Chapter Twenty
ELLIE
The second we entered The Sweet Spot, the delicious smell of baked goods overloaded my senses in the best way possible.
Behind the counter, the now-empty pastry case had probably held a variety of cupcakes, cookies, and other sugary delights earlier in the day.
A subtle scent of rich coffee led my nose to the fancy espresso machine gleaming on the counter.
“I think I need to stop by here more.” My stomach growled, reminding me we hadn’t had time for dinner between leaving the shelter and running home to get changed.
Celia would be furious if I showed up with dog fur all over me while she was being filmed.
Drew linked his hand with mine. “I’ve always loved their graham cracker cupcake, with its chocolate ganache center and burnt marshmallow frosting.”
I groaned. “Do not tempt me with sweets that are not available when I’m getting hangry.”
He cupped my jaw and kissed me. “I’ll go talk to Penny and see if she has anything left over.”
Oh, this man! I loved that he did stuff like this even without an audience, but I also hated it because it was making me crave his touch in so many ways that would mess up a fake relationship.
I checked my watch. 5:03 pm. So much for my sister being on time.
Not that I was surprised. The only thing Celia had ever been on time for was her birth.
“Hey, Pen!” Drew called out as he got to the counter.
A pretty blonde with voluptuous curves burst through the swinging door like it had been holding her captive. Flour dusted her cheek, chocolate streaked her apron, and her grin glowed so bright it could power the whole block.
“Drew! Look at you sneaking in like you’re on a sugar heist. What are you doing here?” Her voice fizzed with energy, like every sentence came with its own exclamation point.
“This is my girlfriend, Ellie.” He pointed my way. I gave a little wave. “Her sister has the cake tasting appointment.”
Penny’s bright eyes flicked to me, then widened. “Oh, my gosh, hi! Celia only mentioned bringing her mom, but the more tastebuds, the merrier. I’ve got plenty of samples.”
Drew leaned his elbow on the counter. “Any chance you might have a few things left over I can buy from you? We missed dinner.”
Penny gave us a sassy grin, practically bouncing on her toes.
“Oh, you poor, sugar-deprived souls—don’t worry, Penny to the rescue!
You two are officially my guinea pigs. I’ve been experimenting, and my sister says if I eat one more test batch, I’ll turn into a cookie.
” She disappeared into the back, calling over her shoulder, “Don’t let Drew steal your plate, Ellie.
He’s a cupcake and cookie thief, through and through! ”
Drew chuckled. “One time, Penny. It was just that one time.”
I couldn’t help smiling. Penny’s energy drew me in like she was a living sunbeam. It wasn’t just what she said—it was the sparkle in her eyes and the way her laughter fizzed like champagne bubbles.
Drew slipped back to my side, sliding his arm around my waist. I instantly relaxed, though a little voice in my head wondered if he and Penny had ever been more than friends. The thought made something sharp twist in my chest. “So you and Penny … ”
He squeezed my hip firmly, and shook his head. “What? No!”
“That was a pretty firm no,” I remarked.
Drew leaned in, his breath tickling my ear. “We grew up together, but she’s always been like a sister to me. She and Grace are best friends.”
Penny came out as Drew finished speaking, juggling cookie trays. “Speaking of Grace! How is she? I miss her face.”
“She misses you too, Pen. You’ve been the one who’s canceled a hundred times, according to her.”
Penny pressed a floury hand to her chest, her eyes wide and dramatic. “I know, I’m the worst best friend ever. But in my defense, ovens don’t run themselves, and apparently, neither do rent payments.” She put down one tray and brandished the other like Vanna White. “Salted caramel chocolate chip.”
Drew snagged a cookie and groaned after his first bite. “This is pure magic.”
“And this one—drumroll, please—is cookies and cream. Personally tested on three of my regulars and one delivery guy. You’re about to taste happiness incarnate.”
Drew inhaled another cookie, this time trying the cookies and cream.
“This is amazing,” I mumbled around a mouthful.
Penny clapped her hands, bouncing in place. “Yay! I wanted to add them to the winter rotation, but I’ve been fussing with the ratio for weeks.”
“It’s perfect,” I reassured her.
Her smile glowed like I’d handed her a winning lottery ticket.
The outer door swung open. “Oh, good. You’re here.” Celia swept into the bakery like she owned it, our mother right behind her. Two cameramen trailed behind them with their equipment already angling for the best shots.
Without so much as an apology for being late, Celia gently sat in a chair. “Is the lighting good for me here?” she asked, tilting her head toward one cameraman and flashing a practiced smile.
