Chapter Thirteen
“This is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever put in my mouth, and that means a lot coming from me.” Lola rinsed the taste away with another glass of champagne. “Someone tell me who the hell thought lavender was a good cake flavor?”
“It’s on trend, apparently.” I sipped the free champagne. “Yvonne Kennedy had it at her daughter’s christening. Since then, it’s all the rage.”
“Just because some big social media star wants to poison her tastebuds doesn’t mean everyone else has to.”
It was only a week until the wedding party. Olivia had gone above and beyond; she definitely became someone I came to rely on. The woman was like my personal genie. She somehow managed to make every request happen, no matter what I asked.
She secured us a last-minute appointment with La petite boulangerie, which only furthered my suspicion that she was a magical being. No one got a last-minute appointment there. They were always booked two to three years in advance. That was if the owner even granted you an appointment. She was notoriously particular about the clients she catered to.
Jaxon and I hadn’t seen each other since the night Flynn got arrested, with him being called back to Ontario to deal with something urgent that needed both Dade brothers in attendance.
Before he left, though he didn’t verbally agree to my suggestion of at least trying to be friends, he did leave a note explaining his impromptu departure.
Beside the note was a single olive branch.
He was willing to try.
The gesture left me grinning like a blushing schoolgirl.
That was until he dropped off the very face of the planet. While he was gone, I heard nothing from him. Not a single text message or email to let me know when he was coming back—if he was coming back.
In the spirit of attempting a friendship, I messaged him nearly every day.
He ghosted every single message I sent.
The stress of planning a large-scale event without him, mixed with my father’s ever-increasing decline in health, was starting to take its toll. If not for Olivia, Lola, and Violet, I was pretty sure I’d have called the whole thing off.
Lola pushed a slice of lavender cake toward me. “Be warned, it tastes like an old woman’s wardrobe.”
I laughed. “Lavender is meant to be calming, you know.” I placed a forkful of the cake into my mouth. My nose scrunched at the strange taste. It wasn’t revolting, but it wasn’t nice either. “The lemon meringue wasn’t too bad.”
“Oh, yes, that’s what everyone wants on their wedding-day-party-event-thing—a cake that was just fine.” Lola rolled her eyes. “You don’t even like cake, Evie. Why not have a table of doughnuts, instead? I saw pictures from an event where they had their very own doughnut wall instead of a champagne one. It was gorgeous. That sort of thing has you written all over it.”
“That was sort of my original plan.” Much to Olivia’s horror. When I pitched the idea to her, she acted like I was trying to serve the guests raw pig feet. “But when Dad heard that I wasn’t having a cake, he thought I was joking. He said that there must be a wedding cake.”
Heavens knew why he was so adamant on the notion of four tiers of frosting.
It was easier to appease him and assure him that I would have a wedding cake. Whatever it took to stop him from raising his own blood pressure over a solvable problem.
“So, you’re doing this for your dad?” She kinked her eyebrow.
“It’s only a cake.” I shrugged. “It’s doubtful I will even get a chance to eat any at the party. They do say most brides and grooms don’t get to taste their own wedding cake.”
Lola hummed unconvincingly.
“This is all for my dad, remember?” I drained my glass. “He wants to celebrate with me, with us. With his illness…” The oh-so-familiar wedge formed in my throat. “If he wants a cake, then he can have all the cake he desires.”
“What about Jaxon? Does he want a wedding cake, or is he completely leaving all this up to you and your dad?”
I shrugged. “Never got the chance to ask him before he left. He’s aware of today’s appointment.” I had created a shared calendar and emailed it to him. That way, we could keep track of our schedules, not that Jaxon bothered putting anything on it. “If he wanted a choice, he very easily could have sent me a message or bothered to be physically here.”
The blonde beside me pressed her lips into a pout. “Trust me, I am not complaining. After all, I get to eat all this forbidden food.” She scooped another piece of cake onto her fork. “If my sister saw me right now, she’d have a fit. No carbs, no trans-fats, no bloody fun more like it.”
