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We’d been best friends since the first grade when my parents moved to this small town after my dad decided not to reenlist in the army. He hung up his army fatigues for a hard hat and joined my grandpa’s construction company. With Grandpa long gone, Dad was the man who called all the shots.
“Did Laurent and Phoebe decide on their cake?” Sherry asked.
“Sure did. They went with my design.”
“I knew they would. I told you it was exactly what Phoebe was looking for.” Phoebe had changed her mind about four times since that first tasting. She and Laurent were finally getting married after a complicated two decades, and she wanted everything right. I didn’t blame her. You only got married once.
Well, only once to the same person.
Actually, nope, that wasn’t true either. I’d made plenty of wedding cakes for divorced couples who decided to give their marriage another go.
Love was as complicated and as beautiful as Nero.
Heat filled my cheeks at the thought, and I quickly turned toward my car. “I’m heading home for some reruns of Sex and the City and a bowl of popcorn. You in?” I’d watched all the serial killer documentaries and had been watching Sex and the City while I waited for a new docuseries to release.
“Sure. I just need to grab my bag and finish up a few things here. Can I meet you at your place?”
“No, you have to leave right now,” I deadpanned, and Sherry shoved my shoulder.
“Shut up,” she said with a laugh.
“Lainey, Sherry,” a familiar sing-song voice came from behind us.
“Odette, five o’clock,” Sherry whispered before throwing her hand in the air and waving.
I turned and smiled at the sixty-plus-year-old woman coming our way in her orthopedic cork wedges—that were actually really cute—paired well with her navy-blue capris and top with blue and white flower embroidery. She loved a matching set. Odette also loved makeup as much as she loved gossip. Her blue eye shadow extended to her eyebrows and her pink lipstick crossed the barriers of her lips, creating a new clown like smile.
Most people thought she looked pretty ridiculous, but I thought it fit her personality—bright and colorful. While many people whispered behind her back, which was rude in itself, no one ever had the heart to say it to her face. Other than Albert, but he was mean to everyone, and Odette always brushed him off.
“Hi Odette.” I flashed her a smile, and she returned it with a lipstick smudged one of her own.
“It’s good to see you,” Sherry said.
“You as well,” Odette offered, but her eyes locked on mine. “Is it true?”
My eyebrows pulled together, confusion running through me. God only knew what she was talking about. She probably heard something from somebody who heard from someone else. But I was as nosy as the rest of them. “Is what true?”
“You and Nero are together,” she said, and Sherry’s laugh was like a sonic boom, electrifying the night. I didn’t know whether to be insulted or impressed.
“Odette, where did you hear that nonsense?” Sherry asked.
“Oh, I didn’t hear it. I saw it with my own two eyes. Right there in the tasting room. Your best friend and your brother were lip locked like they were giving each other CPR.
Sherry’s eyes flew wide, before blinking in rapid succession. If I hadn’t known her my whole life, I’d think she was a malfunctioning cyborg. “Come again.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to downplay this revelation. “It was nothing.”
“But you did kiss? You kissed Nero,” Sherry stated.
“Yes, but only because Nero had a woman who wouldn’t leave him alone, so I told her to leave my boyfriend alone and to seal the lie, he…” My hands fluttered about as if they were trying to catch the right words and put them in my mouth. “He kissed me. See. No big deal. Just a little show for an unwanted tourist.”
“Unwanted tourist? Don’t paint the woman as the villain. He does this to himself.”
“He tried to reject her nicely multiple times,” I defended.
“Well darn,” Odette said. “I thought we’d have another wedding in our future.”
This time my laugh rang out across the parking lot. “That is never going to happen.”
