Page 74 of Faking I Do
“That’s ridiculous. Our entire wedding budget is only five thousand dollars. I can’t afford to spend forty percent of that on the cake.”
“It’s good cake.” Helmut plated a Banzai Burger Special while I performed math acrobatics in my head.
I didn’t care how good the cake was, I didn’t have an extra two grand. “Now, will you make the cake or do I need to work with someone else?”
Helmut wiped his hands on his apron before settling his meaty paws on his hips. “Who else will you find to make you a cake?”
I matched his stance. I’d had just about enough of the local vendors trying to rake me over the coals and price-gouge me. Didn’t they know I was doing this for their own good? “I’ll check with my good friend, Betty Crocker.”
He smirked as he waved me off. “Good luck.”
“I’ll make you a cake.” Jojo stopped at the counter to clip an order ticket on the spinning rack. “What’s the occasion?”
I inhaled a deep breath through my nose. The smell of fried onions assaulted me. “It’s a wedding.”
“Oh, I love weddings.” Jojo clapped her hands together. “Anyone I know?”
Enthusiasm. I could work with enthusiasm. “It’s actually, well, it’s me.”
“What?” Jojo grabbed my hands in hers and squeezed. Then she flipped my left hand over. “Where’s the ring? Who’s the groom? When’s the date?”
“You ask too many questions.” Helmut set two burger plates in the serving window and chimed the bell. “Order up.”
“I’ll fill you in later,” I promised. “But really, you can make a cake?”
“I did one for my cousin’s best friend’s grandma’s birthday a few years ago. Ain’t nothin’ but a little baking. And you know how much I love baking.”
“Yeah, we all know.” Helmut waved us off. “Food’s getting cold.”
“Later,” I said. Then I grabbed the two Burger Banzai platters and delivered them to the couple I didn’t recognize sitting at table four.
Jojo hunted me down after the lunch rush. “So about this cake. How many people does it need to feed?”
I had just sat down in a back booth to work my way through my club salad. It was a lot more lettuce and a lot less of “club” anything but I’d always been grateful for the free meals Helmut offered, especially when I was a starving college student home on break. Of course, now I was a starving mayor who had the future of an entire town resting on my shoulders. It might take more than a club salad to fuel my efforts.
“What’s the scoop? Tell me everything. Where did y’all meet? What’s he look like?” Jojo slid into the booth opposite me with an expectant grin on her face.
I toyed with my straw. “Well, you actually know him.”
“I do? Who is he?”
“Bodie Phillips.” I sighed as I kept my gaze trained on the contents of my glass. Bubbles floated to the top then burst, kind of like how the bubbles in the pit of my stomach felt as I waited for a reaction from Jojo.
“You’re getting married to Deputy Phillips?” Jojo leaned back, slumping against the back of the booth. “He’s a hottie, that’s for sure. But really? I haven’t seen the two of you so much as smile at each other without one of you getting mad enough to chew up nails and spit out a barbed wire fence. What’s going on?”
Jojo’s reaction didn’t surprise me. I’d been waiting for someone to call me out and point out the obvious—that Bodie and I went together like whipped cream and cow patties. Now I had two choices: give Jojo my most convincing story or admit everything was a farce and hope my friend wouldn’t sell me out. As I contemplated which way to go, the bell over the door jangled.
I glanced to the front of the restaurant. “I’ll get this one.”
“Go ahead. Then come back here and tell me all about your sordid secret love affair with the good deputy.” She pulled the latest issue of her women’s magazine out of her purse.
Before I had a chance to stand, Bodie stopped at our booth, leaned down, and planted a kiss on my cheek. “Hi there.”
I pulled back in surprise as he sat down next to me. Jojo’s eyes just about bugged out of her head at the sight of Ido’s most eligible law enforcement officer.
“Jojo.” He nodded at her.
“Deputy.” She nodded right back.
