19. Aubrey
Sending Clint home this morning left me with an ache inside that I couldn’t name. It wasn’t like I’d sent him away for good, and it wasn’t as if he could stay.
If I had to guess, it was probably because the sex last night was incredible. Brodie and I had conversations that hot, but living it was different.
And so, so good.
After Clint left, while I was opening my shop, Sylvie called.
When I saw her name on my phone, I grasped at the thoughts I needed to talk about Peter without pissing her off, and answered. “Hey.”
“Hello.” Sylvie’s greeting was bright and warm.
Good. That was the perfect intro for me to slide into let’s talk. I opened my mouth.
“Aunt Neva has a friend who makes wedding cakes.” Sylvie launched into things before I could. “They’re heading up there, to help me pick flavors and colors, and I want a bunch of people there to help me decide.”
“A bunch?” I could probably gather a large portion of the town, especially if there was free cake testing. I doubted that was what she actually wanted though.
“You know. Like, your friends. Call them. Have them come over.”
Up to this point, I hadn’t minded accommodating most of her requests, but when she made decisions about other people and their schedules, I wasn’t as willing to go along without an argument. “My friends work during the day.”
Sylvie huffed.
“Like you used to.” I wanted to do this more nicely, but if this was my opening, I’d take it. “Why did you quit your job, Sylvie?”
“Can we talk about that in person?”
I wanted answers, but she was right it wasn’t a conversation to have over the phone. “Promise me. If you’re coming up here, we’re going to talk. Give me your word, Sylvie.”
“I promise. And the cake tasting would be this evening, after five. Does that work?”
If it got her here, especially without Peter, I could agree. “Just us girls? No guys?”
“Umm…”
“Then again, if we invite the men, they can get to know Peter.” It bothered me that I used that as a negotiating tactic.
Especially when Sylvie said, “No boys, then.”
“Do you need me to come pick you up?” I asked.
“No. Grandma rented me a car, so I could run my errands.”
This kept getting weirder. It wasn’t that I needed every detail of my sister’s life. She was an adult, she could do for herself. Except that since she’d been here, most of her behavior had been out of character. “Why didn’t you rent your own car?”
“You’re the best sister. Top two. See you this afternoon.” Sylvie hung up.
I sent a text to our Nerd Herd group chat, which had doubled in size in the last few months.
Not that four was a huge number, but Alys, Evie, Ravyn, and Elaina were safe. They kept secrets. They didn’t judge. I adored them. The message said Wedding cake testing. My place. Five. We’re helping Sylvie pick a flavor.
The assortment of yays and okays came back quickly.
Alys: Maddox wants to come.
Me: Girls only tonight.
Alys: He says we can paint his nails if we let him come.
I laughed in my empty store.
Me: He lets me paint his nails anyway. That doesn’t make him a girl. If there are leftovers, we’ll get Sylvie to let you take them home. That seemed fair.
Alys: Maddox says he loves you, but not as much as me or Onyx or cake.
Maddox loved anyone who fed him, but I appreciated the sentiment.
Ravyn: Is this a polite company kind of gathering?
Me: Have you met the rest of us?
I couldn’t imagine the group of us behaving for nearly long enough to be considered polite company.
Ravyn: I haven’t met this cake person. I’m down for free food, but I need to know if I’m expected to hold my tongue. I won’t—you’ve been warned—but I like to know if I’m expected to.
That was fine. She’d do great with my family. Maybe not Aunt Neva, but I was willing to ruffle those feathers.
Me: My family knows I’m a godless heathen, and my aunt is already scandalized by me.
Evie: None of us will be on our best behavior.
Ravyn: Perfect. ;*
Everyone else signed off as well, so we could get back to work. I spent the next several hours helping customers. One of the things I loved about my job was helping someone put together the perfect look, either for historical accuracy, or just because they loved a style and needed something that complimented their build and coloring.
This was one of the reasons I’d been happy to help Sylvie with her wedding dress—there was a creativity behind mixing and matching, and with vintage styles, the possibilities were endless.
Sylvie arrived about an hour early, to help me set up. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her makeup looked freshly applied.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
Sylvie brushed past me and headed toward my back room. “Where do you keep those folding chairs?”
She knew where, because they were out in the open leaning against a wall. I followed her. “We need to talk.”
“We need to get set up. Everyone else will be here soon.” In my back room, Sylvie headed for the folding table I kept stashed away, rather than the chairs.
Even if I couldn’t force her to talk to me, I needed to do something. I grabbed her arm and pulled her into a hug.
Her entire frame went stiff as a board. Then she seemed to deflate and sag against me with a sigh.
“What’s wrong?” I asked softly.
“I had a fight with Peter. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is if he made you cry.”
“I overreacted.”
Damn it, Sylvie, you know better than this. I swallowed a frustrated retort that wouldn’t do either of us any good. “Why did you quit your job?”
