AllFreeNovel
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He would have fit quite nicely into that era, those clothes working well on his frame. And the way it felt to be pressed up against him for the photos as I was wearing that low-cut dress with those ridiculous ringlets in my hair?
I thought I’d be embarrassed. I thought I’d feel silly.
But because of the way he looked at me, I felt . . . strong.
In my whole life, I don’t think I’ve ever been looked at like that. And, in response, I felt . . . things. Things that were totally against my will.
Which is completely unacceptable.
I force him out of my mind as I reach the back door of the bakeshop. The snow from yesterday didn’t stick, but there are still some fingerlings of frost on the windows. Since Shorty’s is open later now, I don’t come in until the morning’s warmed up a little. Danene still comes in early to make all the bread. But Camilla and me? We get the luxurious time of nine a.m.
Except, I’ve already been up a couple of hours, trying to get some work done for the festival—my skin tingles with pride at that thought. I’ve been compiling some graphics for their website in an attempt at a total rebrand. We have to separate ourselves from the old Carl-and-Amanda days.
Doesn’t mean I didn’t love sliding on the classic Christmas blazer for the first time. It fit me like a glove, like I somehowknewit would. We might be trying to update the festival, but I’ll never advocate for getting rid of the blazers. Never.
Camilla grins from ear to ear when I walk into Shorty’s industrial, recently remodeled kitchen. “So? How was dressing up yesterday?”
“Have you ever had to wear a corset?”
She washes her hands. “I have. Not that I’d want to again. There’s a reason why our Victorian dresses for the festival have been more the third-class variety. Ain’t nobody got time for corsets!”
“I don’t have time or energy for them, but I had to wear one yesterday and I about died,” I tell her, pulling up a selfie I took in the mirror in the photo studio dressing room.
She screams and her mouth drops open. “You look—” She stops herself and shakes her head, a grin taking over her expression.
“You sound like Theo yesterday.” I say with a snort. “Speechless.”
Part of me sort of loved that he liked what he saw. I don’t care what he thinks of me—far from it. But my petty, immature self likes that he thought I looked pretty in that red velvet.
“Enchanting,” as he called it. Which is satisfying in some odd way. It shouldn’t be. Theo’s a womanizer—attracted to anything that moves.
The whole thing was interesting—the way his arm felt around me as we posed for the camera. Theo’s touch was a bowl of cream for a half-starved kitten.
“You look hot,” Camilla says, donning her hair net and head band. “I’m not surprised Theo was speechless.”
Her teasing smile makes me groan.
I slide my phone in my pocket and turn on the hot water at the sink. “Not like that. I think we were both surprised that our clothing actually looked okay. I don’t know what the committee is going to do with all those photos. I feel like they own us.” I shake my head. “Speaking of the committee, you would not believe their complex underworld. Camilla, it’s like a whole, secret society. “
Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairnet. “I love a good conspiracy theory. Is Liz Langer a witch in real life?”
I laugh. “No. And I didn’t get the sense there are conspiracies going on, but there is the scandal they hope disappears. And they are hardcore. This festival is their life, which I sort of love.”
“I always knew something about Carl and Amanda was off.”
“I’m not supposed to say anything.” I hedge, knowing I’m going to anyway. It’s Camilla.
I dry my hands with a paper towel and tell her the latest, that Shoes and Dues is being investigated by the police department. I explain that, despite the overall tone of smarminess Carl and Amanda exuded as they kept such a large percentage of the donations, they might not have actually broken the law.
“Their charity’s 401C documents state clearly that Carl and Amanda will get such a high percentage of the donations to distribute how they see fit, which protects them.”
“Still. It’s not okay that they saw fit to pad their own wallets without being upfront about what they were doing,” Camilla says.
“Yes.” I tie my apron snugly around my middle. “And the festival is what New Hedge is known for, so Carl and Amanda’s actions reflect poorly on the whole thing,” I say. I readjust my hair net and bright pink and orange head wrap. “I’m still wondering about how this whole co-host thing works. We’re the face of the festival this year.”
“Let me know how I can help. And if you need to take time off . . .”
She tapers her words and I know what she’s thinking, that this is the busiest time of year for Shorty’s Bakeshop. We not only have a lot to do to get ready for our own booth at the festival, but it’s shortbread season. With cheesecakes to make, my busyness is going to be difficult for her.
