Page 28 of The Secret to a Southern Wedding

She scowled. “So? I don’t want to be anyone’s token for diversity points.”

“What benefits do you get as doctor of the year?”

She opened her mouth as if she was prepared to snap back but then paused. Her brows knitted together before she answered. “The benefits are all for show. My picture goes up all over the hospital. I play spokesperson during media events, and I’m invited to a board meeting to represent staff. And there’s a parking spot.”

“Wait a second, you get all of that and you’re upset?”

“Because I don’t want to just make the hospital look good. I became a doctor to help people.”

“Then don’t just make the hospital look good. Right now, you’ve got the spotlight. If there are issues you want to bring up, then do it. Who cares about the reason they selected you? You’re already there. Take advantage of the opportunity. Who knows? Maybe you can change some things.”

“That’s sounds great, but if I go off script it’s a surefire way to get fired. The few times I tried to speak up at board meetings they shut me down or talked over me.”

“Then keep talking until they hear you. My mom used to say don’t be afraid of getting fired.”

“Why would she say that? No one wants to be fired,” she said in a dry tone.

“My mom used to say that no one always agrees with the decisions their higher-ups make. She told me to never be afraid to speak up when I see something wrong. Smart supervisors aren’t afraid to hear differing opinions. If you’re afraid to speak up and afraid of getting fired you’re more likely to turn into a yes-man.”

Imani sighed. “That sounds great, but it doesn’t always work in the real world. I’m not trying to rock the boat. I’m trying to do my job, help my patients and go home.”

He shrugged. “Then don’t complain about being doctor of the year. Show up, smile, say nothing and go home.”

She glared. “I wasn’t complaining.”

“Sounded like complaining to me.” The breeze picked up and Imani tightened her crossed arms. He pointed to the door. “Let’s go inside.”

“Fine.” She spun away and went through the door without looking back at him.

Cyril let out a grunt and rubbed his temple. “So much for playing nice,” he muttered before following her inside.

The sweet smell of baked goods greeted Imani after she entered Sweet Treats. She hadn’t been inside the bakery in years. Her mom used to always get Imani’s birthday cakes from there along with cakes for any parties or showers they’d hosted over the years. The memory of those fun times almost pulled her out of her irritation, until Cyril came in behind her.

He was so smug and sensible. Talking as if she could easily go against the hospital’s administration without consequences. He didn’t know what her job was like. She didn’t need his judgment. What really sucked was how much his words made her feel as if she were being ungrateful instead of reasonable.

Behind the counter a brunette white woman who looked vaguely familiar and a few years older than Imani smiled and greeted them. “What can I help you with today?”

Imani ignored Cyril standing next to her and smiled back. “My mom had an appointment to try different cakes.”

The woman’s eyes lit up. “Imani, hey, come on over. We’ve got the cakes ready for you to try.”

Taken aback that she knew her name, Imani gave Cyril a look but he was focused on the woman. “They’ve already picked the cakes?”

The woman nodded. “Sure did. But, Cyril, your dad insisted that you come and try the German chocolate he wants for the groom’s cake.”

Cyril laughed. “That’s because he loves your German chocolate cake.” Cyril followed the woman over to a table set up at the side of the shop.

Imani followed them. The woman, who Imani thought she went to high school with but still couldn’t remember her name, indicated they sit down at the two chairs.

“Now, I’ve set out the cakes samples they tried. Imani, your mom said to let you try the different ones and then see what you picked. She doesn’t want you to be swayed by her choice. Cyril, your dad didn’t care. He said go with the German chocolate.”

Cyril laughed and glanced over at Imani. She looked from him to the woman and then back. She felt like the odd person out in this entire conversation.

“I figured as much, Carolyn. But I’ll go along and pretend as if I have a say-so.” He winked at Imani.

Her heart flipped even though she was still mad at him from earlier. She didn’t need him giving his unsolicited advice about her job, but damn if the man didn’t have a smile that could push past her irritation. He’d taken off the black fedora he’d worn when they sat down giving her an unblocked view of his eyes and face. He pushed up the sleeves of his dark T-shirt, revealing the edges of the tattoos on his arms. Awareness sparked in her midsection which reignited her irritation. She didn’t like how much her body liked Cyril.

Carolyn went through the various types of cake samples she’d put out. There was yellow cake, lemon, angel food, pound, caramel and chocolate. After going through the rundown of cakes and leaving them with their rating cards, Carolyn walked away.

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