Lola’s manager, Lilly, was also her older sister. I didn’t know how the two of them did it, working so closely together and never falling out. Well, not majorly falling out. The two bickered like any other sibling, but Lilly respected Lola’s talent on the ice, and in return, Lola appreciated and respected Lilly’s position as her manager.
There wasn’t a chance in hell that Flynn and I would have the same working relationship. We were likely to kill each other within the first twenty-four hours. His laid back and don’t give a shit about work attitude did not blend well with my people pleasing and perfectionism.
“Have you heard from Lilly?” I accepted the refill of champagne, enjoying the warm buzz of the bubbles. “Is she still in Europe?”
I purposely avoided mentioning Mickey when I knew for a fact that Lilly was still away and trying to do damage control. A tabloid, hellbent on ruining Mickey’s reputation, recently turned their focus on Lola. They were publishing absolute garbage about her and Mickey’s relationship, trying to smear her name alongside his.
It was a trashy gossip tabloid, one that many knew not to take seriously, but it still didn’t lessen the sting for Lola.
“She’s hoping to be back for your party,” Lola said between mouthfuls. “Dad has already warned her that if she isn’t home for Mom’s birthday next month, he’ll fly over to Holland himself and get her.”
The day Lola’s father got on a plane was the same day it rained lemons. Harry Juniper had never left the state of Kansas, never mind got on a plane.
“Speaking of home,” Lola said. “Now that you’re married and all, does that mean you won’t be coming to spend Thanksgiving with us anymore?”
“Hell to the no.” I shook my head. “Why would me being married stop me from coming and spending time with your family? Do you think I am going to miss a chance of getting a slice of your dad’s pecan pie? Plus, I have to defend my reigning championship in the annual pumpkin toss.”
“You cheated last year. I know it and so does everyone else.”
I popped a piece of red velvet into my mouth. “Prove it.”
She laughed. “Whatever, we all know the truth. I guess we’ll just have to set another place setting for your husband… gosh, that still sounds so fucking bizarre. Your husband. Your husband. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to saying that.”
Bizarre for her and she wasn’t the one wearing a wedding ring.
My entire life had been flipped upside down and twisted into something I no longer recognized.
“Has it gotten any better between the two of you?” Lola finished her glass, nibbling at a piece of frosting.
“Only time will tell.” I exhaled. “Neither of us wanted this.” His brother had a lot to fucking answer for. “If Jaxon was willing to be open and meet me halfway, I feel like we’d have a chance of being civil with each other.”
“He’ll come to his senses, if not, I can always threaten him with an ice skate. Those suckers are sharp.” She turned back to the cakes. “You’re going to have to pick a flavor. Go simple. Salted caramel or chocolate, they are always crowd favorites.”
“I hate chocolate cake.” I grimaced. “Chocolate by itself, yes. Why ruin it by infusing it with cake?”
Lola rolled her eyes. “You, my beautiful friend, are a freak. It seriously concerns me that you don’t like cake, especially chocolate. Chocolate cake is bliss.” She scooped frosting from a slice and sucked it off her finger. “Better yet, what flavor does Jaxon hate—we can order that.”
“Personally, I’m not a fan of cake either.”
We both nearly broke our necks looking behind us.
There in his monochrome glory was Jaxon.
Moisture vanished from my mouth. His creaseless shirt’s collar laid open, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, giving us the perfect view of his inked thick arms.
In his hands were two to-go cups.
“I thought you had business to deal with in Ontario?” I tried to sound unfazed at his sudden appearance, and the strange rush of heat between my legs as my traitorous mind remembered exactly where beneath his shirt he was tattooed. “When I didn’t hear anything from you, I assumed you weren’t coming home yet.”
“I didn’t know it was required of me to check in with you.”
“Of course you didn’t,” I scoffed. “It’s not like we live together or are, I don’t know.. married.”
“Did you need something from me while I was gone? I left your copy of the Amex for all the event planning. Benny also was here if you needed a driver or security. I gave you his number. If there was something else, you could have easily got in contact with me.”
“I messaged you. Several times without a single acknowledgement.” I rolled my eyes at his lack of response. “The point is, Jaxon, it’d be nice for you to keep me in the loop. I’m not asking for a full run-down of your day-by-day itineraries, just basic things like when you will and won’t be home.”
