Page 137 of The Flirt

"What do you mean? You just said it's an emergency."

"Yeah, wrong choice of words. But then again, I am sleep-deprived."

"Are you messing with me?"

"No. I need a king cake. Today. As soon as possible."

"Fucking hell. Are you serious? That's your emergency?"

"Yes," I said as seriously as I could muster.

"For Scarlett?"

"Yes.”

"You messed up?"

I stopped in the act of picking up the whisk to keep working on the batter. "How did you reach that conclusion?"

"You first got her a cake to get in her pants."

"Beckett!"

"Fine—in her good graces. And now you clearly need it to do the same job again."

"Yes,” I admitted. "But with one difference."

"Which is?"

"I'm going to discuss that with your pastry chef."

Beckett burst out laughing. "Well, you know what? I'm up for anything." That was my brother to a T. "And if you want to take this off my hands, then by all means, I'll ask my assistant to forward you the pastry chef's number. She'll tell her to expect a call from you. Knock yourself out. And good luck with whatever it is you’re planning."

"Thanks. I'm going to need it."

"Is this a ‘go big or go home’ kind of strategy?" he asked me.

“You know it.”

I was definitely going all out with this plan.

There was one more thing I had to do: wake Bella up.

She and I were going shopping.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Scarlett

I woke up with a headache the morning after the competition. No surprise, considering I'd probably fallen asleep around 3:00 a.m. Even then, I was restless. I practically crawled to the kitchen to make myself the first coffee of the day.

I had a lump in my throat. I'd planned on waking up early today before Bella and Chad and cook breakfast for the two of them. Instead, I was here in my tiny kitchen.

God, I needed to talk about last night with someone or my brain would explode. I needed Ariana.

She was an early bird, but it was Saturday. I didn't want to startle her, so I sent her a quick text message.

Scarlett: Hey, are you up? Call me when you can.

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