4. Lottie
LOTTIE
A strangled tension bounces by for a moment, right here in the ballroom of the Evergreen Manor, before Venus bubbles out a laugh, but I’ll be honest—it looks strained.
“Lottie, Carlotta”—Venus pauses to shoot the couple a look—“this is Ramildo Langford and Juliette Lovett.”
“Please call me Romeo.” The silver-haired gentleman shakes hands with Carlotta first, then me. “So nice to meet you both. Juliette and I own the original Cupid’s Confections.” He presses out a tight smile, and I catch Venus averting her eyes.
Was that a dig at her company? I mean, Cupid’s Sweet Concoctions has Cupid in it, but I’m pretty sure there are thousands of places with that name.
Despite the fact, I’m now fully aware of where the tension lies.
The heart-shaped party rages around us, and the music and the merriment grow in volume.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you both,” I say. “And your names certainly lend themselves perfectly to your business. I can see why it was such an easy decision.”
Venus lifts her shoulders as if she had other thoughts on the matter, but Juliette sheds a megawatt smile.
The stocky brunette leans in. “Oh, Lottie, you have no idea. It’s as if Romeo and I were a match made in heaven. And don’t get me started on our shared love of sweet treats.” She pats her stomach. “Sometimes I think we’re the same person.”
We all share a good-natured laugh along with her.
“So where are your tables?” I ask, looking at all three of them, but it’s Romeo who holds up a hand briefly.
“We have the entire west wall.” He points to the opposite side of the room, which, true to his word, is lined with dessert tables. “Our company has grown so much over the last few years.”
Juliette nods frantically. “And we’re in grocery stores across the nation and have a thriving website that handles thousands of dollars of sales daily.”
“Wow, I’m really impressed,” I muse, a little stunned to hear it. I’d like to consider myself in the know when it comes to news in the baking world, and I’ve heard little to nothing about them. “And what about you, Venus? Where is your table?” I cringe a little because I certainly didn’t mean to put her on the spot like that.
“I have the table next to yours. Just one,” she says, shedding a short-lived smile at the couple next to her. “My business is still relatively new.” She looks my way with a sober expression. “But I’m a big believer in pie-in-the-sky dreams. And it just so happens that mine actually involves pie.”
We all shed another quick laugh.
“Well, don’t worry, Mama,” Carlotta tells her. “Lot and I are equal opportunity snack predators when it comes to chomping our way around a room full of sugary goodies.” She leans toward the three of them. “You should see Lot go. She’s like a human black hole when it comes to anything baked, fried, or glazed.”
“Well then”—I inch back to inspect this older version of me—“I don’t think I’ve ever been called a black hole before.”
“Oh, are we name-calling here?” A woman in an emerald pantsuit jumps into our circle with a laugh. She’s tall, slim, and has shoulder-length hair that’s been dyed a dark shade of maroon, but in this low lighting, there’s a definite purple cast to it. She’s wearing black square-rimmed glasses and has the clearest light brown eyes I have ever seen. “I’m a pro at this one.”
“So am I, sis.” Carlotta holds a hand up to the woman, and they exchange a high-five. “I can name-call with the best of ’em. I don’t go to bingo on Wednesday nights just for the money, you know. That’s where I sharpen my snarky skills.”
The woman belts out a husky honk of a laugh. “Oh, hon, I hone my chops every day of the week. I don’t have time to waste.” She nods to the trio across from me. “Well, if it isn’t the couple of the hour and my favorite wallflower. Come here.” She pulls Venus in for a quick embrace and gives a friendly wave to the other two.
Juliette lifts a brow at the woman. “It looks like someone has had a tad too much love potion.”
I happen to know that the love potion they’re serving tonight is loaded with vodka, sans the one that Everett gave me. I swear there’s an ethanol haze in this room right now.
“I don’t drink.” The woman with the purple hair laughs once again. “I’m sorry.” She looks to Carlotta and me. “How very rude of me. I’m Shelly Everly. So nice to meet you both.”
“I’m Lottie,” I say, shaking her hand. “And this is Carlotta. She doesn’t have a filter.” I say that last bit in lieu of the fact she’s my mother. And for good reason. Carlotta may be my biological mother, but the mother who raised me is currently kicking it up on the dance floor. Carlotta dumped me at the Honey Hollow Fire Department when I was a newborn and never looked back. My life has been a blessing ever since. “And I have an exceptional fondness for your surname,” I tell the woman. “My oldest daughter’s name is Everly.”
Evie— Everly —is Everett’s daughter whom I adopted and have been a mother to ever since she stepped into our lives a few years back. She’s in college now, but close enough to come home on weekends, and she and her boyfriend Conner Saint are at my house right now babysitting Lyla Nell.
Evie and Lyla Nell get along so well, it’s clear they don’t care about the age gap between them. And I’m so very glad about that.
Carlotta leans back abruptly. “Who’s Everly?” she squawks. “Don’t tell me you’ve got an entire litter of Little Yippies running loose on the planet.”
“It’s Evie,” I say, swatting her on the arm before wincing at the present company. “Suffice it to say, we don’t use her formal name very often.”
Juliette nods. “Trust me, both Romeo and I understand all too well what goes into a name and how important that becomes in branding.”
Venus’ mouth falls open, and another thick silence enters our midst.
Romeo cranes his neck past me. “I think I see Caudwell by the bar,” he mutters it low as if it wasn’t for everyone’s ears.
Juliette nods up at him. “We need to make it quick. Our desserts are running low, and we need to keep them refreshed.”
He nods back before she smiles our way. “Please excuse us. It was lovely meeting you both.”
Juliette gives the other two women the side-eye. “Venus, good luck to you this evening.” She tips her head to the woman with the purple cast to her locks. “Shelly, it’s always a pleasure to be in your midst. You know you’re welcome at any time to stop into one of our stores and help yourself to whatever you like. Romeo and I are so very proud of the empire we’ve built.”
Shelly winces as the couple takes off.
And I swear I heard a little growl work its way up her throat, too.