Page 3 of Dark Christmas

I check my watch, it’s a little before opening, but she’s got that look that says this is more than just an early breakfast run. I wipe my hands on my apron and gesture for them to head to the frontdoor.

I crack the door open with a grin. “Wow, you must really need your caffeine and muffin fix this morning.”

Mrs. Anderson barrels inside and pulls me into a tight hug. I stand there, totally caught off guard, my arms awkwardly sticking out.

“Uh… what’s this about?” I ask, laughing as I pat her back.

She pulls away, beaming. “It’s for that cake you and Claire made for Cynthia’s wedding shower!” she gushes. “It was absolutely stunning. You girls outdid yourselves!”

Cynthia, her daughter, nods enthusiastically, her designer bag slung over her shoulder. “Seriously, Amelia, it was the talk of the shower. Everyone was obsessed. I had to remind people to stop taking pictures and to actuallyeatit.”

“Well, I’m glad it was a hit,” I say.

“Yes, in fact, it went over so well, we want you to make the wedding cake, too!”

“Wow, really?” I reply, both surprised and flattered.

“Yes, really. We want something truly spectacular,” Mrs. Anderson says. Cynthia nods excitedly. “We’re going all-out.”

Internally, I’m throwing a full-blown party. Wedding cakes are no joke, and landing this one is huge. “I’m sure Claire will be on board,” I say, keeping my voice calm despite my excitement. “But I’ll talk it over with her once she’s done in the office.”

“Perfect! We can’t wait to see what you come up with,” Cynthia says as they grab a couple of scones from the display.

I ring them up, watching them head out with a wave before going to the office and telling Claire the good news.

Chapter 3

Amelia

“We’re low on eggs, we need more butter, and I’ve gotta call Tony later about the sugar order—he shorted us last time. Oh, and don’t forget, we need to double-check the yeast inventory before the Thanksgiving rush hits.”

Claire pops out of the office, rattling off supply info like she’s running a board meeting rather than a bakery.

I blink at her. “How do you do that? You’re like a human calculator.”

She shrugs like it’s no big deal, and that’s when I notice she’s lugging two huge bags of flour. My jaw drops, and I rush over, easing the bags out of her arms before she can even think about protesting.

“C, what the hell? You’re about to pop and you’re out here playing Hulk with these flour bags? You’re lucky I don’t call David and snitch.”

She rolls her eyes but gives me a grateful smile. “I’m fine, I swear. But thanks, Mama Bear. I guess you do need to keep mein check.”

“Damn right I do,” I say, putting the flour down. “No heavy lifting, got it? I don’t care if you feel like Wonder Woman.”

We head to the front, and Claire takes a moment to admire the pastry displays. “These look so good, Amelia. People are gonna lose their minds.”

I can’t help but grin. “Right? I mean, if they don’t, they’ve got no taste.”

We both laugh at the pun.

“So, who was here earlier?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

I lean against the counter, casually dropping the bomb. “Oh, just Mrs. Anderson and Cynthia… they want us to make the wedding cake.”

Claire’s eyes grow wide. “Wait, the wedding cake? That’s huge! A job like that could cover our expenses for a month, maybe two. You know money is no object for them.”

“I know.” I say, grinning. “We’re talking a fancy multitier cake with all the bells and whistles. It’s exciting, thinking about how much the business is really starting to take off.”

Claire nods, her eyes gleaming with that ambitious fire she’s always had. “Yeah, but we have to keep growing. Can’t get too comfortable, you know that.”

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