ELEVEN
HAYLEY HAD WALKED HER LAST POTENTIAL client the entire way to the front door that evening, thanking the couple earnestly before locking up the building behind them.
If she could’ve had just ten more minutes with them, she was positive she would have secured an offer.
But it was already a quarter after six, and Hayley had promised Gemma that she’d make it into Manhattan by seven.
So she begrudgingly said goodbye to them with the promise of following up the next day, and had begun to work her way up through the floors of condos, flicking off lights and straightening chairs as she went.
Hayley nearly jumped out of her skin when she discovered a straggler lingering inside the top-floor penthouse, lost in thought and framed by the sprawl of the Manhattan skyline.
Then she realized the woman was Maddie, and now there they were, sitting side by side in the backseat of a grimy taxi.
Hayley spotted a mysterious stain on the seat and wrinkled her nose, chancing a glance toward Maddie, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since buckling her seatbelt. Her face looked serene, once again lost in her own thoughts as she watched the city blur by her window.
Hayley forced her gaze away, resisting the urge to stare at the way warmth seemed to radiate from beneath Maddie’s skin.
They pulled up to the bakery exactly fourteen minutes late, and Hayley grimaced as she held the door open for Maddie.
Inside the shop, Hayley caught the slow, asymmetrical tug at the corner of Gemma’s mouth and knew that her best friend was already connecting the dots.
At least she doesn’t look too angry, Hayley thought in relief.
Caitlin, thankfully, appeared too occupied with the task at hand to question, or apparently even notice, their joint late arrival.
The wedding was only thirteen weeks away, and the to-do list still felt miles long. Appointments for rings, seating charts, and flower arrangements loomed ahead of Hayley, but that night’s task was one that she was more than happy to help the brides with—cake selection.
Just as Gemma opened her mouth to speak, a white-haired woman in a crisp chef’s coat emerged from the back, balancing two long porcelain platters in her hands.
She set them down on the table before them with a flourish, spreading her arms wide and smiling.
In front of them sat six thick, oversized slices of cake that smelled of sugar and pure heaven.
The pastry chef pointed to each slice in turn with practiced grandeur, detailing their flavor profiles.
There was, in order, a classic vanilla sponge cake with thick buttercream icing, a lemon chiffon topped with blackberry jam, a chocolate mousse with a hint of espresso, a carrot cake layered with whipped vanilla frosting, a red velvet ganache topped with sweet cream cheese, and an Earl Grey shortcake drizzled with white chocolate.
Hayley listened intently, her mouth already watering at the sight. Next to her at the table, Gemma caught her expression and suppressed a smile. Few people were aware of Hayley’s severe sweet tooth, but Gemma knew her better than anyone.
Hayley barely waited for the woman to disappear back into the kitchen before grabbing a fork and diving into the vanilla sponge cake. The others laughed and followed suit, all four groaning in delight from the first bite.
“So, Hayley, what do you think?” Gemma asked, keeping her eyes fixed on her plate. “I’ll always be partial to carrot cake, but do you think we should do the vanilla sponge?”
“I don’t know, Gemma.” Hayley eyed Gemma suspiciously, chewing her bite slowly. “I haven’t tasted the others yet.”
“But it’s good, right?” Gemma pressed, shooting a meaningful look toward Maddie. “I mean, without even trying the others.”
Hayley followed her best friend’s loaded gaze and noticed the bruised teeth mark on the curve of Maddie’s neck.
Ah. They weren’t talking about cake.
“Of course it’s good.” Hayley’s voice dropped an octave as she reached for the chocolate mousse. “But why would you commit without tasting every flavor?”
“Mhmm,” Caitlin hummed in agreement, oblivious to the subtext of their conversation and lost in a bite of carrot cake. “This is incredible.”
Gemma smiled lovingly at Caitlin before turning back to Hayley.
“Well, it looks to me like you’ve already found a sweet, moist—”
“Gemma,” Hayley said brusquely, clearing her throat. “Would you show me where the restroom is?”
Without waiting for an answer, Hayley gripped Gemma’s arm and hauled her toward the only other door in the small bakery.
Inside the cramped one-person bathroom, Hayley crossed her arms and leaned her back against the door. “Are you seriously doing this right now?”
“You had sex with her!” The pitch of Gemma’s voice made her wince.
“Keep your voice down,” Hayley hissed. “You told me to get to know her, and I was.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Gemma snapped quietly. “I thought you had an open house tonight—what’d you do, fuck her on a kitchen island or something?”
