Page 71 of Salty, Spiced, and a Little Bit Nice

I crumpled my greasy burger wrapping paper and threw it back into the bag.

So why did I have this sinking feeling that I had missed out on the very best thing that could’ve happened in my life?

CHAPTER 20Front-Row Seat of a Damn Hot Show

Since we were going away for the weekend, I worked overtime on Thursday to check items off my To-Do List. I still had two weeks to make sure that everything was in place before the grand opening, but I didn’t want to worry about anything while I was gone.

My phone trilled, bursting my concentration. A crisp, businesslike voice greeted me from the other end. “Ellie Pang? This is Carmel, Jacqueline Goodwin’s assistant.”

“Hi, Carmel. How can I help?”

“Ms. Goodwin would like to place some orders for a party. I had a look at your social media pages, and I understand you make custom-decorated cookies. Do we have to come up with a design, or can you supply us with one?”

A sliver of guilt briefly cut through me, because Jacqui was being so kind, but here I was, deceiving her and letting her think I was Alec’s girlfriend. She had been nothing but supportive, and I should be ashamed for taking advantage of that.

No. This was business. Nothing personal.

“I can design one for her.” I went back into professional mode. This was our first big order, and there would be lots of important, well-connected people at her party. This was my chance to impress. I shifted the phone to my right hand as I grabbed a pad and a pen, poised to take notes. “Is there a theme that Jac—Ms. Goodwin would prefer?”

“Yes. I’ll email you a list of things we’d like to order, including specific requests to incorporate in the designs. The party is on the first weekend of April. Does that work for you?”

I nearly crapped my pants. That wasn’t too far away. “Absolutely,” I said, portraying a confidence I didn’t feel. “We have plenty of time.”

“Excellent. I’ll go ahead and send the email. Let me know if you’ve got any questions.”

The minute she hung up, I tapped my inbox open and refreshed it every few seconds, until her email whooshed in a few minutes later. They wanted five dozen each of the dark chocolate cronuts, peanut butter cupcakes, mini baked cheesecakes, and red velvet brownies. On top of that, they’d also ordered five hundred cookies in the shape of birthday cakes, champagne flutes, and wine bottles. It took me a few minutes to read and reread Carmel’s email, making sure I wasn’t imagining things. If the rough calculation I ran in my head was correct, the order would add up to almost six thousand dollars. It could cover my expenses for the first few weeks.

My face breaking into an excited grin, I let out a loud whoop and jumped up to do a happy dance. Someone believed in me, and trusted me with their important event, and my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest, becauseI was finally living my dream.

With a thousand things running through my head, I tappedopen my list-maker app and started a new to-do list for Jacqui’s party. I had so many things to do in such a tight timeframe, and I couldn’t afford to mess up. But the longer the list grew, the more neurotic my thoughts became. Self-doubt crept in, sending those thoughts snowballing further and catapulting me into a tizz of panic. What if I couldn’t pull it off? What if I screwed up my first big order, and business became so bad that we’d have to shut down within the first few weeks?

Then my mother would have the last laugh.

And I couldn’t let that happen.

Taking a deep breath, I closed the list, and decided to do some baking to calm my overthinking brain. I went to the kitchen and preheated the oven, planning to make the peanut butter cheesecake brookies I’d promised Alec. I took out a mixing bowl and some low-carb cookie dough from the cabinet, then broke the dough rounds apart in a bowl. I added a couple of eggs and mixed it, then poured the batter into a pan.

Things had been going well so far, and I had my plans and my lists to guide me. Come hell or high water, I had to prove to my parents that I could survive without their constant interference. This had always been my dream, and now that I’d come this far, there was no turning back.

Failure was not an option.

In another bowl, I beat some cream cheese until it became fluffy, then added some no-added-sugar peanut butter into the mix. Once it was smooth, I spooned the cheesecake mixture over the cookie batter and spread it evenly, then set the timer on the oven.

I kept working, melting some organic dark chocolate chips and chopping up some peanuts for the top layer, while slowly feeling myself calm down, and all the doubts melting away. I counted to ten, pep-talked myself, and finally kicked the crippling self-doubt to the curb as I cut the brookies into rows of six by six.

I can do this.

Everything would be just fine.

The house was dark and quiet when I got home. I stored the box of brookies in the fridge, left a note for Alec on the kitchen counter, then headed up to my room. Tossing my phone and bag on top of the dresser, I decided that a relaxing bubble bath was just what I needed to end the long day. Taking off my pump and grubby clothes, I wrapped myself in a towel, then padded out to the guest bathroom.

The spare bathroom was spacious and bright, with large windows and modern white furnishings. On the left side was a glass-walled shower, while the bathtub was hidden in a corner nook at the right side, which I headed straight for when I walked in. I ran the bath, dropping jasmine bath salts in it, then turned off the lights, letting the moonlight shine through the windows. I slipped in and let out a long, relieved breath, relishing the soothing feel of the warm, fragrant water quietly lapping around my body.

A few minutes later, there was the faintest sound of the front door opening and closing downstairs. I could hear Alec’s footsteps on the staircase, followed by the firm click of his bedroom door. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, letting the tension of the day slowly ebb away.

My eyes snapped open as the handle of the bathroom door suddenly rattled, and I belatedly realized it wasn’t locked. I’d never needed a reason to lock it—Alec had his own bathroom, so this one was practically mine.

But the next second, the man himself strolled in.

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