I bit back a groan. Of course she didn’t ask if the lighting was good for anyone else.
He nodded while the other cameraman panned the shop.
Behind the counter, Penny’s hands fluttered like startled hummingbirds. “Oh, um ... I didn’t realize you were filming this.” Her cheeks turned a rosy hue, while her smile stayed bright.
Celia gave a tiny laugh—one of those calculated, breathy sounds she used when she wanted to look adorable. “I’m so sorry. This is all happening so fast, I must have forgotten to mention it. Do you mind?”
Her tone was syrupy sweet, but the cameras caught every frame, and I realized she wasn’t talking to Penny at all. She was performing.
I still hadn’t asked which company was filming her. Usually, she handled her own videos and an assistant edited and posted them. Something about the whole setup felt off.
Our mother didn’t miss a beat. She pulled out her phone and held it toward Penny. “We have a release for your consent to be filmed.”
Of course they did.
Nothing for me, or Drew either. I guess she wasn’t worried about us suing them.
“Oh, sure,” Penny pressed her finger to the screen and signed. Her curls bounced as she leaned over the counter, cheerful despite the ambush.
“I’m assuming you have the samples ready?” Mom asked, her tone clipped, businesslike.
“Definitely.” Penny clasped her hands together, her whole face lighting up.
“I pulled together the flavors you requested. I should mention I can’t make a multi-tier cake in time, but I can create a smaller one with one or two layers, and provide a matching sheet cake for the guests in the same flavor. ”
Good for her. Drawing a line with a smile.
Something I never seemed to manage with my family.
Celia waved her hand as though bestowing a blessing. “And I respect your time. Thank you so much for agreeing to help us out on such short notice.”
I nearly choked. Respect her time? Celia didn’t respect anyone’s time. Not mine. Not Drew’s, not Penny’s. The only time that mattered was hers.
“You’re welcome,” Penny said brightly, her smile crinkling her eyes. She glanced at me, and I tried to return her joyful look, but feared it came out stiff. “If you all want to take a seat, I’ll bring out the samples.”
Mom perched beside Celia. Drew and I sat across from them with our backs to the door. It was unsettling to watch my sister filmed like she was the star of her own reality show. Which I guess she kind of was.
The kitchen door swung open, and Penny bustled out, tray balanced on one hip.
“Okay who’s ready for sugar?” she asked in a sing-song voice.
She set the tray down with a flourish, like she was unveiling treasure.
“First up—blueberry-lemon buttermilk cake with blueberry jam. It’s basically sunshine in cake form. ”
My stomach twisted. Of course. One of my favorites.
“And once we’re done with that—strawberry champagne.” Penny’s grin widened. “Cake that flirts with you. Don’t blame me if it winks.”
My pulse stuttered. Unease curled in my belly. Another favorite.
“Then coffee cream.” She pretended to sigh. “I call this one the breakfast loophole. Cake and coffee in one bite. Totally legit.”
My throat tightened. Coffee. Another choice I’d made years ago.
“And last but not least, salted caramel and vanilla-chocolate. Our classic duo in fancy clothes. Definitely not plain.” Penny set down plates with practiced cheer, her bubbly voice like soda fizz.
Drew slid his hand into mine, squeezing. His searching gaze saw more than anyone had in a long time.
How did Celia know?
Every single flavor. Every single cake. Every single one of my sister’s choices had been mine.
I forced myself to meet my sister’s gaze across the table.
For a second, her eyes locked with mine, wide with what seemed to be triumph, before she looked away and laughed that fake little laugh again.
“They sound lovely, Penny. Just what we wanted. My sister and I used to dream about wedding cakes when we were little. I got my inspiration from that.”
Her performance was seamless, and her tone sugar-sweet for the cameras.
My anger simmering beneath my skin stuttered.
Is that all this was? I did remember us planning fake weddings, but I didn’t remember coming up with all these choices until I was older. Maybe this was all one big coincidence.
Penny’s eyes found mine. She gave me such a genuine, warm smile. I tried to smile back, but my lips trembled, and her brows pinched, like she saw straight through me.
She placed the last piece of blueberry-lemon cake in front of me with a wink. “Save room, Ellie. These cakes demand devotion.”
A laugh escaped me, shaky but real. “I’ll do my best.”
The door to the bakery flung open, and Celia squealed. “Kyle!?! Oh, my God! You made it!”
I froze as the act played out, trying to ignore the unease in my empty stomach and suddenly very glad we’d missed dinner.