Page 10 of The Unwanted Wife

“Mmm, this is soo good, if I do say so myself.”

“It is.” Zoey picks one of the A1phah0les, and bites into the doughnut. Powdered sugar coats her lips, and her eyes widen. She chews, swallows, then stuffs the rest of it into her mouth. She makes a sound of contentment, then jumps up from her chair, walks over to me and throws her arms about my shoulders. “You’re a genius, babe. When it comes to baking, that is. When it comes to men, not so much.”

“Umm—" I cough at the backhand compliment. "Should I say thanks.”

“No, really.” She straightens, then pretends to flick a tear from her eyes. “That A1phah0le almost made me orgasm with pleasure."

The bell over the doorway tinkles as it closes behind a pink-haired woman bundled up in a coat. She responds to Zoey’s comment by saying, "Isn’t that the main reason to put up with an alphahole? The orgasms?" She beams at me. "You must be Skylar. I’m Zoey’s friend, Summer."

I rise to my feet and hold out my hand, but she repeats Zoey’s performance from a few seconds ago and throws her arms about me. I confess, the last few months, I haven’t been feeling very sociable or wanting to hug people—or be hugged. For some reason, it often makes me feel like crying—I don’t know what that’s all about. Must be the stress of trying to save my bakery. But there’s another part of me that thinks it’s nice to be embraced by my friends and their friends. "The pleasure is all mine."

“I’m so happy you made it.” Zoey claps her hands in delight.

“So am I.” Her smile widens. “This is the one time in the week that’s all mine. My husband stays home with our son, and I’m here to hang out and remember what it was like to be single and have an evening out—without having to keep an eye on my child. Not that I’d change anything, but it’s nice to be on my own for a change.” She laughs.

“Where’s Penny?” Zoey peers past Summer. “Isn’t she making it?”

“Not today. Knight surprised her with a trip to Paris. Newlyweds.” She chuckles. “Mind you, my husband did that on Valentine’s Day. He even ensured the babysitter came along with us so she could take care of our son for the night, in a separate room, and we had an entire twelve hours to ourselves. Heaven.”

The bell tinkles again, and in walks my friend Grace, who’s wearing a bright yellow coat with feathers stuck to it. She’s teamed it with fluorescent-purple platform boots that come over her knees. It should look ridiculous, but she manages to pull it off. She always manages to look striking in the most bizarre of combinations.

“Skylar!" She rushes toward me. “I’m so sorry I’m late. There was so much traffic getting in, it took me twenty minutes to cover that last mile. If I hadn’t been wearing these heels, I might have gotten out and walked.”

“When was the last time you wore flats?" I laugh.

"Umm, never?" She hugs me, and this time, I hug her back without hesitation. I'm getting back in the swing of things, despite Nate’s offer hanging over my head like a looming thundercloud.

"I wanted to leave earlier, but there was a last-minute meeting with the production team on the highlights for tomorrow’s program."

"You look like you need this." Zoey approaches us holding two glasses of white wine.

"Bless you." She snatches the glass of wine from Zoey and proceeds to down half of it before she takes in our stares. "What? I’m thirsty. And it’s been a long day, and I have to be up at the crack of dawn again tomorrow.”

"You’re working long hours," I point out.

"It’s competitive. There are a hundred others waiting to take my place as the host of the Morning Show on the leading TV channel in the country. I need to be on top of my game and ready to work harder than all of them."

"You were good this morning." Zoey raises her glass.

"Only good?" Grace sniffs.

"You were brilliant. Very confident. And you broke the news of that disaster in Argentina without breaking rhythm," I concede.

"It was tricky, but I have to admit, I almost enjoyed it." There’s a glint in her eyes. Grace really does enjoy the challenge of hosting the leading news program in the country. She loves thinking on her feet and reporting.

"You wouldn’t catch me waking up at 4 a.m. every day, not to mention getting dolled up and constantly having to perform for the cameras. And then there’s you, Skylar.” She turns to me. “You not only wake up at 4 a.m. to bake, but you’re behind the counter selling until 9 p.m.. You two have one hell of a work ethic, and I admire it. But it’s not for me.” She shakes her head. “Give me my job as a book editor any day. I prefer to hide behind my computer screen and read manuscripts from the slush pile in my downtime." Zoey laughs.

"I love that all of you have such varied professions." Summer walks over carrying the tray of the goodies I set out earlier. "It makes for such interesting conversations."

A gleam comes into Zoey’s eyes. "Speaking of, there’s one more person who invited herself over."

5

Skylar

"There is?" I look around at the small crowd.

Zoey and I met Grace a few months ago at a club after she was stood up by her date. We ended up dancing together most of the night and hung out after. And then there’s Harper. I met her when I was buying provisions for the bakery, and we hit it off right away.

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