Page 54 of The Sebastian Guarantee
She smiled, and damn if it wasn’t the smile that only seemed to bloom for him. “No, I’m not laughing about the words. I just remembered another secret we’ve kept from Aria and Oscar since our college days.”
He leaned toward her. “What secret?”
“The grand cake debacle,” she announced dramatically.
Straightaway, his anxiety eased as he recalled what she was talking about. “Oh, yes, the time when we decided to bake Aria and Oscar a big-ass cake since their birthdays are only a few days apart.” He relaxed into his seat and chuckled. “You know, the grand cake debacle was ninety-nine percent your fault.”
She gasped and swatted his forearm. “It was not. I had my earbuds in and was happily icing their birthday cake, listening to music and getting my cake groove on, when you snuck up behind me and scared the living shit out of me.”
His chuckle evolved into a full belly laugh. “You spun around and knocked the whole damned cake onto the floor. The chocolate was everywhere, and oh my God, your expression. You were so freaked out.”
“My expression?” she tossed back. “You’d gone as white as a ghost and had guilt written all over your face.”
There had been a reason he’d looked like that, but it wasn’t what she thought. The real reason had nothing to do with cake. But now wasn’t the time to divulge that information. He forced himself back into best friend mode. “Maybe that’s true. But who solved our problem?” he asked, taking on a cocky edge and pointing to himself so there could be no doubt as to who had saved the day.
That got him another playful slap. “No way! I got us out of that mess.”
“What?” he exclaimed. “I went to Cupid Bakery and picked up another cake.”
“You did, but . . .” she snapped in that school marm-y tone that never boded well for him.
He reared back. “But what?”
“But,I had the presence of mind to take a knife and mess up the frosting to give it an authentic, made by Sebby and Pheebs feel.” Her expression grew pensive. She glanced down at her dress, toyed with a bead, then met his gaze. “Are we okay, Seb?”
Emotion welled in his chest, and he took her hand. “We’ll always be okay. You’re my best friend. And we’re in creative mode. Remember, it’s like you said: we’re in a safe place to hone skills where nothing counts.” He’d spoken the truth. Still, he hated the way that last part sounded.
She gave his hand a weak squeeze, then slipped from his grip. “Nothing counts,” she repeated, her voice losing the bubbly quality he adored.
A heavy silence fell between them, and he cleared his throat. “We should get a move on.” Not sure how they’d gone from awkward to comfortable and back to awkward again, he shifted the Jeep into drive and followed the gravel road toward the lodge.
It only took a few minutes to get there. He stopped the car beneath the building’s rustic porte cochere, pulled the lever to pop the back hatch, then got out and jogged over to the passenger side. He opened the door for Phoebe as an older woman with rosy cheeks, donning a wooly cardigan, and a slim young man in jeans and a flannel, pushing a luggage cart, emerged from the lodge.
“Welcome to Glenn Pines,” she said, ambling slowly as the man zipped by with the rattling cart. “I’m Mae Edwards, the owner. You must be Phoebe Gale and Sebastian Cress.”
“Yes, that’s us,” Phoebe answered, slipping on the pink heels, then grabbing her purse before Sebastian helped her out of the car.
“You’re the last to arrive,” Mae explained, handing them each a lanyard with their name andinnovatorwritten on a card tucked in a clear plastic sleeve. “Go ahead and put those on. The LETIS cocktail hour is taking place at the old boathouse by the lake. They seem to be running a bit behind schedule, so I don’t believe you’ve missed anything yet.” She gestured toward a large structure with twinkling lights that looked more like a grand lakeside pavilion than a musty old boathouse. “I’ll have my grandson Bruce bring your bags to your room.”
The young man nodded.
“You meanrooms,” Phoebe clarified, teetering as she took a step in the sky-high heels.
And dammit, he’d forgotten that he’d have to build in some time for her to practice walking in stilettos.
Mae shared a look with Bruce, then waved for him to bring the bags inside. She folded her hands in front of her. “We’re in the middle of renovating the rooms on the east side of the lodge.”
“I’m not sure I’m following you,” Sebastian said.
“I must have misunderstood when you called to confirm, Mr. Cress,” the owner began. “I got the impression you and Miss Gale were attending together, which was fortunate because you were also the last to confirm you were coming. You were able to secure our last room.”
Phoebe wobbled, then clutched his arm to remain upright. “You only have one room available?”
“One room, two keys,” the woman crooned, producing the bits of metal from her wooly pocket. She looked between them, eyeing them closely. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”
He glanced at Phoebe. Rocking a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression, her thoughts were plain to him.
So much for keeping it professional.
