Page 71 of It Happened Duo

India let go of further questioning, and Miriam huffed but agreed. Score one for my bride.

Several minutes later, after pouring through photos and magazines and online searches, we decided upon the decorations for the cake — an elegant gold-monogram with our initials with red roses cascading down the side of the cake. Adornment of the cake completed, finally came time for sampling the flavors.

Vivian excused herself and returned a few minutes later, setting small silver trays holding three shot glasses in front of each of us. Inside each was a different flavor of cake and frosting. She’d marked each glass either A, B, or C. My mouth watered to the point of almost overflowing my lips as she described each one.

“This is what I’ve been waiting for.” I leaned in.

“In glass A, for fans of sweet and salty, I’ve created vanilla cake smothered in my homemade signature salted caramel pretzel buttercream. B is what I like to call a party in your mouth with roasted coconut cake and pineapple compote filling topped with vanilla buttercream. Finally, C contains something more traditional with champagne cake and raspberry filling, paired with vanilla bean buttercream. Dig in.”

She didn’t have to ask me twice. I moaned through all of them, practically scraping the glass with my fingers to taste every morsel. Chelsea only nibbled at hers and I fought the urge to grab them and finish them if she wasn’t going to.

I whispered into her ear. “What’s wrong?”

India noticed. “Rex, do you have something to say? The mic didn’t pick that up.”

I cleared my throat and remembered we had to act natural in what had to be the most unnatural setting, with someone butting into our lives like this. “Is there anything wrong, dear?”

“No. These are tasty, Viv. I’m so glad you’ll be a part of our wedding day.” The usual sunshine all but disappeared from my bride’s face as she spoke.Her cousin must have noticed.

“If you don’t like these, I can bring out some other flavors,” she offered. “I have chocolate fudge or lemon or?—”

“We’ll take C,” Agnes dictated. She and Miriam had their heads bowed together during the tasting, discussing their opinions, but what about mine? Ours? “The more traditional cake is perfect.”

“Hold on. Not the salted caramel? That’s my particular favorite.” I argued. “What’s yours, sweetness?”

All eyes landed on Chelsea, and the cameraman adjusted his lens, focusing on her as well. She peered around the table, then her demeanor shifted with a weak smile and a shrug. Did she even care about the cake—or this wedding?

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PARIS

REX

“They’re all delicious.I wish we didn’t have to choose.” Chelsea reacted to the cake flavors. “Can each layer of the cake be a distinct flavor?”

“I think it’s rather tacky to offer so many options to the guests. Two flavors maybe, but a dozen?” Agnes gave a haughty laugh, with her platinum hair so sprayed in place it didn’t move.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Mom chimed in.

“I disagree and have to go with what my smart and sweet bride wants.” I squeezed Chelsea’s hand.

“How about this? The main cake tiers can be the champagne vanilla with raspberry filling, but we could have tiers of cupcakes on the table, each a different flavor,” Vivian suggested, once again providing the perfect balance between all the personalities in the room.

“Yes. Write it up.” I slapped the table with my hand, as if it was the final say in the matter. “We want all the flavors. Throwchocolate and lemon in there as well. Our guests will have a feast of cake flavors to choose from. It’ll be such a sugar high on the dance floor, our wedding band will have to play faster to keep up.” I laughed and tugged Chelsea’s face my way by the chin and kissed her lips. “Whatever my bride wants, she gets.”

Miriam and Agnes stewed. I figured Chelsea would be happier about this. Only I could tell something was still off, but I didn’t dare bring it up in front of the rolling cameras or suffer more of India’s questioning.

As I sat back, wishing for this to end quickly so I could get Chelsea alone again and have a talk, a small child ran to Vivian out from behind the pastry display case. The cute blue sundress she wore set off her fair skin, dark hair, and big blue eyes so sweetly.

“Mommy. Me want cake, too. You pwa-missed,” her tiny voice begged.

“Sorry, ma’am, she ran out here before I could catch her,” an older woman with a British accent said. In a white apron over a navy dress, she rushed after the little one like a nanny.

Vivian picked up the girl, gave us an apologetic smile, and hugged the cute thing before handing her back. “In a few minutes,ma chérie.I’m almost done here. Can you be patient, please, and go with nanny?”

“Oh, she’s getting so big. So cute.” Chelsea put her hand up and tugged at the girl’s dress. The move tugged at something inside me, too…to get my bride alone in bed again as soon as possible.

“What’s her name?” I inquired.

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