Page 40 of For Butter or for Worse
“King beat you to it,” Cecily says. “Therefore, we’re heading to the bakery!”
Well, now I’m questioning my choice, and I have the sudden horrifying vision of being forced to hear about every single change Georgie wants to make and offer up my honest opinion. That is not going to end well for anyone unless Isuddenly become a master of deception. There’s no way I can look Georgie in the face and tell her flat-out that I will hate any change she wants to make, even if it’s the truth.
This time, Cecily forcefully grabs my hand instead of offering hers to me, and she’s pulling me out of the shop before I can protest.
I still try. “Wait! Can I lock up first?”
Cecily reluctantly lets me finish closing up the shack before she grabs hold again and pulls me to the boardwalk. The sun is starting to set, and Coral Berry is more crowded than it has been so far this season. It’s like everyone and their dog—literally, there are a million dogs—decided to come to Willow Cove in the last couple of days and crowd the boardwalk. Before the meeting with Vanderman, I would have been glad for the cover of tourists so we won’t be watched as closely by the locals, but now it means Georgie and I will be busier than ever.
“Why are we going to the bakery?” Georgie asks, a little breathless because Cecily is walking like a woman on a mission and dragging us with her. “I thought we were just going to sit around and talk for twenty minutes or something.”
“Oh, but that’s not going to work for you two. This counseling is going to require a special touch.”
“I really don’t like the sound of that,” I say.
Cecily merely throws a grin at me.
Thankfully, the bakery is closed by this point so the place is blessedly quiet compared to the rest of the boardwalk. Bill always talked about maybe keeping the place open later in the day because inevitably several dozen tourists will try the door throughout the evening, but I’m glad we’ve kept to normal baking hours. They can go to Maggie’s sweet shop down the way and try us again in the morning.
“Seriously, what are we doing here?” Georgie asks. “I already spent all day here, and while I love baking, I don’t love it that much.”
“Do you love it enough to walk King through how to make macarons?”
Georgie snorts. “Do you mean macaroons?”
“Excuse you, but which one of us has actually been to Paris? I mean macarons.”
I have a vague idea what Cecily is talking about, and I’m pretty sure Georgie was making them before we went ring shopping. I also know Bill tried to make them a couple of times and ended up going on a tirade about French pastries when he couldn’t get them to bake right.
“King can’t make macarons,” Georgie says, though she heads into the kitchen as if ready to face the challenge.
I follow her with a frown. “Why can’t King make macarons?” I ask indignantly. She’s probably right, but I don’t like how little faith she has in me.
“Because they take a delicate hand, and you don’t have those.” As if she needs to demonstrate, she lifts my hand within view of my face. But then her eyes catch on the ring on my finger, and a spark of something comes to life in her eyes.
I tug my hand free as a fire sparks in my belly to match.
Turning to Cecily, who followed us into the kitchen, Georgie shakes her head. “I can show him, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to be able to do it.”
“I didn’t ask you to show him.”
“You said—”
“I told you that you’re going to walk him through it, which means you’re not allowed to touch any of it.”
I don’t especially love that Georgie laughs out loud. “You’ve got to be kidding,” she says.
“They can’t be that hard,” I throw in. “I’ve been able to make decent versions of everything in Bill’s recipe book.”
That’s not necessarily true. There’s a reason Meg started relegating me to cookie duty. But I like to think I can follow instructions as well as anyone and, knowing Georgie, she’ll be incredibly particular with her directions.
Georgie’s argument comes quickly. “Bill didn’t make macarons.”
“But you do,” Cecily argues for me, raising an eyebrow at Georgie. “And if you want to convince this town and its questionable attorney that you are not a threat to their ecosystem, you need to prove that you trust this man enough to truly be his wife. AKA you have to trust him with something important toyou. King is trusting you with his uncle’s bakery, Georgie, and I don’t think you realize how difficult this is for him.”
Georgie’s eyes meet mine, her eyebrows low, and while I would absolutely love to pretend Cecily is wrong, I can’t. Maybe it’s because it’s coming from her friend, or maybe it hasn’t been put in such clear terms before now, but Georgie seems to grasp my take on this for the first time.
“Okay,” she says with a sigh. “King, I’m sorry. I know you’re not getting a lot out of this deal.”
