Page 23 of Cream and Punishment
“Anyway, this guy comes in, and we chat for a bit.”
I nearly choked on the word “guy.” It was depressingly inadequate for Max, who’d looked like the hunk of all hunks in a simple polo and khakis. And when he’d responded to my horrible attempt at a joke with appreciation instead of disgust, I was ready to propose to him on the spot.
I shifted uncomfortably, my words barely more than a mumble. “Then I find out that he’s the fiancé here for the cake tasting, waiting for his fiancée to show up.”
Kris cringed sympathetically. Whether because she could extrapolate all the things Iwasn’tsaying about him or because she could see where this was going, I couldn’t say.
“I’ve already started planning our kids’ names at this point, so I’m pretty bummed.” And embarrassed, even though I didn’t think I’d outright flirted with him. That would imply I actually knew how to flirt in the first place. “But I lead him back to the cake tasting room Priscilla had set up while we wait for his fiancée to get there.”
I’d offered to leave him in peace and have him flag me down when she arrived, but he’d somehow pulled me into a conversation before I even realized it. From there, I didn’t even remember what we talked about, only that I hadn’t laughed that much in my life. I didn’t want it to end, so, selfishly, I stayed. I sat at the little table with him, assuring myself I would move and resume my professional duties the second his fiancée arrived, and that I wasn’t doing anything wrong.
“We talk for a while,” I summarize, even as zombie worms of dread crawl out of my stomach and leap for my throat. “Next thing I know, his fiancée is standing in the doorway. I don’t know how long she’s been waiting before I noticed, or what conclusions she’s drawn from how close I was to her man, but based on the look on her face, it can’t be good.”
I grimaced at the memory. His ex, a strikingly beautiful woman with silky black hair and impeccable makeup, had strode into the room with the confidence of a thunderstorm and the finality of the grave. “She casts me one look—scathing and dismissive, might I point out—and pulls Max off to the side. Unfortunately, she’s blocking the door, my one escape out of that room unless I jump through the window. Which I seriously consider.”
Hattie snickered and muttered something about “what I wouldn’t pay to seethat.”
I ignored her. “Either way, I’m stuck awkwardly standing as far away from them as possible while they talk. They’re quiet, but the room is even quieter, so I can hear basically everything.”
It was a nightmare. The only thing worse than being stuck in the middle of a spatting couple was hearing them talk about you the whole time.
“I don’t remember the specifics of what she says, aside from ‘I saw the way she looks at you.’ They argue about his job a little bit, and then, right when I’m about to unlatch the window and make a jump for it, she pulls off her ring and gives it to him. She says something like, ‘I love you, Max, but I don’t love you enough to marry you.’ Then she looks me dead in the eye and mentions howsomebodywill be happy to take her place.”
I suppressed a shudder. The second she’d locked eyes with me, I could’ve sworn I was done for. George Washington had more life to live than me at that moment.
“She leaves after that, and Max goes after her, of course. Priscilla—that’s the owner—sees this last part, naturally, because the Powers That Be hate me. She makes some snide remark about how” —more air quotes— “you’re supposed to sell them a cake, not make them call off the wedding.”
I’d been too stunned to respond in the moment, but after replaying the interaction for the seventeenth time in the shower days later, I’d finally come up with the response I should’ve given her.
I’d madea lotof bread that night. I’d needed to let my aggression out somehow, and dough couldn’t fight back.
I pushed my now-empty basket away and took a long pull from my ice water. It was both heavy and light, confiding in others about the incident that had haunted my thoughts frequently over the past year. Reliving it was like stepping into a vat of boiling sugar. Sharing the burden was the hand extended to pull me out, ready whenever I was.
But was I?
I forced myself to finish my tale, even as the memory of Max standing alone in the parking lot came to mind. “I walk by him on my way out, and he ignores me completely. Nothing but a hate-filled stare as I finally drive away, like I’d smooshed his taffy into the dirt.” I sucked in an uneven breath. “And I’ve been dreading seeing him again, knowing what I’ve done to him.”
Finally done recounting the third worst day of my life, I surveyed the group for their reactions. Annie absently swirled her straw around her nearly empty glass, her lips pursed in thought. Kris’ brow furrowed, even as she tipped her cup to crunch on the ice that remained. Hattie’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, though what she possibly found amusing about the day I’d earned myself an enemy, I had no clue.
“See?” I prompted. “He hates me.”
Hattie’s laugh finally escaped, coming out as a snorting sound that was somehow much more endearing and dignified than mine. “Oh, this just makes the white elephant gift he got at the party that much better!”
I frowned. “What gift?”
Hattie erupted into a fit of laughter, her words barely distinguishable. “A… voucher… for a date… withyou.”
My jaw dropped. “Awhat? How did he even get that?”
But as soon as the question left my mouth, I already knew the answer.Lex. My meddling baby sister with a wicked penchant for pranks and an unhealthy fixation on reviving my love life. Even if it meant setting me up with one of the—predominantly married—men at her engagement party.
She may as well have made a sign that said “Single and Desperate, Will Beg for Dates” and paraded me around in it at their field office. I mean, what if McBride had gotten it? That would be like going on a date with one of Dad’s friends. Talk about weird. I’d never been so glad to have fled the party, even if under duress.
Annie finally left her poor, overworked straw alone, ignoring Hattie’s comment. “You’resurehe hates you?”
I nodded emphatically. “Definitely.”
She exchanged a look with Kris. “Really? Because you tend to thinkeveryonehates you unless they explicitly tell you otherwise.”
