Page 22 of Cut The Cake

A hollow tapping echoed in the ear Jenny had pressed against the phone. Recognizing the signal that her cousin had grown weary of the conversation and had begun drumming her nails on the closest hard surface, she massaged her temples. Tension tightened its grip on her head with every drum roll.

“So you see, the arrangements you’ve made simply won’t do. Be a doll and fix things, won’t you?”

Why should I?

Jenny pressed one hand over a stomach that had turned positively mutinous. She hadn’t created this mess. She’d planned a perfectly wonderful, simple wedding, exactly what her cousin had asked her to do. It wasn’t her fault Karolyn and Chad had changed everything at the last minute. She didn’t have to go along with their plans. She could walk out right now and go …

Her thoughts skidded to a halt. Where could she go?

Not back to L.A. If she didn’t deliver on her promise to throw the wedding of Kay’s dreams—cousin or not—she could forget about her job as the personal assistant to one of the top names in Hollywood. She wouldn’t land another job like it, either. Her reputation as a top-notch assistant would be shot once word got around that she’d quit in the middle of the planning stages of Kay’s wedding. And word would get around. In L.A., it always did. After that, no one else would hire her.

Then, there was the problem of where she’d live. She couldn’t expect to keep her room in Kay’s stately Beverly Hills mansion. Though she had savings to fall back on, her money wouldn’t last long in L.A.’s high-rent district. Which meant she’d have no choice but to return to her aunt’s farm in Pennsylvania to lick her wounds while she hunted for a new job, a new career.

But no. That wouldn’t work. Not once her cousin heaped the blame for the wrecked wedding on her shoulders, it wouldn’t. Of course, Kay would conveniently fail to mention her own part in the disaster, or how she’d more than quadrupled the guest list less than a month before the ceremony. As much as her aunt loved her, Jenny doubted she’d even have the chance to tell her side of things before Aunt Maggie shut the door in her face. After all her aunt had done for her—taking her in after her parents had died, making sure she got a college education and a thousand other things—was that how she wanted things to end up between them?

Jenny inhaled. Air shuddered through her. Kay hadn’t left her much choice. She had to do what her cousin wanted. No matter how much she hated the thought of starting over from scratch—of becoming another of the dreaded yes-men—she had to give Kay the wedding she wanted.

Her lips pursed as she considered the problem from every angle. Her breathing eased when she realized there was one upside to the new plan. Now that the invitations were in the mail, it’d be impossible to keep the bride’s identity a secret anymore. Shop and business owners throughout Heart’s Landing were bound to be upset by the adjustments she’d have to make to the wedding plans. She knew, though, that their resistance would melt away like butter once they found out who was really tying the knot at the Captain’s Cottage. Everyone wanted to be associated with a superstar like Karolyn Karter.

Best of all, she wouldn’t have to tell any more lies.

Her heart beat a little faster at the thought of telling Nick the truth. Would the tall, handsome baker be relieved to learn she wasn’t engaged after all?

As if she was reading her mind, Kay’s voice whispered into her ear. “No one knows it’s my wedding you’re planning, right?”

“No,” she mumbled, though by now, word had most certainly leaked to the tabloids.

“Good. Mum’s the word. Remember, you promised. I’m sure everyone’s talking about where we’re holding the ceremony and making guesses, but Chad and I are still keeping things under wraps.”

“How is that even possible?” Her hand clenched until her nails bit into her palms. Deliberately, she flexed her fingers. “You sent out invitations.”

“Chad thought of that. He’s chartered a jet. No one will know where we’re headed until we’re in the air. Wasn’t that smart?”

“Smart,” Jenny whispered. Unlike her, who had to be the dumbest person in the world for letting her cousin trap her into planning the wedding of the decade for the second time around.

When Kay didn’t respond, she lowered the phone from her ear. The screen had gone dark. Her cousin had undoubtedly moved on to other things. She reached for her purse and the stash of Tylenol she kept on hand for the times when Kay’s shenanigans got the best of her. This was one of those times.

She should have known better than to believe her cousin would go through with an understated, but elegant, wedding for family and a few close friends. Kay had always been the flamboyant one, the one who thrived on attention. Even when they’d been kids. Like a lot of children, they’d put on plays in the backyard on summer afternoons. Unlike their friends, Kay had lugged wooden pallets home from the nearby lumberyard and assembled them into a sturdy stage. She’d created elaborate costumes using jewelry from the discount store and clothes she’d salvaged from the ragbag. And she had always, always, been the star of the show. So no. Nothing about Hollywood’s darling of the screen had ever been simple. Nothing at all.

Why had she ever thought Kay’s wedding would be any different?

Nick gave a firm tug on the handle on the rear door of I Do Cake’s delivery van. Hinges in need of a good oiling complained bitterly. He resisted the urge to head to the nearest car repair shop. Instead, he ran a smoothing hand over the plaid shirt he’d changed into because someone had once told him it brought out the blue in his otherwise gray eyes. His shirttail had worked loose. He tucked it into the waist of his best jeans.

He frowned down at himself. Why was he so on edge? The delivery van received regular service. He usually didn’t give his clothes much more than a passing thought. Clean and reasonably wrinkle-free, and he was good to go. But tonight—what made tonight different?

He wasn’t trying to impress anyone. Leastways, not anyone at the Union Street B&B. Just because he’d volunteered to take their usual Wednesday delivery off Jimmy’s hands, that didn’t mean he expected to run into any particular bride-to-be. Not him. Why, he probably wouldn’t even see Jenny this evening. She was most likely out on the town, doing whatever engaged women did on one of a dwindling number of nights before they said, “I do.”

If, on the off-chance, he did spot her at the bed-and-breakfast, he’d simply greet her like he would any casual friend and be on his way. Because friendship was all he felt for her.

All he could ever feel for another man’s bride.

Even if, other than the rock on the third finger of her left hand, she showed none of the normal signs of someone in love. No long, lingering looks at her fiancé’s picture. No constant flow of texts during her initial consultation about her wedding cake. No whispered phone calls and emails to interrupt the tasting. Not so much as a single reference to the love of her life unless she was asked a direct question about the man.

Not that it mattered to him any more than a dash of vanilla. No, siree. Whatever was going on—or not going on—between Jenny and her fiancé, it was absolutely none of his business. More to the point, it had to stay that way. She was a bride-to-be, something it would do well for him to keep in mind. As much as he enjoyed her sassy wit, as much as he liked seeing her face light up whenever she took her first taste of one of his cupcakes, Jenny was engaged to someone else.

And he needed to keep his distance.

Satisfied that he’d reached the only possible decision, he hefted the two heavy trays destined for the kitchen in the Union Street Bed-and-Breakfast and headed up the sidewalk to the rear entrance.

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