“Oh…”
“Oh? Now you sound disappointed.”
“Well—” My friend made a face.
“Well what?” I demanded. “You were about to chew me out for sleeping with a client.”
“Former client,” Sophie said. “He paid up, right?”
“Yes, but now he’s paying for Imogen’s wedding.”
“But the contract is with her,” Sophie said, placing a little card with the cake name on it next to each perfect confection.
“I can’t believe you’re encouraging me to do this,” I said.
“I’m not encouraging, I’m just saying that if a guy like that wants to use you for rebound sex, well…” My friend shrugged.
“I’m not just going to be his hookup,” I said, crossing my arms.
“Be realistic,” Sophie argued as she set the plates and silverware out. “Evan’s not going to fall in love with you and marry you. He’s still reeling from the end of his engagement. He’s literally only good for sex—not emotional support, not a relationship, just hot and heavy sex. That you will give details of to the rest of us who eat too much cake and frosting to fill the giant holes inside of us since we don’t have a dick handy.”
“Speaking of,” I muttered as Evan walked into the small space and took off his sunglasses.
“He looks good enough to eat,” Sophie whispered to me.
“You’re a bad influence.”
“Of course I’m a bad influence! I’m a baker. I foist rich, calorie-laden cakes on people. I’m basically the devil but wearing a cute apron and carrying cupcakes instead of a pitchfork.”
Evan sauntered up to me.
“Eat the cake,” Sophie whispered in my ear and ducked away to rearrange the silver tray of chilled sparkling water.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Evan said in that deliciously low voice.
“You know me: if there’s cake, I’m coming,” I joked.
Evan raised an eyebrow.
“Not like that,” I said, turning red.
“So you mean you won’t come if I give you cake?” Evan asked.
“I mean maybe if you’re wearing it while making me. I mean not you, specifically, but a hypothetical man. Otherwise, cake can’t really make you come. That would be pretty unsanitary.”
“I’d lick it all out,” Evan said, his fingers resting lightly at my hip as he bent down to whisper in my ear.
Gulp.
“Gross! It smells like sugar in here,” Imogen complained, striding through the doorway, large sunglasses perched on her nose.
Mika hurried in behind her. She smiled at Sophie and me. “These cakes are so pretty! I wish you could just buy little tiny mini cakes. They’re so adorable!”
Imogen turned up her nose at her half sister. “Ugh, you don’t need any more cake.” She swung her attention to me. “I’m on the kale-and-scallop diet. I’ve lost five pounds in two weeks. Make sure you let the dressmaker know.” Imogen looked me up and down. “You should try it. It does wonders for your physique, and I feel like I have a ton of energy.”
“It’s her body eating her brain,” Mika muttered to me.
“Oh man, cake!” Teddy exclaimed, jingling his keys as he made a beeline for the desserts. “Can we taste it?” he asked.
