Beach Wedding (11 page)

I watch her flirt, leaning in to point out something in the plans,
and running her hand up his arm. I feel a bolt of jealousy that
doesn’t make any sense. He doesn’t belong to me; he
hasn’t for years. And looking like that, there’s no way
he’s spent the past decade single. There have probably been
tons of women. Mega-tons of them, all lined up around the block for a
guy like him.

Luke laughs at something Marcie says. He’s smiling, all easy
charm as she steers him across the lawn.

Does he like her, too?

I realize I’m gripping my folder hard enough to leave nail
marks. There’s no way I can stand around here and watch them
flirt all day, so I check my to-do list. ‘CAKE!!’ is
circled in red with big arrows, so I figure I better make myself
useful, and get something done instead of staring at Luke looking
like a cold drink of water on a hot summer’s day.

Cake it is.

It’s part of my job to be able to track down the best florists,
bakers, and string quartets within a hundred miles of any given
wedding location. Pelican Key Cove isn’t exactly the home of
haute cuisine, but I need a wedding cake baker who can not only whip
up an amazing centerpiece for the big day, but manage desserts for
the rehearsal dinner and take-home party favors, all with Nick and
Neil filming their every move. Theo’s been researching places
nearby and drew me up a shortlist. First on the list is a cake shop
out in Key West that’s been getting rave reviews, so I program
in the address and hit the highway again.

Out here, there’s only one way to get around: the Overseas
Highway running the length of the keys, stringing together the tiny
islands in a long chain. When I was growing up, I hated that there
was only two destinations: north towards the tip of Florida, or south
until the pale asphalt ran out in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico.
Luke would always laugh at how stir-crazy I got. “Where else do
you need to go?” he’d tease, but the answer was,
everywhere
. I loved the idea of getting in my car and driving
in a dozen different directions, to a hundred new possibilities. It
made sense that I’d make my home in New York City in the end,
the place of a hundred different cultures, where every block is like
visiting a new town.

I wonder if Luke ever traveled, or if he stayed put in Pelican Key
Cove this whole time.

I make a noise of frustration and turn the radio up, trying to drown
out the thoughts of him. I was fine back home in the city, I barely
thought of him at all. Well, except those late nights, all alone in
bed. Or whenever a particularly cute couple came to me, brimming over
with excitement about their wedding plans…

Fine, he crossed my mind occasionally, but it was always some vague
figment, a memory of him at eighteen, not this flesh-and-blood grown
man who keeps standing in front of me these days – looking so
damn good, reminding me of everything I walked away from all those
years ago.

I just have to make it through this wedding, I tell myself. Just a
couple more weeks, and then I’ll be gone for good.

Again.

Somehow, that thought isn’t a comfort. Luckily, I’m
nearing my destination. I look around as I cruise through town,
noticing the laid-back Florida vibe: tourists and their beach gear, a
whole cluster of stores selling Tiki lamps, pool inflatables, and big
straw hats.

Rock n Roll Cakes is situated down a cute side street, lined with
palm trees and candy-colored storefronts. I pull over in front of the
brightest on the block: decorated in a fondant yellow paint with a
bright white trim. The window is full of delicious-looking cakes, and
my stomach rumbles. I realize I haven’t eaten anything since
morning. It’s a good thing cake tasting is all part of the job!

Inside, a bell dings as I step through the door. I look around. The
shop has a retro flair: black and white chequerboard tile on the
floor and vintage red leather booths along one wall. The display
cabinet takes up the whole back of the shop, and my mouth is watering
by the time I get close enough to look.

Powder-dusted lemon cakes, three-layer chocolate gateaux, and
cupcakes as far as the eye can see: red velvet, vanilla, coconut and
more. This place is perfect! I already know Marcie will love it. And
who knows, maybe the baker will be willing to let them film here,
too. I know Pixie and Clyde would have a blast trying to bake their
own cake.

“Be right with you!” A woman’s voice comes from the
back. “I just need to get this soufflé in the oven.”
There’s a pause, and then the doors swing open and a woman
backs into the show, carrying a tray of cupcakes. “You’ve
got to be careful, or those things never rise. And we all know limp
is never a good look. Now, what can I get you?”