“Peter told you why.” Sylvie pulled away from me and headed for the table again.
I helped her wrangle the thing into a good spot near one side of the back room. We flipped out the legs, slid the locks in place, and up righted the furniture. “I’d like you to tell me.”
Sylvie spared me half a second of withering look, then went to grab two folding chairs. “The job wasn’t what I really wanted,” she said over her shoulder. ”I want a family. Kids. An awesome husband. To stay at home and raise them and make them happy and see them succeed.”
Did she sound like she was reading from a script, or was I imagining it? I joined her, setting up chairs around a second, smaller table that was already standing. When she moved to walk away, I blocked her path. “Look me in the eye and promise me that’s true.”
“Of course it’s fucking true.” Sylvie sighed and rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t give up an incredible, lucrative career that I lov— worked super hard to earn for more than a decade— It’s true. I wanted more than work was giving me.”
This time I distinctly heard anger and bitterness, and I was going to call her on it.
“Hello.” Neva’s voice carried to us.
Sylvie pasted on the biggest, brightest smile in the history of fake smiles. “We’re here.” She waved. “So happy you made it.”
I adopted my own smile and faced the new arrivals. “Hey. Welcome.”
Neva introduced us to Risa, the baker, who assured us this space was perfect. The four of us headed toward one of the parking spots in front of my shop, to bring in cake samples.
As Neva and Risa walked out, Sylvie stopped me. “I’m fine,” she said in a low voice. “This is what I want. I want this, with Peter. It’s sweet of you to worry, but this is what I want for me.”
“Okay.”
The repeated variations of what I want didn’t reassure me, but if Sylvie wasn’t willing to talk to me, the only thing I could do was be here if it all fell apart. I wanted desperately to protect her from that, but I was going to have to wait it out.
We arranged everything the way Risa asked us to.
Neva glanced at me when we were done, then took a longer look.
I didn’t know if it was the low cut of the button-down blouse that drew her eye, or the short cap sleeves that left both arms of tattoos on display, but the displeasure she radiated didn’t surprise me.
She shook her head and turned away. “At least if you spill, it’ll be hard to tell on top of all that ink.”
I swallowed a retort. “At least.”
A short while later, my friends arrived. Ravyn first, offering to help, and looking disappointed that we were done. Then Evie and Alys, and Elaina last.
“I’m so sorry. Night shift guy showed up late, both for me and Rohde.”
Rohde was her brother. Elaina lost her husband just a few years ago. Her son, Kurt, was Dee’s age, and all of us helped watch him when she needed, but he spent the most time with Rohde. And these days, Sawyer, one of Evie’s boyfriends.
I didn’t know how Evie and Alys each managed being with two men. I was only pretending, and it was hard to keep track of. Then again, each of my friends wanted to be in their relationships, and their guys got along—loved each other even.
I could only take so much of Clint and Brodie fighting over me. And I definitely couldn’t see myself with either of them long term, let alone both.
Nope. Not even for a second. I had what I wanted out of life. I didn’t need anything else.
Sylvie and I introduced everyone who didn’t know each other, and my friends sat around the smaller table, with Sylvie and me.
Risa pulled the first box from her stack, and she and Neva started dishing small slices onto paper plates. “We see two issues again and again,” Risa said. “People tend to remember their first or last piece the most distinctly. So at the end, when we ask people to pick their favorite cake slice, the flavors in the middle were rarely being picked, and there were always arguments.”
As she talked, Neva placed a slice of pale cake with a yellow gel on it in front of each of us, along with an index card that had a series of checkboxes.
“Ooh, a test.” Evie sounded pleased.
Ravyn huffed. “I didn’t study. I thought tonight was the cramming.”
A few of us snickered, and she looked around, eyes wide. “What? Like cramming the cake in our faces.”
“Sure. That’s what you meant,” Elaina teased.
Ravyn’s innocent look stayed fixed. “What else would it mean?”
Neva scowled.
Risa smirked. “This is how I solved both problems, at least a little. On the cards, you’ll see a few questions asking for your opinion. No studying needed, and no wrong answers.”
Evie huffed and crossed her arms, but her smile showed through.
“For each question, you think about the cake you just had, and answer on a scale of one to five. Five is the best. At the end, I tally up all the scores, and we have our winner… with the bride’s right at final say, of course.”
“Of course,” Alys said.
We all dug into the tiny squares of lemon cake. Our voting options were to give an overall score, and individual scores for icing, cake flavor, balance between the two, and would we eat another slice right away.
Evie nudged her cake aside without taking a bite. “I’m sure you’re an incredible baker, and I’m excited for the other flavors, but lemon doesn’t go in cake.”
“Freak.” At least, that was what it sounded like Alys said with a mouthful of cake.
“More for us.” Elaina grinned.
