Chapter Eight
CECE
“We have a problem,” CeCe hissed into her cell, leaving Jayce a third voicemail that morning.
“Have you seen the gossip websites? Do you know what they’re saying about us?
Also, the paparazzi have been camped out in the café since we opened this morning.
I feel like I’m living the Star Trek episode ‘Hide and Q’ and can’t leave the kitchen.
Call me back.” She hung up the phone, not thinking twice about her obscure television reference.
As kids, while Jayce had shared his love for Hollywood’s legendary filmmakers, introducing her to classics like Casablanca and Citizen Kane , she’d made him watch every Star Trek episode—some of them more than once.
CeCe stared at the screen, hoping for a call back, even though she knew it might be a while before she heard from Jayce, especially if he was in the middle of filming.
“Yeesh! It’s a madhouse out there.” CeCe’s assistant manager, Piper Sloane, slipped through the swinging door separating the kitchen from the main café, an empty pastry tray snug against her hip. “The pain au chocolat are completely sold out. And the kouign-amann aren’t far behind.”
“I made more.” CeCe shoved her cell phone into the back pocket of her jeans and strode to the tall twenty-tier cooling rack. Sheet pans packed with fresh-from-the-oven pastries filled the kitchen with the delicious aroma of buttery dough and caramelized sugar.
Piper stole a moment to tuck a few strands of wayward blond hair back into her loose braid. “We haven’t been this busy all summer. I don’t think I’ve been off my feet once this morning.”
“Sit. Eat something.” CeCe set the tray of pain au chocolat on the large center island and slid out a stool, feeling terrible she’d had to sequester herself.
But after last night’s ambush, she hadn’t wanted to risk another embarrassing Kodak moment and decided to sneak straight into the kitchen from her apartment upstairs.
“Tammy can handle the floor for a few minutes.”
“Thanks.” Piper perched on the stool and grabbed a pastry. “Silver lining, I guess.”
“What is?” CeCe dumped a ball of sticky dough onto the floured countertop.
“All the paparazzi. They consume three times the caffeine of our average customer. We’re making a killing today.” Piper cast her a sideways glance as she bit into the flaky crust, slowly making her way to the gooey chocolate center.
To her credit, Piper hadn’t pestered her about the paparazzi, but CeCe knew she’d seen the tabloids and had to be dying of curiosity.
“It isn’t true, by the way. The rumors about me and Jayce.
” She concentrated on rolling the dough with smooth, steady strokes, even though she could feel both cheeks heating beneath the fluorescent lights. “We’re just friends.”
“Too bad. He’s hot. And you two would make a cute couple.”
CeCe glanced up in surprise. “We would?”
“Of course. He’s all handsome and smoldering and you’re the epitome of the adorable girl next door. I would ship you two in a heartbeat.”
CeCe’s blush deepened. She enjoyed “shipping” fictional characters in books and TV, relishing the will-they-won’t-they chemistry and the sizzling sexual tension.
But she never imagined anyone would pair her and Jayce romantically.
He was a big Hollywood movie star, and she was— She glanced at the flour covering her arms and the front of her faded Galaxy Quest T-shirt.
Let’s face it, she was a stone-cold nerd—right down to the cliché wire-rimmed glasses.
Jayce could have any woman he wanted, probably one for each day of the week.
He’d never view her as anything more than a friend.
A fact he’d made abundantly clear the day he left town, leaving her alone at Lighthouse Cove.
“Well, thanks. But like I said, we’re just friends. I have no clue where the media got the ridiculous idea we’re engaged.”
“I may have a hunch.” The familiar voice sent a warm ripple down her spine. Jayce Hunt stood in her kitchen, filling the space with his larger-than-life persona. Even in jeans and a plain black T-shirt, the man oozed superstar sex appeal. Her stomach spun at the sight of him.
Starstruck, Piper froze, the last bite of pain au chocolat stuffed partway in her mouth. As she gawked, a glob of chocolate filling splattered on her apron.
CeCe felt for the poor woman, who’d obviously never seen a celebrity up close before. At least, not one this good-looking.
“Hi, Toto.” Jayce met her gaze, his expression equally affectionate and sheepish.
His use of her special for-his-lips-only nickname would make her secretly swoon under normal circumstances, but this time, her Spidey sense tingled. “Jayce Harrison Hunt, what did you do?”
He winced. “ Oof . Full name. I’m really in trouble, aren’t I?”
“That depends. Is the rumor your fault?” Determined to appear stern, CeCe folded her arms in front of her chest, even though they ached to hug him. How long had it been since they’d seen each other? Eight—no, nine months? He didn’t visit often.
“Don’t I get a hello hug first?” Jayce asked, always able to read her thoughts.
Piper coughed, choking on her pastry as she suddenly regained control of her faculties. “I’m going to, uh, give you two a minute.” She slid off the stool and awkwardly made her exit.
“New employee?” Jayce asked, watching her go.
“Yes. Her name’s Piper. I’ll introduce you later. Don’t change the subject.”
“Okay. Back to that hug we were discussing.” He flashed his most endearing smile. The one he never showed the cameras. The one he seemed to reserve only for her. “I’ve missed you, Toto.”
His sincerity weakened her defenses. “I’ve missed you, too.” She sighed, relenting to his charm. “Welcome home.”
He scooped her into a bear hug, and she melted against him, inhaling his scent.
No matter how much money he made, he still wore the same inexpensive cologne—the brand she’d bought him as a graduation present.
Starlight Storm. The fragrance resembled hints of the ocean after a midnight rain, deep and musky.
She’d hoped to remind him of what he’d left behind.
