Page 30 of Say You Want Me
“Thank you so much, sugar.” Hmm, she sounds much better. “I mean . . .” She starts to wheeze. “You’re saving a dear old lady from great embarrassment. I’ve had cupcakes at the festival since I can remember, which is alongtime.”
I silently laugh. “I’m glad to help, Mrs. Kannan. Do I need to come by and get the keys?”
“No, no, sugar,” she replies instantly. “Wyatt knows how to get in. I don’t want you catching whatever I have. Bye now.”
She disconnects, and I look at the phone. I’ve been played. Expertly I might add.
I text Wyatt about the call, and tell him I need him to get me into the bakery to help. Thirty minutes later, he walks through the door with dirt all over his face.
“Hey.”
“Thanks for coming home. Presley called explaining I need to make about a thousand cupcakes by tomorrow.”
He grins. “Our festival is an affair.”
“Sounds like it.”
Wyatt walks into the bedroom and returns a few minutes later in only a towel. “I’ll clean up and take you over.”
I go to protest, but he shuts the door before I can say anything. I wonder why he didn’t ask me about going to the festival. I figure that would be something he’d attend. Maybe he doesn’t, though? Weird.
Once he’s all clean, we’re on our way to the small shop that sits in the middle of the main street, which is freaking adorable. The store fronts have the old version of the flag banners that hang in a half circle. There are big tents lining the street and little fair-looking rides down at the other end. If he doesn’t bring me here tomorrow, I’ll kill him.
“This is so damn cute,” I muse as we walk to the back of the store.
“It’s something.”
“Were you going to take me to the festival?”
He looks over with the key in the lock. “I figured you’d hate it.”
“Why?” I ask with shock. “Why would you think that?”
“I didn’t know if draggin’ you to a big event in town would earn me any points. I can’t tell if I should make you go to things or keep you away from them.”
That hurt. I guess I haven’t really wanted to become a part of the town. Or really a part of anything solid here. It makes sense why he’d feel that way. Ugh. I hate myself sometimes. “I’m sorry. I really would love to go.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “If you’d like to take me.”
He grins. “Honey, you’re working it now.”
“What?”
“You agreed to bake, but you also need to be out front to sell the cupcakes. There’s no way these ladies are going to let you slide.”
I gasp. “You knew!”
“Of course I knew. I’ve been getting worked by that group since I was in diapers. They knew you couldn’t say no. They found an in and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”
Son of a bitch. I freaking knew it! Then again, I never would’ve been able to say no even though she was faking. Presley used to joke about their meddling, but I thought she was being dramatic.
They showed me.
We enter the bakery, and I’m taken back in time. The appliances are all older, well used, and loved. It’s beyond clean, but not stark. The entire bakery is filled with deep reds, navy blues, and worn whites. It’s Americana décor at its finest. All the pieces are eclectic, but purposeful. There’s linens on the five tables in the corner. The glass case in front is filled with different cakes and bakery items. The wall is chalkboard with all the flavors and their prices.
“Well.” I turn to Wyatt. “I’m going to be here a while, so if you want, I can call you when I’m done?”
Making a thousand cupcakes is going to take me all night.
“I’m not leavin’. I’m your assistant,” he announces.
