Page 51 of Falling for your Fake Boyfriend

“As sure as I am that my daughter-in-law has gone one scalpel hit too far at the surgeon’s office.”

We both had a good laugh as I helped her up from the bench. She placed her hand against my cheek. “You’re a good girl, Isla. I’m so glad you came this weekend.”

“And, for me, you’ve been the North Star of the whole event, Hazel.” We hugged and I walked her to the door. Once alone, I turned around and stared at the velvet box.

“A night to remember, Isla Lovely. That’s for darn sure.”

Gretchen sent a note up to my room via one of her kitchen staff. “I’ve pulled out my old recipe box and prepared a cherry-almond cake with marzipan crumble. I’d love your opinion.”

There was little that would keep me from tasting one of Gretchen’s masterpieces, even a possible run-in with Margaret. The aspirin and Hazel’s visit had kicked away the headache. I left the room, and luck once again worked against me. Alexandria reached the top of the stairs just as I hit the landing. She appeared more tanned than ever. It figured her long hair was gorgeous and shiny even after a swim. Nonna used to take us to a community pool on the hottest days of summer, and the tips of my pale blonde hair always turned green from the chlorine. My sisters would tease me that I was turning into a witch.

“We missed you at the pool,” Alex said in a voice that dripped with phoniness. “Maybe you don’t know how to swim?” she added. She seemed likable and far more down-to-earth when we first met, but apparently, I’d got her all wrong. So much for first impressions.

“I do swim, but Luke and I went on a long bike ride this morning, and I needed to get out of the sun. You know—skin cancer and all that.” I looked pointedly at her tanned legs.

“Well, it’s probably better that you weren’t there.” Boy, the gloves were coming off now.

“Yes, I don’t feel as if I missed anything special,” I said sharply.

“Not what I meant. We actually had a great time. Look, I know you came here with Luke. His mom mentioned it was a sudden last-minute thing?—”

“We’ve been together six months.” Even I wasn’t believing the act anymore. I wasn’t winning an Oscar this weekend.

“Right. Six months.” She didn’t try to hide her amusement. “I think we both know that Luke and you are not really suited for each other. On the other hand, the two of us are really starting to bond and since?—”

“Excuse me, I have somewhere to be,” I said as I swept past her.

“I’m sorry if the truth hurts,” she called snidely to my back. I raced to the kitchen to make sure I didn’t meet Margaret or her pernicious friend, Patricia. I didn’t think I could handle another full-on assault. I breathed a loud sigh of relief when I stepped into the kitchen. It was loud enough that Gretchen heard it.

“Oh dear, you’d better hurry over here. It seems you are in dire need of a piece of my cake.” A beautiful layer cake sat on a crystal pedestal. Glazed almonds and tiny marzipan cherries circled the top of the cake. Next to it, on a white porcelain plate, sat a smaller, shorter stack of the same cake. A few slices had been removed. Gretchen handed me a plate with a fragrant slice. “Now, the cake is almond. Lots of whipped egg whites to give it an almost macaron-like texture. The filling is a cherry and cherry liqueur reduction, and in addition to the vanilla buttercream, it is covered with a marzipan crumble. I haven’t made this recipe in years, but Margaret decided we needed to include some more desserts at the reception.”

I lifted the plate and ran my nose over it like a vintner with a glass of wine. “Love the aroma. Sometimes almond can be overpowering, but this is pure perfection. My mouth is watering just breathing it in.” I pressed my fork into it at an angle to make sure I got some of the filling and topping too.

It was a concert of deliciousness in my mouth, and at the same time, I felt nostalgic because it reminded me of Nonna’s almond and cherry slab cake. “It’s beyond description, Gretchen.”

A grin splashed across her face, and she clapped. “I thought it was delicious, but you know it’s hard to judge your own work. I needed an expert opinion.”

“I’m hardly an expert at many things,” I added, “but I know an outstanding baked good when I taste one. This cake will overshadow the actual wedding cake.”

Gretchen waved her hand in dismissal and leaned closer. “They must have had a dozen bakers come to the house for cake testing. It was mostly Margaret doing the tasting because Rachel had herself on such a strict diet, she wouldn’t allow herself a bite. In the end they went with one of those minimalist cakes with few decorations—a naked cake—and tiers that climb right up to the top of the tent. I tried a piece, and the sponge was dry and flavorless. It’s all about show and prestige. Margaret picked that particular baker because he had just made a cake for one of the women in her bridge club, a woman she’s constantly in battle with to outspend and outshine. As far as I know, Rachel had as little to say about choosing the cake as she has had with anything in the wedding.”

“That hardly sounds like a dream wedding then.”

“Only for Margaret. So, will you be at the party tonight? It’s going to be quite the affair.”

I thought back to the incredible jewelry sitting in my room. “I will be there with bells on.”

Gretchen laughed as she cut me another piece of cake.

“Just not sure if the dress will fit after this,” I added.

ChapterTwenty-Four

Luke

Istretched out on my bed for a rest before the dance. As nice as it had been to get in a horse ride, a bike ride and a swim this weekend, I was looking forward to it all being behind me. I knew someone else who was thinking the same thing, and suddenly, I had an urge to talk to her. I’d texted her plenty of times, but this time I tapped the FaceTime app. She answered. It took me a second to figure out where she was, and even then, I wasn’t entirely sure until a puff of bubbles passed by the screen.

“Are you in a bubble bath?” I asked with a laugh.

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