He held her a little longer than usual before returning her to the ground.
She stepped back, smiling at the flour smudges smeared across his black cotton T-shirt that probably cost more than her car.
“What?” he asked, catching her bemused expression.
“Nothing. Except that your shirt looks like a Rorschach inkblot test in reverse.”
He studied the splotches with mock seriousness, stroking his strong jawline with his thumb and forefinger, pretending to read the random shapes for hidden meaning.
“Hmm… I see the outline of my best friend in the whole world forgiving me for something foolish I did.” He glanced up, meeting her gaze with a chagrined smile.
“So, it is your fault.” She slugged him in the arm.
“Do you know they’re calling me ‘the Hollywood Hypnotist’?
They’re saying I hypnotized you into proposing.
” Well, one online blogger had made the claim.
And she’d had to dive pretty deep into the blogosphere to find the article.
But still. She wasn’t thrilled with the accusation.
“That’s crazy. If you were going to hypnotize anyone into proposing, it would be Chris Pine, not me. You’ve been in love with him ever since his role as Captain Kirk.”
Oh, if only he knew how wrong he was.
“Besides,” he added, “they’re idiots if they think you’d have to hypnotize a man into marrying you.
All you’d have to do is bat those beautiful dark eyes at him.
And if that didn’t work, you could bake him one of these.
” He reached for a pain au chocolat, but CeCe slapped his hand away, ignoring the way her skin flushed at his flattery.
“That’s not the point. This whole situation is embarrassing. The photo—”
“Is not your best,” he interjected. “But it’s one unflattering photo. It happens to everybody. Any bozo can see how gorgeous you are.”
Gorgeous? CeCe stared, caught off guard by the compliment.
She involuntarily pressed a hand to her chest, hoping to slow her racing heartbeat.
Did he really think she was gorgeous? No.
That’s absurd. Cute, maybe. But not gorgeous .
Especially not compared to the models and movie stars he mingled with every day.
“Stop trying to butter me up. I’m still mad at you. How did the rumor get started anyway?”
As she listened to Jayce’s confession, and his impulse to help out a friend, her irritation softened slightly. That was so like him—always thinking of other people.
“I messed up,” he admitted, throwing up his hands in a show of surrender. “I shouldn’t have lied or dragged you into this, and I’m sorry. I have no right to ask you for a favor, but I’m desperate, so I’m going to throw myself at your mercy. Feel free to turn me down.”
“What’s the favor?” CeCe asked cautiously, a nervous suspicion brewing in the back of her mind.
“Would you go along with the ruse? Pretty please? For a few days. Maybe a week or two, tops. Just long enough for Stacey and Rob to get married and have their honeymoon in peace. Then we can come clean or stage an amicable breakup.”
He gazed at her earnestly, looking so disarming and vulnerable, her better judgment wavered. This is a horrible idea and will end in disaster. But rather than share her concerns aloud, she said, “I won’t lie to our parents. Or our friends.”
“That’s fair. And I wouldn’t ask you to. We can tell them the truth and beg them to play along. The only people we have to convince are Gretchen and the paparazzi.”
At the mention of the vultures circling her café all morning, CeCe realized it was unusually quiet. “Wait a minute. Where are the paparazzi?”
“I asked them to leave.”
“And they listened? Just like that?”
“I may have promised each of them an exclusive interview and a press pass to our wedding.”
“Jayce!”
“Our fake wedding. You know, the one that isn’t really happening. I figured it was a fair trade for some peace and quiet.”
CeCe rolled her eyes. He always was too smooth for his own good. “You realize this scheme will most likely blow up in your face.”
“Maybe. But think about how fun our last wedding was.” His midnight-blue eyes twinkled, tempering whatever reservations she had left.
“It was pretty nice. At least that time you gave me a ring. Even if it was the twist tie off a bag of cotton candy.”
“Oh! Thanks for reminding me.” He reached into his front pocket and withdrew a tiny leather pouch. “Picked this up in Bali before my flight.”
“Bali? I thought you were in Paris.”
“That was last month.”
“Right.” She nodded along, trying not to draw the comparison between her father’s globe-trotting tendencies and Jayce’s. What was it about the men in her life and their inability to stay put?
She quieted the thought as he dropped to one knee. “Cecelia Desirée Dupree, will you do me the incredible honor of being my fake fiancée?”
Although she knew the proposal wasn’t real, her heart beat a little bit faster as he revealed a stunning crescent-shaped diamond ring that looked like the moon surrounded by a dozen glittering stars. “I—” The words caught in her throat. What was wrong with her?
“Shoot. You don’t like it.” His face fell. “Obviously, this isn’t the ring I’d give you if we really got engaged, but I tried to find one I thought you’d like.”
Wait. What did he say? What did he mean by “if we really got engaged”?
“If you wear this one for now, I’ll get you any one you want as a thank—”
“Jayce.” She extended her hand, willing her fingers to stop jittering. Get it together, CeCe. It’s pretend. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“You sure?”
“I’m positive.”
“Great.” With a look of relief, he took her hand in his.
The moment their fingers touched, her heartbeat faltered at a sudden and unexpected electrical charge.
An unreadable expression flickered across his face, as if he’d felt the same scintillating sensation that had skittered up her arm.
He cleared his throat then slid the ring onto her finger. A perfect fit.
Job done.
Why hadn’t he let go?
And why hadn’t she pulled away?
Their eyes met.
A strange current passed between them that confused and thrilled her.
In a matter of seconds, her simple, straightforward existence had become a lot more complicated.
And CeCe Dupree didn’t do complicated.