The woman turns, and her smile fades. “Ginny?”

I can’t believe it. It’s like I’m staring at a
ghost. “Jules?”

My old partner in crime. My former best friend. But right now, she’s
looking anything but friendly.

“Oh my god!” I exclaim, “I can’t believe it!
I read about this place online, and I only came by out of chance, but
look at you! You’re Rock n Roll cakes? Of course,” I
laugh. “Rockwell. This is amazing, how have you been?”

“Fine,” Jules answers coolly. Her dark hair is longer
now, pulled up in a messy bun. She’s wearing a retro polka-dot
apron and red lipstick. She busies herself transferring the cake into
the display case. “Would you like anything to taste?”

I pause, thrown. “Umm, sure. I’m actually looking for a
wedding cake baker. Do you do those?”

“I can.” Jules is still giving me that wary look.
“Depends on the client, and if I have enough prep time.”

“This is going to be a tight one,” I tell her. “We
need it in two weeks. But it’s for Pixie Dalton-Ross and Clyde
Kincaid.”

Jules’s cold expression drops for a minute. “
Park
Avenue Princesses
?” she yelps. “No freaking way!”

“Yes freaking way.” I smile, glad to have melted the ice.
“I’m planning their wedding. It’s a big TV show
thing back home in Pelican Key Cove. It’s crazy, but I promise
they’ll pay well. Plus, it’ll be a ton of great promotion
for the store.”

Jules looks away. “So this isn’t a social visit then. I
should have guessed you wouldn’t come back of your own accord.”

I stop, awkward.

“We’ll need to do a tasting, for them to pick the one
they like,” Jules says briskly, all business. “I can make
five different samples. You think that would be enough?”

“I… Yes, that sounds great.” I’m still
off-balance, trying to get my head around this new Jules. We used to
be best friends, closer than anything, and now she’s acting
like a total stranger. “I can email any dietary restrictions
and things you need to know.”

Jules snorts. “Sorry, but I don’t do that gluten-free
low-carb thing. It’s sugar and cream and butter in this
kitchen. If they don’t like that, then tough.”

“They’ll deal,” I say, thinking of the fight ahead.

“You can take a box, it’ll give you the basics for now.”
Jules packs up a few cupcakes into a bright red pastry box and
thrusts it into my hand. “So just take a card, and let me know
when you want to set up the appointment.” She turns away,
bustling around the back counter. Class dismissed.

I know I should go now, but I loiter in the middle of the floor. This
is all wrong.

“Jules?” I wait. “Jules,” I try again, and
she finally turns.

“What?” she demands, and I’m shocked to see tears
in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

She swipes angrily at her face. “Nothing. My allergies are
playing up. Now can you just go?”

“But why? Jules,” I say, anxious. “Tell me what’s
going on. Why are you acting this way?”

“Me?” Jules’s jaw drops. “Are you freaking
kidding me right now?”

“I… no?” I’m totally confused.

“You left!” she explodes, stalking around the front of
the counter. “You took off in the middle of the night, and
never even said goodbye. I was your best friend, dammit; we were like
sisters. I know you were just trying to make a break from Luke, but
you left me behind too!”

I stare at Jules, feeling like the worst friend in the entire
universe. “Jules…”

“No, I’m fine.” She pulls herself back together.
“Really. It doesn’t matter that you took off like that,
ditched our summer plans to travel. Do you remember? We were going to
take a road trip all the way to California. We’d been planning
it for months, and then I woke up on graduation day and found you’d
gone without me.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I protest. “I know I
should have told you. But I didn’t plan it that way at all.”

“You just woke up in the middle of the night and thought, ‘hey,
how about I bail on everyone who loves me.”

Jules’s jaw is set in angry determination. I have to hold back
the tears. “I called you, I emailed; I didn’t just
disappear. You were the one who stopped calling me back. I tried to
stay friends, you know I did.”

“It wasn’t the same.” Jules says, and I can see the
betrayal on her face, still fresh after all these years. “You
were off, busy with your new life. It felt like you didn’t care
about me anymore.”