Evie shrugged. “At least I like cream cheese frosting, which is normal for cake.” She gave Alys a pointed and exaggerated glare.
Alys finished her bite. “In other words, you’re twice the freak.” She grabbed Evie’s cake and ate that, too.
The teasing was all light and good natured, and none of it surprised me. It was impossible to be friends with people for as long as I’d known Alys and Evie, and not have at least a little idea of what kind of cake they liked. We ranked the lemon and handed the cards back, and Elaina gathered our plates into a neat pile in the middle of the table.
“Next up, I’ll assume Alys doesn’t want to try the red velvet with cream cheese frosting,” Risa and Neva dished out the new slices.
Alys wrinkled her nose. “I will pass, yes.”
“Glazed is more her style,” I teased.
A wave of snickers rolled around the table, and Alys blew me a kiss. “You’d know.”
I pretended to snatch the kiss out of mid-air, then rub it all over my face.
Neva huffed her disapproval.
Sylvie sighed loudly, but the corners of her mouth were threatening to tug up. “Red velvet isn’t going to work great with the colors I’ve picked.”
Risa gave her a surprised look. “Peter called me earlier, and said you wanted it added to the list.”
“Oh. Okay.” Like that, Sylvie’s expression went blank.
Ravyn took her slice and poked at it. “What is that, Sylvie? Oh? If you don’t want red velvet, veto it now.”
“What Ravyn said.” Evie chimed in. “It’s your wedding. You get a vote.”
“So does Peter.” Sylvie’s voice went hard. “We should at least taste it.”
Alys opened her mouth.
“It’s not a big deal. If you don’t like cream cheese frosting, don’t try it.” Sylvie talked over her.
Elaina shot me a raised eyebrow look while Sylvie was turned away.
I shrugged. As much as I hated seeing Sylvie act like this, I had her back. I had to go by what she said she wanted.
“Did you decide on a dress yet?” Alys asked as the rest of us ate cake.
I said, yes at the same time Sylvie said no, and more surprised looks made their way round the table.
I gave Sylvie a what the fuck look.
“Grandma wants me to keep looking,” she said.
Since when did Sylvie not make the final decision about everything in her life? And how was what should have been a slam dunk of a fun girl’s night out going downhill so quickly?
We all placed our votes on the red velvet, and I noticed I wasn’t the only one who downvoted it on every line.
“You probably have all of these in a specific order, but can we do devil’s food cake next?” I asked. Everyone here loved chocolate, and it was Sylvie’s favorite. That should bring the conversation back on track and make things fun again.
“I…” Risa frowned. “There’s no devil’s food cake. Peter said…”
“I asked him to.” Sylvie’s voice was too sharp. Too bright. “I was busy, so I had him call and update tonight’s cake order.”
When we were kids, any time there was devil’s food cake in the house, Sylvie would sneak as much as she could. She always got it all over herself, and never managed to hide what she’d been up to. Even just a few months ago, her social media was filled with pictures of the bakery she’d found in Seattle that had the best ever cake. Devil’s food cake.
This wasn’t right.
Evie was helping Elaina collect and stack our plates, into what was becoming a crumb-laden sculpture. Alys swiped her hand across Evie’s path, knocking uneaten red velvet into my lap, and sending red crumbs and cream cheese frosting everywhere.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Alys looked horrified.
Sylvie growled.
Evie grabbed the fallen plate, swallowing a grin.
Ravyn and Elaina didn’t look surprised. They saw the same not-accidental move I had, from Alys.
I scowled at my lap. “I know you didn’t want to try the cake, but really, Alys?” I had to work to push any irritation into my voice.
“I’m so sorry. Fuck fuck fuck.” Alys grabbed a wad of napkins and smeared the frosting, making it look worse. “I ruined your shirt. Let me help you clean it up.”
“Good idea.” I grabbed her wrist, and we headed toward the bathroom. The instant we were inside, I closed the door, and turned on the water full blast. We each wetted paper napkins and dabbed away frosting and cake that hadn’t done any damage at all to my clothes.
“What’s going on with Sylvie?” Alys asked.
I knew I wasn’t imagining the weird behavior, but it was still confirmation hearing that others were seeing it too. “I wish I knew. She just keeps telling me she’s fine and this is what she wants.”
“So her fiancé is an asshole?”
“Did you hear that from someone?” I asked.
“From Sylvie. Just now.” Alys took my paper towel, wadded it up with hers, and threw both away.
I kept the water running, and grabbed a few more sheets of paper to dry my top and capris. “If she doesn’t want to talk, if she keeps telling me she’s fine, what else am I supposed to do?”
Before Alys and I dated, then became friends, she was in a bad relationship with a guy who Peter reminded me of. Don nearly destroyed her, but she’d been healing. Maddox and Onyx helped a lot.
