“One for us, one for the cake.”
Fiona and I looked at each other and nodded. “I'm okay with that.”
“Why am I not surprised?” A woman who looked exactly like the mean girl from any high school movie crossed her arms, leg jutting out in a model pose. She was well-dressed, but in New York City, if someone was talking to strangers, that meant either they were trying to sell something, or they were crazy. My default with dealing with crazy people in New York City was to purposefully and vigorously ignore them.
“I’m assuming you have no idea who I am,” she said as we all tried to move around her. “I'm Sloane.”
We all shrugged.
Sloane's nostrils flared at the slight. “I am currently the most important woman in Owen’s life. His company needs my company to vote for Quantum Cyber as the best place to work. He's going to do anything and everything I ask of him in order to win that prize.”
“Doubtful,” I said hotly. “I've been helping him, too, and I'm not trying to exploit him.”
I usually wasn't one to fight over a guy. I mean, come on, I did have some standards. But Sloane was really pissing me off. I was over there minding my own business, buying my weight in butter, and she just came over swinging her Christmas stocking around.
“Of course someone like you would think she had a chance with Owen.”
“Is all of this,” she gestured to the packed grocery cart, “for Owen, or are you all going to eat butter and sugar while watching movies?” She turned up her nose.
“What's with Owen and attracting crazy women?” I said out loud. “You're going to have to get in line, because my stepsister, Amber, also thinks she has a claim to him.”
“Is she another roly-poly baker like you?” Sloane said, smiling. It did not reach her eyes.
“Men like something to grab onto,” Fiona said hotly.
“She does have a lot, doesn't she,” Sloane sneered.
“Right, because she actually cares what some Upper West Side Becky has to say,” Morticia snapped.
“You'll see,” Sloane said with a smirk. “Don't even waste your time with Owen. He's mine.”
28
Owen
After the Svenssons had left the previous night, I’d prowled around the condo. All I could think about was Holly and how to make up an excuse to spend more time with her. My phone buzzed with texts from Sloane. I ignored them in favor of scrolling through Holly's Instagram. There was photo after photo of her striking fun, sexy poses in ridiculous, over-the-top outfits that usually featured a low-cut top and some sort of cinched waist that hiked her tits up.
I opened the windows at either end of the condo to bring in a frigid cross breeze. I was reaching a boiling point. Rudolph, worn out from chasing the Svensson kids around all evening, snoozed peacefully in the Christmas-themed bed Holly had purchased for him. It was a giant reindeer head, and the antlers flopped slightly in the breeze.
Though I had gotten a taste of the Christmas cookies she had brought over, I really wanted a taste of a different kind of cookie. I would have to settle for the sugar cookies, though. I'd reworked my computer program to give me the most likely combination of ingredients to make Christmas cookies like Holly's.
The first recipe looked, to my untrained eye, to be similar to what Holly had made in the bake-off: flour, sugar, butter. Should be easy. I creamed the butter until it was sort of smooth. I added the other ingredients, and the dough seemed fine. I rolled it out and cut out shapes. I didn't have a cookie cutter, so I freehanded it. This was just for a test.
While they baked, I made buttercream frosting.
“I mean honestly, how difficult could it be?” I said to the sleeping dog.
The fire alarm went off.
“Shit.” The cookies had spread across the cookie sheet, and some dough had dripped onto the bottom of the oven, where it was burning cheerfully.
“Fuck,” I yelled. I tossed the whole thing into the sink and turned on the water, making it sputter.
Cookie log: attempt one,I wrote.Failure.
On to attempt two.
The cookies were much more difficult than I had thought. I finally had to call it quits in the early hours of the morning. I did have an actual company to run.