“I’m sorry.” Now I’m crying too. “You
know I never meant to hurt you. I just had to get out of here before
I lost the nerve completely. You know Luke was talking about getting
married, settling down. I loved him so much. I knew if he asked, it
would be too late. I would have stayed.”

Jules sniffles. “You were off having amazing adventures, and I
was working at the Quick-n-Pick to make money for college. Even if
you had to leave Luke, I couldn’t believe you would leave me
behind, too.”

“I’m sorry!” I wail. “I was so messed up. I
didn’t know what to do. I know I made a mistake. I’m so
sorry I hurt you.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Jules starts to cry. “I’m
the one who blocked you out in the end. I know you tried to stay in
contact. I was just too mad to forgive you.”

There’s a pause, and then we grab each other in a big hug. I
hold her tightly. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too.”

Ding
!

The door opens, and a middle-aged man walks in. “I need some
cupcakes—”

“Are you serious?” Jules cuts him off. “Can’t
you see we’re in the middle of something here?”

The man takes in our tear-soaked faces and running mascara. “I’ll,
um, comes back another time,” he says, slowly backing out of
the door like he’s escaping a wild animal.

Jules and I look at each other, and laugh. “Dammit.” She
wipes her face. “He was probably going to order two dozen. He
had that panicked father late for a birthday party look about him.”

“Don’t worry, Marcie and the TV production will pay
through the roof. I’ll make sure of it.” I step away, and
try to find a tissue in my purse.

Jules lets out a sigh. “I need a drink. And some cake. Do you
have time, or do you need to get back?” she asks.

“For you, always,” I vow. Fate, and wedding cake, have
delivered my best friend back to me. There’s not way I’m
going to screw this up again. “We’ve got ten years to
catch up on.”

Jules laughs. “I better bring the bottle.”

Jules grabs some wine from the kitchen fridge, and puts together a
whole platter of cakes. “Official tasting business, of course,”
she winks, leading me up a staircase at the back of the kitchen. On
the first floor, there’s a door to an apartment. “Don’t
look,” Jules says, still climbing. “It’s a total
mess.”

“Glad to see some things haven’t changed,” I tease.

“Except now that I’m a functioning adult, I can pay a
cleaning service.” She winks.

On top of the building, there’s a flat roof that Jules has
transformed into a cute, eclectic garden. Colorful ceramic tubs are
filled with cacti and succulents, and there’s a bright woven
rug and a couple of old lawn chairs under the shade of a fringed
umbrella. A couple of blocks away, the blue ocean sparkles. “I
love it!” I exclaim, looking around.

“You should see the fireworks on the fourth of July,”
Jules says, kicking back in one of the chairs. “Best view on
the Keys.”

I take a seat and hold out my glass for her to pour the wine. “Just
one,” I warn her. “I’m driving home.”

Jules pours all the way to the brim. “You can crash here. If
you can find the couch under all my crap, that is.”

I laugh and lift my glass in a toast. “To reunions,” I
say. She taps hers to mine. “And second chances,” I add.
“Seriously, I’m so happy to see you again. And I can’t
believe the bakery; it looks amazing. I should have known you’d
wind up doing something like this. You always loved baking. You
managed to get half your grades raised just bringing the teachers
those amazing brownies at the end of every semester.”

Jules grins. “Remember when Mr Finnigan suggested I add
something ‘special’ to the mix for him?”

I gasp. “Oh my god. That’s right! You just baked a
regular batch—”

“And charged him double!” Jules laughs. “He was
staring at the walls all afternoon, thinking he was high.”

I shake my head, loving the memories. “It was a fun time. So
what did you do after high school?”

“Hung around Pelican Key for a while.” Jules kicks off
her shoes. “I didn’t really know what I wanted to do just
yet, but culinary school seemed better than being stuck in a library
for another four years. So I saved up enough and moved to Miami for a
few years. Partied too much, kissed a lot of frogs. I worked in some
kitchens and catering companies, then figured I could do a better job
of it myself, so I decided to move back here and start my cupcake
empire.”

“It looks like it’s going well for you. I’m so
glad. You deserve it.”

“I do, don’t I?” Jules grins, contented, and I
laugh.