Page 64 of Holly Jolly Cake Fight
Manon was there already. According tomaman, she went in early every day. Something was weighing on her, supposedly, one more problem that needed to be finessed out and solved.
Take a number, Manon.
That was pre-coffee grouch talking. They glared at each other from across the bakery while Manon piped out choux pastry and Laurin fired up the espresso machine. They glared at each other while Manon accepted the double espresso from him. Manon softened to a relaxed, casual expression, and Laurin glared as he set his macchiato on the workbench and turned off the Hobart so he could whisk up the Swiss meringue buttercream by hand. How unforgivably stupid of Manon to waste what little life they had left in that Hobart on buttercream.
But then he had a sip of his macchiato, and then another, and another, until it finally cooled the critical degrees he needed to slug it back. In another couple minutes, he realized that Manon hadn’t known he’d be coming in this morning with the need to work out some frustration. If she needed help, he would be a jerknotto help her.
He didn’t say anything immediately. He wasn’t sure if he should say anything at all. That was oftentimes the best way to go about it. But then he recalled how saying nothing certainlyhadn’t kept Candace in his bed, so he may as well try talking this time around. “Mamansaid—”
“Did you and Candace have a good night?” Manon blurted out over him, plowing right through with, “It sounded like you had a good night,” before Laurin had a chance to take over.
“Oh Lord,” Laurin muttered. “Never let her know you heard us. She’ll die of embarrassment.”
Manon giggled and lobbed a pinch of brioche dough at him on her way to the ancient rack oven that had been installed long before their family had acquired the bakery. “Silly. I didn’t hear that, but thanks for confirming my suspicions. I just heard her leave her room late, figured she was going to join you. Did you have a good night? I was hoping to get a chance to bake with her. Should I assume you wore her out too much to get her out of bed this morning?”
Laurin clucked his tongue. “A gentleman never tells, but we had an excellent evening.”
Manon shot him a coy side-eye as she slid her tray of cream puffs in and retrieved a tray of macarons. They were a creamy peach studded with candy pearls, nothing he’d ever made before, but Manon liked to experiment when she was stateside, and no one stopped her. “Oh? The poor thing has likely never been seduced by a Frenchman before. Did you make promises you’ve no intention of keeping?” She set down her tray, dropped her mitts, and headed for the door with a playful flounce of her custom apron. “I should probably warn her before—”
She squeaked as Laurin snagged her by the waist and bodily carried her back to the work bench, where he plopped her in front of her macarons.
“You finish whatever those are,” he said, pointing his finger at the swirled, sparkly puffs.
She rolled her eyes and retrieved a bucket from the low-boy. “They’re unicorn snot.”
“Sweet baby Jesus, Manon.”
“Mamanlet me write that on the sign and everything. They’ve been selling like hotcakes. Which is crazy, because the hotcakes aren’t moving at all.”
Laurin didn’t humor her joke and wasn’t about to ask what unicorn snot was. If they sold and he didn’t have to make them, it wasn’t his business unless he got stuck working the counter. “And you’re not warning Candace of anything. I intend to keep every promise I’ve made her.”
Manon’s expertly groomed brow perked up. “You’ve made her promises?”
“Of a fashion.” Just not in a language she’d understand. But that didn’t mean he was going to take them any less seriously.
Manon stared him down, even setting her piping bag down so she could cross her arms over her chest and really nail the look. Laurin continued to whisk the buttercream, not about to break for her. Finally, she huffed and said, “I like her. Dammit. I wanted to hate her, but I can’t.Mamanlikes her, and Vivvy likes her, and she’s really sweet and not at all like she is on TV, and that was really kind of her to bail you out on your lame cookies. Dammit.”
Laurin grinned brightly, thankful that everyone had met Candace after Cookie Week instead of Tree Week. “It was, wasn’t it? She was so prickly in the beginning, but she can’t help but be good. And she’s been hurt before. A lot.” He turned his attentionto icing, taking the coward’s way out as he put false bluster in his voice to say, “So you’re going to play nice when I get her back. I mean it.”
Manon cleared her throat sharply. “What do you mean, get her back?”
“She left this morning. You are absolutely not going to make a big fuss, Manon.” He met her eye so she could see how serious he was when he said, “I mean it. She’s sensitive, and she’s hurt, and she’s scared to trust anyone. I am going to get her back, and when I do, I will not stand for anyone being rude to her for leaving. Especially her sister-in-law.”
Manon couldn’t maintain her scowl. She could only say, as gently and supportively as possible, “Are you sure you want this?”
“I love her.”
“You hardly know her.”
Laurin snorted. “Does that matter? When you know, you know, right?” Manon had said that to him once.
Manon pursed her lips and pulled them to the side like she had something to say but didn’t know if she could. His words had triggered something bad.
“Mamansays there’s something wrong. There is, isn’t there?”
She deflated slightly, but she was nothing if not indefatigable. She fluffed herself back up and said, “Hugo and I have called it off. I’m taking a leave of absence until the beginning of the year. I was going to travel, but I’ve decided to stay here through the holidays. We need butter.” She’d started off weak and unsure, but she ended with a lofty, regal toneand a dramatic twist to the cooler, where she marched with an upturned nose. Manon spoke, and so it was.
Was this something she had decided only a moment ago, in a streak of sisterly support? Laurin hoped so. It would be a shame if she attempted to show that Candace was a bad call and he had to prove her wrong.
