Emma: Lights! Camera! Cupcakes! (10 page)

I turned back to Katie and George, the popcorn people, and got them a little back on track. They'd been chatting so much that the popcorn was sticking together and was extra lumpy, and they'd sprayed them unevenly. Boy, being a manager was hard work! I was wishing I'd had just a small focused task to do instead. I guess this is
what being a movie producer feels like!

Pretty soon, I noticed everyone looking at the clock or their watches or phones. It was five fifteen, and we were due to leave for the premiere at six.

My dad arrived and complimented us on the cupcakes and said he was ready to drive at anytime. As it turned out, the boys wanted to come, too, and it would be a tight squeeze in our van, so my mom offered to drive her car too. We'd all go. A caravan. Oh goody! Not.

Finally, we packed the cupcakes—lumpy, kind of cute, definitely homemade looking—into the carriers and set them by the door. We put the final three dozen of “Mona's” cupcakes into the oven, and then it was time to run up and change. I had to let it go about these cupcakes. They were a concession—a favor—to me and, even more so, to my friends, and I had to just look at them that way. They were our humble contribution. But it just made me resolve that tomorrow's cupcakes, as simple as they were, would be our finest work.

Upstairs, Olivia and Mia took what felt like endless amounts of time getting dressed, trying different options and trading things back and forth. It was probably only ten minutes, but I was so antsy, I couldn't stand it.

When we were all ready, we scurried out with the carriers to the two vehicles and loaded in the cupcakes. Just as we were about to pull out, Olivia yelled, “Wait! There are still cupcakes in the oven!” I hopped out of the car before my dad had even totally stopped moving. Inside, I raced to the oven and pulled out the trays of cupcakes. I had caught them just in the nick of time. One more minute, and they would have been too hard and completely ruined. I set them out to cool, turned off the oven, and raced back to the minivan, where my dad reprimanded me for jumping out of a moving vehicle. Whoops.

“Olivia. You saved the day,” I said, anyway, gasping.

Olivia smirked and said, “Now can we stay for the whole premiere?”

I groaned and re-buckled my seat belt.

Now underway, I was started to get jazzed. Half the cupcakes were behind us, and we were more than halfway done with the next round. Dropping them off at the premiere would be fun, and we might even get to see a star or maybe a big producer or something. Even if we didn't, it was still cool to be inside before the star of the show. How many other kids would be able to say that?

Alexis, Matt, George, and Katie were in the car with my mom, and the rest of us, plus Jake, were with my dad in the minivan. Traffic was heavy heading into town, and at the last minute, my dad decided to take a sneaky shortcut and signaled to my mom to follow. We ended up on a random, quiet country lane I don't remember ever seeing before.

“It used to be all farmland out here, not that long ago!” said my dad. “Some of these old access roads aren't really marked, and they don't turn up on the GPS, but they're still handy. Wait . . .”

There was a car pulled over up ahead of us, its hazard lights flashing. As we drew closer, I could see it was an old blue SUV.

“Wonder if these guys need help?” my dad asked, slowing down to look.

“Dad! We're going to be late! We can't stop!” I cried. But just as I said it, something about that SUV looked familiar.

It was the sticker from Sam's lacrosse team on the back window.

My dad pulled alongside and lowered down the passenger-side window in the front.

“Dad!” I yelled. “It's—”

R
omaine Ford popped her head out of the driver's-side window. “Oh, thank goodness! We've had a breakdown, and we're late. . . .”

There was a collective gasp in our car as everyone realized who it was. Liam Carey leaned his head forward from the passenger seat of the Suburban, and as he came into view someone in my vehicle (I will kill him or her if I ever figure out who it was) shrieked.

I rolled down my window. “Romaine! It's Emma! We have the cupcakes!”

“Emma?” Romaine blinked at me in confusion.

“That's my dad driving. Do you want a ride?”

“Oh my goodness, Emma! Oh, this is so lucky. Yes, please! We'd love a ride! Let me just lock up.”

I rolled up my window, and we scrambled to make room in the second row for Liam and Romaine. Everyone was speechless. I felt bad for the others in the car behind us for missing out, but I was psyched for Mia and Olivia. Romaine turned off her Suburban, locked it, and came around the car. Seconds later, Liam jumped into the front next to my dad and shook his hand, and Romaine clambered into the second row with Olivia and me. Olivia's eyes were wide, and her jaw had dropped in shock. Romaine gave me a hard, grateful hug and said, “Hi, guys!”

Liam turned around from the front seat and gave us all a megawatt grin and a wave. “Hi! I'm Liam!”

Like, duh!

“To the premiere!” cried my dad. “The public awaits!” And he took off.

