusted the royal icing that she'd used to decorate them with patterns of fine silver and white gold dust.
Amber's cake was the worst. Also, the topper looked suspiciously like me.
“I had premonitions while making this cake,” Amber said. “Premonitions of a wedding with a handsome ice prince.”