“I don’t see how that’s necessary.”
It was like pulling blood from a damn stone. “Because I’m your wife, Jaxon. We’re about to announce it to the whole fucking world. We’re days away from everyone knowing that we legally tied ourselves to each other. I think it might be a little bit of common courtesy for you to just let me know where you are in the world and when you’ll be home so whenever someone asks me, I don’t look like an idiot who doesn’t have a clue about the man I married.”
He didn’t say anything, remaining standing in a frozen position with a mix of a scowl and confusion written all over his face.
“It’s called respect,” I seethed. “It goes both ways.”
Lola cleared her throat. “I’m going to nip to the bathroom, leave you two to catch up.” She practically ran from the table.
Coward.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were flying back?”
“You put the appointment into the shared calendar.” He slid into the chair beside me, setting one of the cups in front of me. “I’d have been here on time, but you know how Manhattan traffic is.”
“What about the other appointments? You didn’t attend the one three days ago about flowers. Or the one about a gift register.” I didn’t touch the cup or react when he rested his arm on the back of my chair. His warm skin breaths from the back of my neck. “It doesn’t require a lot of effort to send a simple text message and let me know that you’ve decided this appointment is worth attending.”
“Evelyn,” he said lowly. “I had unavoidable business to attend to.”
“Almost a week ago!” I exclaimed. Thankfully, the bakery was empty, with Olivia being the savior she was and securing a private appointment. “I get that you don’t want to do this, Jaxon, but you can’t just decide to pick and choose when you want to be involved. That’s not fair.”
His jaw flexed before he silently nodded. “You’re right. I originally anticipated only being away for a day, but something else came up.” He ran a finger along the rim of his cup. “In the future, I’ll be open to keeping you informed when I’ll be gone and for how long.”
It was a small breakthrough, but it felt so much bigger.
“Is everything okay with the company?” I tilted my head, trying to get a read on him. He was an enigma of frowns and scowls. “Anything I should be aware of?”
“It wasn’t company-related,” Jaxon said flatly. “Nothing that couldn’t be handled.”
His tone was final, a closed book and one I didn’t wish to pry open. If he’d flown back to Ontario and it wasn’t business-related, then it was a safe guess that the problem was family-orientated.
“Like I said, the traffic was merde,” Jaxon said. “Apologies if your coffee is cold.”
I lifted the cup. “You brought me coffee?”
“Creamer and an obscene amount of sugar, non?”
“Enough to make my dentist hate me.” Sipping the sugary goodness, I tried to ignore the sudden jump in my pulse at his kind gesture. I was mad at him, and no amount of coffee was going to change that, right? “Thank you for the drink, and for coming. I honestly thought you didn’t want to have anything to do with all this.”
A flicker of a smile. “You’re right, I didn’t want to have anything to do with this.” He turned, our knees knocking together. “I was still in half a mind about this whole charade you wish to portray. But you’re right.”
“About what?”
“If we are to do this, be married for a year,” he said, a single fingertip touching the base of my neck. “Then it wouldn’t hurt to try and come to some sort of understanding. As you said, make the best out of our situation.”
His gaze dropped to my throat as I audibly swallowed. “You’re willing to try?”
The tip of his tongue traced the seam of his lips. “Like I said before, if you want love and romance, that is not what this marriage is about. Business first and foremost, that’s what was agreed.” He kept his voice level. “But a friendship, a mutual respect for each other—that I am willing to try.”
No point in my life did I think I would marry a man for any other reason than love.
Marrying Jaxon was an obligation to keeping my father’s business and legacy alive.
Maybe one day, when this was all over between us, I’d have a chance of finding the love I wanted.
The love I deserved.
“So, friends?” I offered him my hand.
Warmth encased my fingers as he took my hand. The pad of his thumb caressed each one of my knuckles. “Here’s to being friends, douceur.” I gasped lightly when he brought my hand to his mouth, lips making contact with my flesh. Goosebumps burst into life up along my exposed arms, drawing out a breathy chuckle from Jaxon.
I could be friends with my husband. That wasn’t so difficult, right?