Page 30 of The Cake Fairies
Chapter Seventeen
POLLY
Polly knew that Alex had focused his attention on her. She knew it felt awkward. But what she didn’t understand was why? Why wasn’t Alex attracted to her beautiful cousin? It just didn’t make sense. He and Annabelle matched each other perfectly in the looks department.
She was furious with herself for all the fidgeting she’d done in the supermarket café. The fiddling with her tea cup, the brushing of imaginary crumbs (for she’d hardly had a bite of that cake) from the table onto her jeans, and from her jeans onto the floor – anything to try to ignore the chaotic pounding of her heart.
He’s the one. He’s the one. He’s the one.
Every beat had sent its message loud and clear to her struggling-to-keep-a-lid-on-it head. And then there was the timely crashing of plates. She seemed to attract that wherever she went. But on this occasion she couldn’t have been more thankful, for with that sudden clatter, she’d magically and mysteriously come to her senses, remembering that Alex couldn’t tick a single box on her criteria list; that none of this could be real.
The guy was badass through and through: too young, too good looking, and way too cocksure.
And no, she absolutely was not being a lady who doth protest too much.
She was riddled with guilt. He shouldn’t have taken a shine to her. Her cousin deserved first dibs. Polly’s insecurities were always messing up Annabelle’s chances, making her wait. Yes, Amber Magnolia had dropped a very large hint that this was the last roll of the romantic di; that in the game of love they could ill afford to slide down another snake. But Alex was not a ladder. Alex was a soufflé. He put on a good show, she’d give him that, yet he was full of hot air, and there was no way she was about to re-enact the tragic love story her parents had written.
Coffee and walnut cake. All or nothing, she reminded herself.
Ivy’s rescue had turned out to be a most welcome diversion on the awkward journey home to the penthouse. Taking the girl under her wing had helped Polly further forget about Alex.
Back in the apartment, Polly helped stash away the gazillion foodie wonders of their shopping extravaganza, minus the peppermint which hadn’t quite made it into the trolley, while Ivy hobbled into a hot shower. Then Polly hand-delivered a giddily happy Cecil his quails’ eggs, and cheekily gave their young guest the green light to raid Annabelle’s wardrobe. Much as she’d immediately warmed to the teen, her own couture clobber was way too good to share.
Then it was time for a foot bandage and a piece of restorative cake. Two whole days without baking was unheard of for Polly. Her soul craved the comfort of ritual and creation, and Ivy’s slender teenage frame certainly needed the bolstering.
Soon Ivy was greedily heaping her fallen sugar flowers back on top of a cupcake. Annabelle had whipped up a speedy batch, Polly had decorated. Another extravaganza in itself and the kitchen now resembled a bombsite, neither of them daring to christen the high-tech equipment just yet, sticking instead to trusty bowls and wooden spoons.
“Whoareyou?” asked Ivy, dressed in a strange purple oversized tunic and belt that Annabelle had insisted she didn’t need to return. It had to be said, it went remarkably well with her nails.
“We’re the Cake Fairies.”
“Cool business name.”
“Thanks. It was given to us by a friend.” Polly winked at Annabelle and felt some of the earlier tension between them melt away.
“So, what? You bake those trendy unicorn birthday cakes and stuff?”
Polly made a mental note, eyebrows arching now at Annabelle, who she just knew was doing the same. “Something like that, yeah.”
“You’re obviously pretty successful, living in a pad like this. I bet you have a few million subscribers on your YouTube account. Ooh, wait till I tell my friends!”
“Anyway,tell us,Ivy. What’s a typical day like foryou? How many hours per day do you spend on your mobile telephone… and other gadgets?”
Annabelle got them back on track, and Polly hoped the sugar rush would fuel some kind of innovative and ground-breaking response, because this girl could damn well forget any ideas of wild parties here with her buddies.
“Actually, it’s aniPhone,” Ivy corrected.
“Well, yes, that too.” Annabelle was beginning to get irritated now, which was kind of understandable, given the amount of free nurturing the girl had received from them this evening.
“Dunno really.” She chewed on her cake in contemplation. “The alarm – that’s inbuilt, of course – wakes me up in the morning. I check out my notifications on Snapchat and Instagram, and then I kind of lose track of time.”
And reality.
“And then?” Annabelle pressed her.
“Oh, I have to come off it for college and things… and to have actual conversations with my mates… and at mealtimes. Well, then there’s my Krav Maga self-defence classes, sex, too… sometimes.” She giggled. “Other than that…”
“Fascinating…” Polly encouraged Ivy to keep going, while Annabelle sucked in her breath, eyes almost jumping out of her sockets.
“So, it’s a pretty important part of your life, and you probably couldn’t imagine a day without it?”
“Ohemgee no. Like, my entire life is on this thing.”
Ivy waved the iPhone in the air with her left hand – she’d yet to put it down, having been parted with it once today already – and continued to chase crumbs around the plate with her right hand.
Annabelle had taken to some impressive eye-rolling and head tilting now in the direction of the door, and Polly sensed that she was keen to wind this up and organise a cab so that Ivy could be on her merry way. But Polly wasn’t done yet. A forgone conclusion this may have been, but she sensed that they needed Miss Lee on side for the greater good of some of their future cake drops.
“Listen, Ivy,” Polly said. “We’re probably only going to be in London a short while. But we’ve got a proposition. What do you say?”
