Page 59 of Get Lost

“You don’t know what sizewhatwill be?”

“The cake?”

Kelsey pursed her lips, her mind racing. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Shouldn’t you have that figured out by now?”

Alex frowned. “I don’t follow.”

Kelsey blinked a few times, then asked, “Are you not making the cake?”

Alexander leaned forward over the opposite side of the island, mirroring her stance. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re thechef,” she stated slowly. What kind of game was he playing?

“I am that, but…” He tilted his head, looking at her as though she’d sprouted wings out her ass. “I wouldn’t have the time to do all the cookingandcreate a wedding cake. Plus… I’m not a pastry chef?” He said it as if Kelsey was an idiot, which, frankly, was right in line with the way he looked at her right now.

“I understand that, but…” Her pulse sped. Wait. Was that an irregular heart beat? She placed her hand on her chest, feeling the rhythm of her heart.Was she finally going to succumb to the stress of event planning? Finally be taken out by the pressure of owning a small business?

“Are you all right?”

No, she wasfarfrom all right. She was terrified. She couldn’t mess up this wedding,

Kelsey opened up her task manager and reviewed her notes, her heart pounding wildly. Had she somehow dropped the ball? There was no way they’d be able to get a cake made in less than forty-eight hours, and she didn’t even know where to begin. What were the bakeries like on the island? Where was the nearest one? How late would they be open? Her eyes flicked to the time on the top of her iPad and she shook her head.Shit.It was way too late for a bakery to be open, wedding cake or otherwise. She scanned her bullet-pointed list and paused, her finger hovering over the wordsWedding cake: Chef Arroyo

“It says right here”—she pointed at the screen—“‘Wedding cake: Chef Arroyo’.” She looked up at him, ignoring the amusement in his eyes. He was enjoying this. She was about to lose her damn mind and he wasenjoyingit.

“Yes, I was supposed to bring a pastry chef friend of mine from Los Angeles, but plans changed.”

“What do you mean,‘plans changed’? We have no pastry chef? No wedding cake?” Kelsey set the device down on the counter, then ran her hands through her long hair. Had it just gotten hotter? She twisted her hair, then bent over and tied the long, twisted strands into a knot atop her head. “The wedding is in less than forty-eight hours! How are we going to…?” When she stood upright again, Alexander’s eyes were wide.“What?” Panic bloomed in her chest. Was there more bad news?

“Did you just… did you just tie your hair in a knot?”

“Alex!” she shrieked. “Explainplans change!”

His eyes narrowed and his lips quirked into that loathsome smirk. “Well, sometimes, people make arrangements with the best of intentions—”

She growled. “Alex.Please.”

“Renee hired some fancy new cake guy.”

The wind rushed from Kelsey’s lungs on a heavy sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God.”

“She found him in some magazine she’s obsessed with. Guess he handled a wedding for some woman she competes with at the gym. I don’t know. I stopped listening. Hiring this guy probably cost a fortune, but whatever Renee wants…”

Kelsey raised an eyebrow. Did she detect some bitterness in Alexander’s tone? Renee was his ex-girlfriend, but she’d assumed—based on the fact that not only was he cooking for the entire weekend, which was no small feat, he was also the best man in the wedding—that Alexander was friends with the bride.

Might as well ask him. It’s not like he’d ever hold anything back to protect her feelings, so why would she give him that courtesy? She met his gaze, hoping to gauge his response by the expression on his face. “So, what’s the story with you and—”

“I can only imagine what a last-minute flight from France must have cost Drew.” He raised his hands in the air in surrender. “But that’s not my business.”

Kelsey swallowed hard. She blinked. She rewound the last ten seconds in her mind, because she must have heard Alexander wrong.

She’d heard him wrong, hadn’t she?

She stared at him, blinking in rapid succession.

Yeah, of course she’d heard him wrong. The Harringtons weren’t flying in a French chef, because what were the odds of that? Two weddings in a row, in two different countries and totally unrelated, with the same up-and-comingFrenchwedding cake designer? No way.It just wasn’t possible. Coincidences like that didn’t exist outside of movies.

Horror movies, not romcoms, because there was nothing funny about this.

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