Page 76 of Cream and Punishment
As much as I wanted to argue, I couldn’t. Not with any hope of being right, anyway. If she’d just told me to be more confrontational or assertive, I’d overanalyze each of our interactions, stressing about whether I came across as assertive enough. I’d only change my behavior around her because I knew she wanted that. Meanwhile, I’d be kicking myself for being so spineless in the first place.
The thought of her going to such great lengths to irk me for the past year still raised my hackles, but at least I understood it now. Somewhere under the adrenaline flooding my system and the shaking in my legs, standing up for myself feltgood. Empowering, almost. Something I hadn’t felt since the pre-Besserman days.
Maybe I could handle running my own bakery again, rejection sensitivity and all.
When my mouth finally decided to work again, I offered a small smile. “Thank you.”
She arched a graying eyebrow, letting her hand drop from my shoulder to perch on her hip. “For pretending I couldn’t hear you and shooting down your ideas?”
I scowled, though I wasn’t nearly as irritated anymore. “No, I’m still not happy with you about that. I’m thanking you because you helped me. In your own way.”
She nodded graciously, a pleased smile creasing her face. “Of course, dear.”
I took a deep breath, savoring the sweet scent of the bakery. I didn’t know if I was ready to run my own bakery again just yet, what with business licenses and all that hoopla, but I wanted to. Besserman wasn’t here, and if he was, I wouldn’t roll over and take whatever he dished out anymore. Max, Lex, Gale, Cendy, and so many others were picking up the pieces of my shattered confidence and painstakingly helping me glue them back together.
I scanned the front of the bakery, complete with a few charming black and white tables and chairs along the wall. The massive display case spanned the majority of the space in front of us. With a few updates, My Batter Half could become the cutest bakery in Detroit. Maybe not the most elegant, since Priscilla’s snooty bakery took the cake on that one, but definitely the cutest.
I’d revamp the lighting, so it was more soft and cozy and less operating suite fluorescent, repaint the walls to enhance the dusty pink and replace the white with dove gray. I’d capitalize on the punny and romantic name, adding fun names to the specials, drinks, and desserts. Couples here on a date could get a free or discounted dessert to encourage more customers. Hearts or polka dots—tastefully done, of course—could make nice accents. Upgrading the espresso machine and drink options could really kick it up a notch, too.
And that was just the beginning.
An idea scratched at the back of my mind, one I’d been beating away with a spatula for months now. Maybe I could do it after all.
Iwantedto do it.
I turned my attention back to Gale, who’d begun polishing the glass on the display case. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but when exactly are you thinking of retiring?”
twenty-six
WhenKrishadsaideverything would turn out okay, this wasn’t what I had in mind.
The girls’ night group milled about in the grassy clearing around me, along with the only other female agent on Lex’s squad. Woods lined the dirt road and clearing, stretching to cover the rest of the square mile piece of land one of Hattie’s friends owned outside the city. Kris’ minivan, which we’d all carpooled here in, sat at the end of the dirt road. All good, neutral things.
Thedresswas the issue.
As far as loose interpretations of the word “okay” went, my get-up wasn’tbad, mind you. Of all the bridesmaids, I certainly didn’t end up with the craziest dress. But would I voluntarily wear this for any occasion other than Lex’s bachelorette party?
I’d sooner cold-call the doctor’s office.
On the plus side, I finally had a dress to match my music taste. The sleeves of my dress poofed up around the shoulders before fitting to my arms down to three-quarters of the way down. It had a neckline that hit right at the base of my neck with a V-shaped embellishment of lace that pointed toward the sweetheart shape of the fake neckline further down my chest, leaving my collarbones exposed under nearly-transparent mesh.
Scandalous, I know.
But the fun didn’t stop there. Under the beaded waist that hugged my tummy and hips a little too tightly for my comfort, the blindingly white skirt bubbled and ruffled like the shoulders of the sleeves all the way down to the floor.
Oh, and did I mention it was a wedding dress?
A Goodwill wedding dress, but one all the same. In fact, all of the bachelorette party was decked out in varying shapes and cuts and decades of thrift store wedding dresses. Annie had a Victorian-era monstrosity that left literally everything to the imagination, especially on her petite frame. Rowan, from Lex’s squad, wore what could only be described as an Elven warrior’s wedding dress, complete with forest green embroidered embellishments and a hood. Kris had lucked out with a fluttery dress with lace cascades and fringe embellishments. Kind of like what you’d expect a Bohemian flapper would wear, which was only reinforced by Kris’ veil of choice: a headband with a shock of tulle at the back. Basically it was like her head had a really weird garter, but she made it work.
Hattie’s dress was possibly the wildest, with a bow so big on the back that it had its own zip code. The rest of the teacup-like skirt looked like the monster bow had spawned a mini bow army with small forts holding pinches of fabric hostage. To make matters worse, she sported even poofier sleeves than mine, complete with their own little bows like vaguely threatening mistletoe adorning her shoulders. In lieu of a veil, she’d tied her voluminous curls back with a white bow, which was only fitting.
Finally, the woman of the hour looked amazing, like always. Lex’s dark curls contrasted the white fabric beautifully, her eyes radiating excitement like glowing jade stones. Her dress, reminiscent of prom circa 2010, consisted of a halter top with long silk gloves and beaded embellishments up the bodice. Like Annie and me, Lex had foregone a veil.
“I already love this,” Lex gushed, beaming at our ragtag group of fashion faux pas. “I’m not entirely sure what we’re doingherein wedding dresses, but I’m down for whatever.”
I exchanged a knowing look with Hattie, my stomach tumbling like tennis shoes in a dryer from excitement. Lex, of course, didn’t know what was in store, so taking Kris’ minivan full of women clad in wedding dresses out to a remote, wooded property seemed strange at best, sketchy at worst.
“Just wait until the men show up.” Hattie winked, grinning devilishly.
