Page 18 of Icing on the Cake

“We’re proof a shared kitchen can work. We’ve done it.” Hope stands and addresses the board.

“There are government grants directed at economic revitalization and small business initiatives,” Sage adds as murmuring threads through the crowd. “We could use crowdfunding campaigns and fundraise the money necessary.”

The chairman bangs her gavel, silencing the room. She covers the mic with her palm while the board whispers among themselves. Eisley loops her pinky finger with mine as we wait for their verdict.

“Mr. Tremaine, Ms. Holland, the board has decided to take this under consideration.” I squeeze Eisley’s pinky, hoping her efforts are rewarded. “If there are no objections, I move to table the bill currently on the table in preference to Ms. Holland’s recommendation.”

No one objects. The room erupts in applause as the meeting is adjourned.

“You did it.” I grab Eisley around the waist and lift her from her feet, spinning her as pride spreads across my chest. “You really did it.”

“We did it.” Eisley places her palms on my cheeks and mashes her lips to mine. Our kiss is fiery and sweet, an apology and triumph rolled into one. “We’re a team.”

“I love you, Eisley Holland.” I lean close to her ear and squeeze her backside. “And you’ve got nice buns.”

She giggles and it echoes through me, bouncing from my heart to my lungs, touching my soul where no one else will ever venture to go. She’s the one. My one. All that the future holds for us is just icing on the cake.

EPILOGUE

***

Eisley

Anticipation bubbles inside me. We’ve prepared for this day for months. It took some time to acquire the funds needed, but with the help of government aid, community bake sales, and an online crowdsourced fundraiser, ribbon-cutting day is here.

I glance at Beau. A glint of excitement shines in his dark eyes. His boyish dimples deepen at the corners of his mouth, and I couldn’t be happier than I am right now with him by my side.

We wield a comical, oversized pair of scissors as the crowd counts down. On one, we snip the ribbon, and a wave of applause erupts from the crowd. Their excitement envelops me like a warm embrace. My heart swells with pride at what we’ve accomplished in a few short months.

“Shall we?” Beau offers his elbow and I loop my arm through. He opens the door, and we step inside the new community kitchen. “Time for cake.”

The board allowed me the privilege to be the first to use the new kitchen for a test run. I spent hours tootling around in the space, baking cakes and cookies for today’s event. I may have gone a little overboard, overestimating the number of goodies we’d need, but I wanted everything to be perfect. And it is.

The city was able to purchase an old building near downtown with lots of room to spread out. We were able to add a few finishing touches to the project that weren’t in the original plan, like a small dining area for pop-up dinner events. There’s enough space for cookie or cake decorating classes and date night cooking sessions. The second floor houses a classroom where budding entrepreneurs can study kitchen protocols. Each detail planned to the nth degree to build community camaraderie and add money for future growth to the city’s coffers.

Hope and Sage emerge from the large walk-in fridge, carrying the tiered cake I meticulously decorated for hours. Each layer represents what’s special about our town. One tier features a fondant replica of historic downtown buildings: the foundation of our fair community. Another utilizes edible flowers and fruits from local gardens. The others incorporate school colors, mascots, and logos of some of the program’s biggest donors.

“You outdid yourself,” Beau beams at me. “It’s almost too perfect to eat.” He pauses and the glint in his eye deepens. “Almost.”

Hope removes the top tier and sets it aside. Sage cuts slices and begins filling saucers as a line forms. My stomach growls as we wait our turn in line. When it’s our turn, I reach for a plate, but Sage waves my hand away.

“Not that one.” She grins at Hope.

“We saved the best piece for you.” Hope retrieves the top tier and hands me two forks. She grins at Beau conspiratorially.

“Oh, I couldn’t.” I resist their generous offer, though I did make the top layer with my favorite strawberry filling. “This is way too much.”

“Suit yourself. I’m not turning it down.” Beau jabs the cake with his fork, throwing the plate off balance.

The plate wobbles, and I overcorrect as a surge of panic whips through me. Beau reaches for the plate and tips it instead. The cake slides off the plate, and I lurch forward to grab it. Beau’s hand smacks the cake at the exact moment I catch it from underneath. Our hands collide, crushing it. Frosting smears between my fingers as the cake crumbles in my hand.

I stare at the mess, crushed. I’d hoped everything would go smoothly today, but it’s already off to a rocky start. But something else is off. The strawberry center is missing.

“This isn’t–” I glance at Beau and the twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

“Well, that isn’t how this was supposed to go.” Beau laughs, as do others around us. “Cake mishaps seem to follow us around.”

“This was supposed to have a strawberry filling. I know I didn’t forget it when I baked it.” I stare at the plain cake, confused over the missing ingredient. Beau digs through the glob of crumbs and frosting sticking to my hands. “I don’t think you’ll find strawberries in there.”

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