Page 112 of Frosting and Flames

Across the way, Sydney watches me unnervingly as she kneads dough. It’s clear she senses something is wrong, even though I insisted I was fine when she asked earlier. I won’t be able to hide it forever, but I don’t want to get into it right now, a lump still stuck in my throat that I fear won’t go away, my stomach unsettled and anxious.

At least I don’t have to deal with Hailey, too, since it’s her day off. Although she would let it be if I told her to drop it. That’s not Sydney’s style, though.

I rub my temples to stave off the pressure of an oncoming headache from the stress. Or maybe it’s from lack of sleep, I don’t know. Either way, the world feels muted, like I’m wading through fog.

Did I miss something last night? Some kind of clue that would explain everything? Or did I see exactly what’s there? A truth I never expected from Nick.

The man I was falling in love with.

Wasn’t I just thinking yesterday at the cookoff how lucky I am to have him? How I don’t deserve someone as amazing as him? We’d just had the most incredible night together. And now, this.

I try to turn off my brain, going through the motions as I stock the display case before we open. Normally, I sneak a few pastries, unable to help myself, but there’s no temptation today. Sydney even made her new lemon cheesecake and blueberry rolls, waving one under my nose, but I’d only been able to muster a small smile for her before declining.

At seven, Desiree shows up to open the front and I retreat into the back, working on coffee cake slices with cinnamon streusel topping and an extra tray of cinnamon rolls, knowing Mrs. Montour will be here soon for her weekly dozen.

“Are you seriously going to mope over there all morning?” Sydney asks after an hour.

I glance her way, where she’s supposed to be drizzling vanilla glaze on the tray of scones in front of her, but is instead scowling at me, hand on her hip.

“What?”

“Don’twhatme. Something’s up with you. I’ve been waiting for you to talk, but you won’t.”

“I’m…” I shake my head. “Just exhausted from the cookoff yesterday. It took a lot out of me.”

Her gaze narrows, like she doesn’t believe me. I’ve never been a great actress, despite my performances in front of my doorbell. “That’s how you’re going to play it?”

“It’s true,” I insist, but even I can tell there isn’t enough conviction in my voice.

She shakes her head, almost as if she’s disappointed in me. “I’m taking a break.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and heads to the office.

Great. Now I have someone else I’m on the outs with.

Guilt sits low in my stomach, along with the other jumble of emotions I have going on. Should I confide in Sydney? Yes, of course I should. That’s what sisters are for.

But this is humiliating. Barely over half a year ago I had to admit my then-boyfriend had cheated on me and knocked up another woman. Now this? Can’t I catch a break?

Sydney is silent when she comes back out a few minutes later to finish up the scones, but there’s tension in the air.

“I’m sorry,” I finally say when I can’t take it any more.

“For what?”

“I… I’ll talk.”

“Oh.” Something passes over her face, but I can’t tell what it is. “Well, I kind of pulled out the big guns.”

Oh, God. “What did you do?”

“I thought you were going to stay clammed up over there. So I called Jae.”

I groan, even though I can’t fault her. I’d do the same if I needed info out of someone. Jae doesn’t take no for an answer.

Well, at least she didn’t call Nick. I still have no idea what I’ll say to him tomorrow.

It takes Jae no time at all to burst her way through the doors to the back, holding a hand out to Sydney. “I was promised a cinnamon roll for my interrogation skills.”

I roll my eyes as Sydney grabs one from the tray in front of me and hands her one. “An interrogation? Really?”

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