Chapter 10
I pull up to a large brick home, where pink and champagne-colored balloons float in the air, tied to the archway that frames the path to the front door.
I’ve always been curious about what Haley and her husband do, considering their enormous house.
She has children, that much I know, but I’m not sure how many.
Or does she just host everyone’s parties?
I should get to know her better, since she’s given me a lot of business.
One large box of cupcakes balances on my forearm while my other hand holds the top of it. I turn to the side and hit my elbow on the doorbell. The sound echoes through the house. The door swings open, and Haley’s pearly white teeth glimmer under her wide grin.
“Hi,” she says, reaching her hands out. “Oh my gosh, let me grab that from you.”
“I got it,” I say, eyeing behind her. “Where do you want me to put it?”
She waves her hand. “Follow me.”
The clean, citrusy smell takes over my senses as I follow her in. The click of her white heels echoes through the house with every step she takes on the marble floor. Her pink dress hugs her body, making me question what she has going on even more to be dressed up this much on a weekday.
“Here is fine.” She points to the kitchen island.
I set down the box, glancing around as I open it. There are small-sized sandwiches on a three-tiered glass stand with a platter of fruits and vegetables.
Her mouth drops as she stares down at the pink cupcakes. “Those look wonderful.” She places her hand on the back of my shoulder. “My mouth is already watering,” she says.
I smile widely at how happy she is. “I need to get the chocolate ones. Can I leave the front door open?”
“Yes. Yes. Do whatever you need to do,” she says and turns around, taking the cupcakes out of the box and placing them on another three-tier glass stand.
I walk back in, inhaling the crisp smell again.
I set the cupcakes down as she swiftly turns around with a cupcake halfway in her mouth. “I couldn’t hold off any longer,” she mumbles.
I giggle. “I’m glad you like them. Do you want me to set these on the stand?” I ask, eyeing the chocolate cupcakes and the stand.
Her throat moves from swallowing the cupcake. “If you don’t mind. My friends should be here any minute.”
“I don’t mind at all,” I say, grabbing a cupcake and setting it on the stand. “So, is this for a birthday?” I narrow my gaze at her as she washes her hands after inhaling the cupcake.
She shakes her head. “It’s my monthly book club.”
“Book club,” I stutter and catch myself curling my lips underneath one another. This is a top-of-the-line book club.
Her shoulders slump. “It’s too much, huh?” she asks, glancing around.
I shake my head, still placing the cupcakes on the stand. “No. Not at all.”
She sighs. “I love hosting so much that I go all out.” She winces. “My husband says I should have been an event planner.”
“You do a good job. Every time I’ve dropped off desserts for you, your setup always looks great.”
She tilts her head. “You’re so sweet. Thank you.”
“Well, that’s the last of the cupcakes. I can throw away the boxes on my way out.” I say, breaking the boxes down.
A tight smile forms. “You’re a doll. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And thank you for your business. I always appreciate it.” I grab the boxes and head toward the door, listening to Haley’s heels click behind me.
“When are you going to open a storefront bakery?” she asks.
I halt my steps as soon as I get to the front door and turn to face her. “My husband keeps telling me to open one up.”
Her mouth parts. “You should.”
I shrug my shoulders. “I know it’s a good move. I’m just still too nervous to do it.”
She opens the door. “Well, if you ever need help with it, let us know. My husband invests in small businesses.”
“I will keep that in mind. Thank you,” I say, giving her a small wave as I head down the porch steps.
I get in my car and let out a sigh as my car engine hums to life. Dropping off desserts to her always makes me nervous. I feel like she has such high standards, given how she lives and her looks. But she obviously likes my desserts and always returns for more. I need to stop being nervous.
I slow my car down as I get to a four-way stop. The car on my right side goes by, and I sit and stare at it while it drives across. As soon as I step on the gas, I drive-through, passing a truck that looks familiar. I take a second glance and notice it’s Zayn’s.
Where’s he going? His job sometimes does house calls. I wouldn’t doubt this ritzy neighborhood prefers house calls. I pull out my phone and call him. It rings repeatedly on the other end until it goes to voicemail.
Weird.
I throw it to the back of my mind and continue home.