Page 91 of Games We Play
“I don’t know who is requesting these things,” Enid said Friday morning, “but here you go, Leah. A sheet cake is needed by the end of the day. Grab the spare vanilla one in the fridge and get to work. Looks like you’ve got quite a bit of creative leeway, so it should be right up your alley. I’ve gotta get back up to the front.”
Leah grabbed the order sheet and glanced at Gina, who shrugged and went back to the birthday cookies she was charged with that day.
Something niggled at the back of Leah’s mind as she pulled out one of the spare sheet cakes they kept for last-minute orders. Yet this was different. Not only did they not care about the shape or the flavor of the cake, but there were no notes on the frosting. The only thing the customer wanted was a certain phrase written on top of the cake.
It looked like a poem.“In the Hollow in Which You Live, Deliver Me to Vengeance.”
“What the fuck,” Gina said, when she took a break from her own work to poke around Leah’s. Half of the message was written onto the cake already, but Gina had to grab the order form to understand why everyone scratched their heads. “Is this like a clue or something?”
“A clue for what?”
“Dunno. All I know is that whenever I see ‘Hollow,’ I always think of Goose Hollow. Hey, isn’t that where you live?”
Leah put down her piping bag. “It’s a coincidence.”
“I guess.” Gina turned back to her cookies. “Didn’t that girlfriend of yours order something to send you a message before?”
That’s what Leah didn’t want to think about. It didn’t help that Enid didn’t have a name to go with the order – as long as they paid, she didn’t give a shit. Sloanalsohad done something cutesy like that before. It wouldn’t be beyond her to do it again.
Please, don’t…Leah wasn’t sure if she was more bothered by it being Sloan, ornother. She hadn’t once tried to contact Leah since she left Chicago. No texts, no missed calls, and definitely no intermediaries, human or pastry.
It didn’t help that Leah knew what Vengeance meant. That was the name of a closed-up clothing boutique in her neighborhood. Some gothic, edgy style Leah knew nothing about – and apparently, most of Portland no longer cared about, since the store closed two years after opening. The storefront had remained shuttered since then. Prime real estate, really, since it was between a hip café and a used bookstore, but the owners wanted top asking price. Or so Leah heard through the neighborhood grapevine.
She finished the project and approached Enid with a proposal. “Let me make the delivery,” she said. “It’s my neighborhood, so I might know the people it’s for. Human connection, you know?”
Enid crossed her arms, as if she wasn’t sure what to make of Leah’s uncharacteristic attitude toward putting that human touch in everything they did. “I don’t have anything else for you to do, so go knock yourself out. Be back in time to help me close up.”
Leah gathered her jacket with that fake smile still plastered on her face. Gina peeked into the staff room with two thumbs up – as if this has anything to do with… whatever!
“I’ll be back.” Leah picked up the delicate cake and headed toward the door. “Don’t hold your breath for me, though.”
She took the same route to Vengeance that she did going home every day. Only now she had a cake tucked beneath her arm, and she needed to make sure it didn’t get messed up on the long walk. In case it was arealorder, after all. With Leah’s luck, this was all in her head and some poor customer at the old, dilapidated store wanted to play a trick on someone.
Leah wasn’t dumb enough to think she’d find Sloan waiting for her. She didn’t know what – or who – to expect. Certainly not a woman dressed in business wear and glued to her phone. Not a woman who grinned like she had won the lottery when Leah turned the corner to her neighborhood and approached the boutique.
“You must be Leah Vaughn!” The petite woman clapped her hands as soon as she put her phone away. “Is that the cake I was told about? Come inside!”
That was all she said before unlocking the darkened door to Vengeance. Leah entered with trepidation, the sheet cake box balanced delicately between her hands.
There was no party inside. Nobody celebrated the opening or the closing of the store, and nobody jumped out to yellsurprise!All Leah saw was the softly illuminated interior of a store in great need of remodeling. The businesswoman pulled a card out of her purse and handed it to Leah, who had put the cake down on a small table.
“Rachel Ernst, Real Estate Agent.”Leah looked up at the woman.
“You’re going to want to cut yourself a slice of that cake, Leah!” Rachel looked as if she were about to start singingHappy Birthdaytwo months too late. “I can’t believe I’m the one who gets to tell you the good news!”
“What are you talking about?”
Rachel must not have received many opportunities to gush to random people she pulled off the street, because Leah had never seen a woman so incapable of keeping a secret inside her puffing chipmunk cheeks. “This place is foryou!”
“Come again?”
The more Rachel talked, the more unbelievable she sounded. It didn’t help that Leah was in such shock that the thought ofanythingbeing for her right now was beyond her ability to fathom. “Someone must really love you, Ms. Vaughn, because one of my clients has not only purchased this space, but is paying to have it converted into a boutique bakery. For you.”
“For me?”
“That’s right. As soon as you sign a few papers, this will belong to you.” Rachel opened her arms to encompass the size of the small boutique. “I’m told you’re quite the accomplished baker waiting for her next big break. I understand. It’s a tough real estate economy right now. Rentals, renovations… but you don’t have to worry about any of that, because the deed to this place will soon be in your name. We only need you to take ownership, so we can have you officially sign off on the renovations you want. Much easier that way.”
Leah continued to gaze at the real estate agent as if she had lost her damned mind. “You must be kidding. Is this a prank?” She opened the top of the cake box. Whatever pride she felt for not marring a single speck of frosting was soon doused when she looked outside the window.
