“This one is called cinnamon roll.” Peyton sliced off generous pieces of fudge and handed them to her friends. “Something is missing, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
Harlow nibbled the edge before taking a bigger bite. The cinnamon and brown sugar tickled her tastebuds. She rolled the morsel around on her tongue. “I can taste the cinnamon. There’s also a hint of creaminess.”
“Marshmallow cream.”
Noelle bit into her piece. “I love cinnamon rolls so this is right up my alley.” She took another bite, savoring the flavors. “I like the marshmallow cream but think it needs a smidgen more cinnamon.”
Harlow polished off her piece. “I agree. Maybe a tad more cinnamon.”
“Duly noted.” Peyton sliced off two more pieces, this time from another block. “I have a different issue with this flavor. Give me your honest opinion.”
Harlow held up the piece, a layer of pink and white. “Let me guess…almost Neapolitan?”
“Coconut ice.”
“I love coconut.” Noelle ate half the sample in a single bite. “A cascade of coconut.”
Peyton wrinkled her nose. “Too much?”
Her friend popped the rest of the piece into her mouth. “Not for me, but maybe for someone else.”
“It’s crumbly.” Harlow plucked a crumb off her sweater and licked her finger. “I love coconut too, but it might be a little much.”
“So…more cinnamon and less coconut.” Peyton thanked them for their feedback. “I was thinking about you, wondering if you found anything else out about Cheyenne’s acting debut.”
“She’s such a trip.” Noelle rolled her eyes. “She’s bragging to anyone who will listen.”
“I wouldn’t be bragging too loudly,” Harlow said.
“Did you find out what kind of commercial it was? Do they plan on airing it, because I would love to see it,” Peyton said.
“Yes, and I’m not sure if it will ever air.”
“Yes, you know what kind of commercial it is?” Noelle asked.
“I do.” Harlow bit her lower lip, struggling to keep a straight face and failing miserably.
“It’s a comedy,” Peyton guessed.
“Not intentionally.” Harlow looked away, her smile firmly in place.
“I’m dying to know.”
She started to reply, and Noelle stopped her. “Hang on. I want to guess.” She snapped her fingers. “What sort of advertisement would Cheyenne be inclined to act in?”
“I’m gonna guess a luxury resort or spa commercial,” Peyton said. “Lounging on a chair by the pool while some hunky cabana boy waits on her, serving her drinks.”
“I’m sure she would have preferred that.”
“A credit card ad where she’s shopping ‘til she drops?” Noelle guessed. “From what I’ve heard she’s a shopaholic.”
“Nope. Think more along the lines of pharmaceutical.”
“Plastic surgery.”
“Even that would be preferable. It’s a commercial for GFS, Gastric Flare Syndrome.”
Noelle’s jaw dropped.
