Page 68 of Craving

“You can crash on my couch,” Lucy offered.

Camilla glanced at her friend and put a brave smile on her face. “I haven’t quite figured that out yet, but I will. Thank you, Lucy. I’ll let you know once this cake is done and delivered and I have time to think about anything else.” And after she’d faced Frankie Smith for the very last time.

There was a deep, uncomfortable silence. Then Scarlett said, gently, “Camilla, sweetie, are you okay? Maybe there’s another solution for the cake… We can get one from another bakery… Fred will understand.”

Camilla kept working. She peeled off the baking paper she’d used to line the pans and tossed it. Her hands were shaking.

“Do you want me to talk to Fred?” Amelia asked. “I can explain what happened.”

“No,” Camilla clipped. “I told him I’d have his cake at the venue by ten o’clock in the morning, so that’s what’s going to happen. This is my first and last chance to make a good impression with him and his peers, and I don’t want that to be overshadowed by anything. I won’t have Nadia stressing about her wedding cake the day before she gets married.”

“Okay,” Amelia answered. From the corner of Camilla’s eyes, she saw the three of them exchange glances. “Can we help?”

“I’d really just like to be left alone,” Camilla answered, spinning to face them. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be rude. I love you and I appreciate you checking in, but I really need to focus.”

Lucy looked like she wanted to say something, but she remained silent. Amelia and Scarlett glanced at each other, then at Camilla. Tension lay thick in the air, all of Camilla’s secrets standing like the stakes of a palisade between them.

Finally, Amelia nodded. “Sure. Call us if you need anything. Do you have a ride home?”

Camilla glanced toward the front of the bakery, frowning. Her car was at Marlon’s house; she’d walked to the Winter Festival with the girls, and Marlon had driven her here.

“I’ll leave my car,” Lucy offered, pulling out her keys. “Scarlett, can I get a lift from you?”

“Of course.”

Camilla took the keys, squeezing them against her palm as her throat tightened. She didn’t deserve her friends. Not when she hadn’t told them about Frankie and the debt. Not when it felt like she was lying to them right now. But they each hugged her in turn, then left her to her work.

Camilla slept at the bakery, curled on the floor in her office. When she went to sleep, Daniel was already bustling around the kitchen as he started on the day’s bread. Camilla got a few hours of fitful sleep while he hummed to himself on the other side of the office door.

Her alarm went off too soon, and she stumbled out, put her apron on, and put the finishing touches on the cake. When she checked her bank account, the money had cleared. She’d be able to go to the one branch of her bank that was open for a few hours on Saturday to get enough cash to end this nightmare once and for all.

Marlon hadn’t called or texted to check in on her after all, and Camilla tried to tell herself she wasn’t bothered. Their relationship was over, and it was for the best. She checked over her lists for the order, made sure everything was in order, and heaved a sigh of relief. It was nine o’clock, and she’d done it.

So why did she feel so awful?

“It looks great, Camilla,” Daniel said, wrapping an arm around her and leaving a floury handprint on her shoulder. “All of it. But you should have called me to come help instead of redoing it all on your own last night.”

She looked over the baked goods that would free her from the guillotine blade she’d borrowed from Frankie Smith. “I needed to fix this myself.”

Daniel sighed, squeezed her close, then got back to work. The bakery’s dining room was noisy with customers and employees, the espresso machine hissing, the till banging open and closed. Camilla didn’t have the strength to go out there and put on a cheery face. Instead, she packed up the tiered cake and as many sheet cakes as would fit in the trunk of Lucy’s car and drove to the Goodhew wedding venue.

Fred and Nadia had chosen to get married at the grandest venue in Stirling, the Old Road Hotel, which was nestled in the forest just on the outskirts of town. The stone building sat like a sentinel at the bottom of Stirling Hill, surrounded by trees. As Camilla drove, snowflakes began to fall. For the first time all year, they were sticking to the ground. The Goodhews’ wedding photos would be gorgeous.

Camilla drove carefully along the long drive. She’d have to make one more trip to get the rest of the desserts for the wedding, and then she could stop at the bank and withdraw the cash she needed to pay Frankie.

Then her nightmare would be over.

She rolled her window down and spoke to one of the staff members at the hotel gates, who waved her on to the service entrance at the back of the building. She was acquainted with the kitchen staff member who came to meet her, and she brought the tiered wedding cake in on a wheeled trolley.

Once the cake was in the building, Camilla assembled the tiers and put the finishing touches on the decorations. It looked elegant and timeless and delicious, and all it needed was the Goodhews’ priceless cake topper. Camilla then spent an hour ferrying other delicious goodies into the kitchen while the rest of the staff prepared to cater the huge event.

There was a buzz in the air: that familiar, just-on-the-edge-of-chaos feeling that seemed to live in commercial kitchens. A big, tattooed dishwasher worked at warp speed on the other side of the room while men and women in white uniforms chopped and stirred and prepped like their lives depended on it.

Most of the people were strangers to her, apart from the head chef and a couple of the serving staff who were zipping in and out of the kitchen. Still, the energy of the room sank into her pores and gave Camilla a little boost of energy.

It didn’t last long. By the time all the desserts were at the venue, prepped and accounted for, tiredness had seeped into Camilla’s marrow. She slipped out of the kitchen and leaned against the hallway wall, closing her eyes as she let out a deep breath.

She felt Marlon before she ever heard him. His presence was like a tug on her gut she couldn’t ignore. She opened her eyes and turned to face him as he stalked down the corridor toward her, taking up more space than he should.

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