Hayley spluttered, feeling color rise to her cheeks.
“Oh my God. The kitchen island. Seriously, Hay?”
Hayley waved her off. “Look, I promise things won’t get weird. We’re both here being dutiful maids of honor, aren’t we?” She shrugged, the movement tight and unconvincing. “Plus, Maddie knows I don’t date. Hooking up was her idea.”
Gemma rolled her eyes, frustration radiating off her in waves. “You’re slipping, Hay.” She sighed, shaking her head. “First, you invite her back to your apartment, and now this? Maddie isn’t going to be okay with casual sex, you know, no matter what she says.”
Hayley’s instincts had warned her of that when Maddie first agreed to her terms, but she’d ignored it, choosing to trust that Maddie could handle her own emotions.
“You have my word, Gem,” Hayley promised. “If I feel like Maddie’s getting attached in any way, I’ll stop.”
“Which means you intend on sleeping with her again.” Gemma threw her hands into the air. “You’re playing with fire, Hayley.”
A slow smirk pulled at Hayley’s lips. “Maybe, but at least it’s hot.”
Gemma let out a final huff and shoved past her, leading them back out into the sugary air of the bakery.
“Everything okay?” Caitlin asked, her eyebrows pinched together in concern. Beside her, Maddie’s expression mirrored the question.
“Wonderful,” Gemma replied, shooting a final glare at Hayley before retaking their seats.
“Squish, I can’t decide.” Caitlin polished off the piece of red velvet ganache and set down her fork. “They’re just all so good.”
“Same—I’m zero help,” Maddie admitted with a sheepish smile. It looked far too innocent on the face of a woman with a fresh bite mark on her neck, Hayley thought.
She did her best to ignore the strange, unwelcome stirring in her chest as she focused on her own plate, but her gaze kept drifting. A tiny smudge of frosting sat at the corner of Maddie’s mouth, and all Hayley could think about was wiping it away with her tongue.
Get it together, Maddox.
Gemma must have gotten in her head.
Maddie caught Hayley staring and winked, snapping her out of her daydream.
Someone cleared their throat.
“Do you two need a second alone?” Gemma asked, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed. She leveled Hayley with a flat, knowing look.
For the first time that night, Caitlin looked between Hayley and Maddie, snorting as she seemed to finally piece together Gemma’s comments.
Hayley blew out a slow, controlled breath. “Well, I think the red velvet was my favorite, but it’s your wedding cake,” she added pointedly. “Your cake, your choice.”
Hayley tuned out while the brides discussed the finer details of the cake’s size, shape, and design. They had ultimately chosen a base of cocoa-scented red velvet ganache, a heart of the classic vanilla sponge, and a crown of spiced carrot cake.
She watched Gemma’s gaze soften when Caitlin requested that the carrot cake be put on top. A soft breath caught in Hayley’s throat, her chest aching, knowing it had been more than just a flavor choice. It was a silent promise to preserve Gemma’s favorite one for their first anniversary.
——
Later that night, all four of them settled outside under the dark sky while Caitlin popped open a new bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. The city hummed restlessly around them, but the air on the terrace was thick with the quiet contentment of a day well spent.
“Maddie, would you ever move to New York?” Gemma threw the question out into the silence, about as subtle as a brick.
“I don’t know.” Maddie paused, seeming to genuinely ponder it. “I love LA. It’s the only home I’ve ever known.” She leaned back against the cushions, a playful gleam creeping into her eye. “Manhattan is cool and all, but I’m not sure I get all the hype.”
Hayley scoffed. “Are you kidding me? New York City is so much better than LA.”
“No way,” Maddie countered, kicking off her sneakers and curling her legs up onto the patio sofa.
“We’ve got palm trees, beaches, perfect weather year-round.
” She drifted off, a dreamy look in her eyes.
“You haven’t lived until you’ve chased the sunset along the PCH with the top down, wind blowing through your hair, and the ocean beside you.
I don’t know, Hayley, it’s pretty hard to beat California living. ”
Well, when you put it like that.
“Fine, I’ll give you those things,” Hayley relented, setting her wine glass onto the coffee table with the definitive clack of someone gearing up for war. “But New York is so much more alive.”
“Well, maybe I just need someone to show me around.”
“No one knows this city better than Hayley,” Gemma chimed in, letting the statement hang in the air. It was a dare.
Hayley narrowed her eyes at Gemma, then back at Maddie. The gleam in Maddie’s gaze had turned wicked.
“Consider me your new tour guide,” Hayley declared. “We’ll start tomorrow night.”