Page 34 of Frosting and Flames

My head’s on a swivel looking between the two of them, but Hailey’s unbothered, still focused on her cupcakes.

Sydney stares at Rachel with a confused expression. “Oh. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Rachel dumps cookie cutters and spatulas and spoons into the hot water and bubbles. “You said business stuff is boring and that you don’t care.”

Sydney turns to her other sister. “Hailey, did you know?”

Hailey doesn’t take her eyes off her work as she responds, “Who do you think has been taking all the orders?”

Rachel faces me. “Chief Adkins?” she asks, trying to redirect the conversation.

Right. I open my mouth to answer, but Sydney cuts me off again.

“This is an important business thing, though. Shouldn’t you have consulted me? Or Mom or Dad? They’ve never advertised.”

“Don’t remind me,” Rachel mutters under her breath. She says more loudly, “You literally said not to bother you with details. I can’t read your mind if you change it.”

“I meant payroll or accounting stuff you do. Or ordering inventory. You know, lame stuff.”

She handles all that for the bakery in addition to baking? I didn’t know that.

Rachel sighs, scrubbing a whisk to get all the batter off. “Fine. I’ll include you from now on when it comes to non-lame things.”

Sydney seems satisfied with that compromise, and I look between the two women to make sure the conversation’s actually finished.

“I can come back when you’re not busy,” I murmur.

“No, I’m sorry—” A beeping timer interrupts her, and she drops the sudsy spoon she’s holding into the water to go turn it off. “That’s the, um… What was this timer for?”

“The Garcia’s cake,” Hailey says. “The red velvet one.”

“Right. I knew that.”

She brushes away wisps of hair escaping her ponytail and wipes her forehead with the back of her hand before slipping on oven mitts to retrieve the cake from the oven.

Before she can bring it to the closest workstation, though, she shouts, dropping the pan on the floor, and grabs at her inner arm. When she pulls her hand away, a blossoming red mark is visible underneath.

“Are you okay?” Hailey asks, stopping her work to look over. From the other side of the room, Sydney’s watching her with similar concern.

“I…” Rachel looks around the room wildly, gaze unfocused. “I need a minute.”

She shakes off the oven mitts and exits through the back door leading outside to the alley.

“What happened?” Sydney asks.

“She burned herself,” I say, my feet already walking after her. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

Sydney points toward the corner. “In the office on the top shelf.”

I nod and find the white box with a red cross on it right where she said it’d be, then quietly leave through the back door to find Rachel.

She’s leaning against the side of the building, staring up at the sky, her hand squeezing her inner arm. She doesn’t look atme as I approach, or when I rifle through the kit searching for the burn cream.

“You keep seeing me at my worst.”

I look over at her, unsure what she’s talking about. “What?”

“All these situations where everything’s going wrong. The fire and the five hundred cookies and the unprepared pancake breakfast. And me freaking coughing up a lung in front of you at my house.” She chuckles, but there’s not much humor in it.

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