“Nothing you can do but be there when she’s ready.” Alys didn’t look happy saying the words.
That was what I was afraid of. “Help me keep things out there from deteriorating?”
“I’d rather push her toward realizing she’s engaged to a narcissist control freak who doesn’t give a shit about her unless she’s worshiping him.” Alys may be projecting from her own experiences, but that didn’t mean she was wrong.
It also didn’t mean her plan would do us any good.
“I know.” She sighed. “If she’s not ready to accept it… Fine, I’ll help you, if you promise to keep nudging her.”
“You already know I will.”
“I do, and I’ll help with that, too. I promise to try to be subtle.”
There was a knock, and Evie pushed the door open without waiting for an answer. “Are you two making out, or can I join in?”
“You can always join us when we’re making out.” Alys yanked her into the room.
Evie laughed. “Are we going to lighten the mood out there?”
“If we can,” I said. “Talk about anything but the wedding.”
Evie made a grumble-sigh noise. She was on the same page we were.
“I know.” I didn’t have anything better to say. I shut off the water, and the three of us rejoined the group.
“Everything all right?” Elaina asked as we took our seats.
I showed off my shirt, which had a damp spot but no stains. “Good as used.”
The comment earned me a stuttered response of strained laughs.
“Are we ready for the next slice?” Neva sounded irritated.
Though, she frequently did.
We all said yes, and the vanilla was handed out.
Ravyn paused with her fork halfway to her sample. “Isn’t anyone going to say they have a problem with vanilla?”
Bless her.
“It’s my favorite.” Elaina was enthusiastic.
Several of us giggled, more genuinely this time, and pink spread across Eliana’s cheeks. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Until I can get my cake in bright red a—” I realized what I was about to say and how bad it sounded, and snapped my mouth shut. That didn’t stop memories from last night from flooding into my mind.
“You were going to say bright red ass flavored,” Evie said.
Alys tasted her cake. “Thankfully, you figured out how that sounded, and none of us had to hear that phrase.” She gave Evie a pointed look.
“I figured most of you would be into something more like tres leches.” Elaina bit her bottom lip.
Ravyn snorted.
“I’m not touching that.” I emphasized my point by eating some of my cake.
“She totally would. And she’d get it all over her face,” Evie said.
Sylvie was almost smiling. “Aubrey’s always been messy when it comes to cream.”
I’d be pleased she was joining in, but I was too busy torn between here and thinking about last night.
Risa was laughing with us, and Neva wasn’t pleased.
It wasn’t that I enjoyed pissing off my aunt, but the payback for her passive aggressive comments about my clothing and tattoos was nice.
The evening got better, and my friends skillfully kept the conversation away from the wedding—an incredible feat considering we were sampling wedding cake. When we were done, Risa promised to call Sylvie directly with the poll results, so she could have the final say. Everyone helped clean up.
Risa boxed the leftovers up and handed them to Alys.
“My boyfriend wants me to tell you that you’re best and he loves you,” Alys said.
“I…” Risa’s eyes darted away from Alys’s face.
Alys grinned. “He loves everyone who makes him cake. He’s just that kind of guy.”
“Okay.” Risa’s smile was hesitant. “Then tell him… thank you and he’s welcome.”
Everyone said Good Night and headed out, including Sylvie who gave me a quick hug and thanked me.
Neva lingered as Risa was putting the last box in her car.
I braced myself for a lecture.
“I heard from Grandma that you’re engaged. Congratulations,” Neva said.
Was this that simple?” Thanks. I’m trying not to make a big deal out of it while we’re planning Sylvie’s wedding.”
“What’s his name? What does he do?” Neva sounded genuinely interested.
Which made me suspicious. “Brodie is in textiles. He owns his own company.”
“Huh.” Neva’s pause stretched on too long to be comfortable. “Who’s Clint?”
My blood ran cold, but I kept the reaction from my face. “A guy in town.” Why? I wouldn’t ask. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of caring why she wanted to know.
“Did you know that all of our family insurance policies cross my desk when they’re updated? Just to make sure everything is on the up and up?”
That was a thing? How the fuck did I forget that Neva was one of the relatives who worked there? “Huh. Interesting.” I was too frozen to sound anything other than bland.
“Does your fiancé know you got married just a few weeks ago?” Neva asked.
No, no, no, no, no. I couldn’t let her cancel my policy. Clint and Dee needed this. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “If a marriage had to be perfect for a policy to be valid, you’d lose ninety percent of your customers.”
Neva smiled. “I don’t care what you’re doing or why, but you owe me for keeping your secret.”
“Owe you what?” I’d agree to a lot, to keep Dee healthy.
“I don’t know yet, but when I figure it out, you’ll know too.”
Sickness rolled inside, carried on too much cake and a night of stress. I forced a smile. “Sounds good. Have a wonderful night.”