OMG, why does my dad have to be so embarrassing?

As we drove, Romaine explained that she'd driven because the car was old and glitchy, and she wanted to take back roads to avoid the traffic and crowds on the other end. And then the engine flooded or something, and they got stuck.

“Why didn't you just get a limo, if you don't mind my asking?” my dad inquired. Embarrassing
again. Like, do we have to acknowledge out loud that they're stars? Anyway, do they even have limos in Maple Grove? Come on!

“That's what I said. Maybe not a limo but someone to drive, but Romaine feels like it's her hometown, and she should be able to drive herself to the movies if she wants, right, honey?” Liam teased.

She rolled her eyes at us, but smiled. “Right. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“We just get so harassed when we're out in LA that we like to be normal when we're here, you know?” Liam was saying to my dad.

“It's gotta be tough for you kids,” my dad agreed.

“Kids”? Seriously?

Meanwhile, Olivia had not stopped staring at Romaine the entire time. It was like Romaine was a movie and Olivia was watching her.

“Um . . . hi!” Romaine said with a giggle, waving at Olivia. Olivia looked shocked out of her daydream.

I jumped in. “Oh, Romaine, this is Olivia. And you've met Mia before, at your shower, when we dropped off the cupcakes, and—”

“I'm Jake!” said Jake, popping up out from the backseat.

“Hi, Jake!” said Romaine. “You're as cute as a button!”

Jake fake-scowled, but I could tell he was pleased.

“Liam, Emma's the girl who bakes the cupcakes!” said Romaine.

“Oh, right! Thanks! They're delicious!” said Liam. “I had some after the bridal shower, when they let me back into the house. I can't wait for—”

“Yes, for
tonight
. When we have some at the
premiere
, right?” Romaine interrupted with a very significant tone of voice. I knew what she was getting at, but she masked it pretty well. Liam caught her drift too.

“Right,” he said, nodding. “That's going to be the first thing I eat tonight!”

I've seen Liam Carey's abs in the movies before, and I had to doubt if he was eating very many cupcakes, but I was still psyched about the compliment.

Soon we reached the back entrance of the mall. The Press was lined up three-people deep, and onlookers were held back by a red velvet rope. There were beefy guards at the sides of the gate to the parking lot, and a lady with a clipboard and a headset, standing in front. Romaine and Liam ducked down out of sight, and I felt bad for them. They were like fugitives.

“Sorry, closed for a private event,” said the lady to my dad.

“I know,” said my dad. “I'm delivering cupcakes for the event.”

“Name?” Clipboard Lady said.

“The Cupcake Club,” my dad replied. To his credit, he wasn't even a little embarrassed saying it.

The lady scanned her list. “Sorry. Not here. Back it up.” She gestured to the guards, and they stepped in to block the way.

“Wait!” I said. “We have a delivery. We're meeting . . .?” I nudged Romaine, and she mumbled something.

Clipboard Lady sighed an exasperated sigh. “We haven't got all night. Please. Back the vehicle out.”

Romaine peeped up her head a tiny bit to me and said, “Annika Dolan.”

“Annika Dolan!” I called. My dad relayed the name, and Clipboard Lady said something into her headset. Then she shook her head.

“Ms. Dolan is not aware what this is in reference to. So now if you'll please turn the vehicle around, we've got cars backing up. . . .” Now Clipboard Lady was tapping her foot angrily. Even if she was using words like “please,” icicles were dripping from them.

I felt breathless. I didn't know what to do next!

There was a long pause, and then Liam and Romaine both sat up at the same time. There was a gasp from the nearby crowd, and Clipboard Lady's eyes widened as she saw them.

“Oh . . . I
am
sorry! Please! Go right ahead!” The gate lifted, and we sailed through, my mom following close behind and the press only realizing they'd been tricked at the very last minute, when it was too late. They roared in frustration, and the sound sent chills down my spine. I watched through the back windshield as they pressed at the gate, and the guards had to physically hold them back.

But we were in! We all hooted and hollered and high-fived in relief as we entered the parking structure. My dad said he'd take us all the way to the theater level and drop us off, then wait for us outside down the street a bit.

“Okay, even if I didn't get to drive myself, that was pretty successful!” declared Romaine, laughing and clapping her hands. We all climbed out at the theater level, and the rest of the kids from the car behind us mobbed Liam and Romaine as I introduced everyone.

“Well, I've got to get this lovely lady off to her
preshow interviews,” said Liam. “It was great meeting all of you. See you”—Romaine elbowed him and he laughed—“very soon!” I was glad Liam had as hard a time as I did keeping a secret!

Romaine rolled her eyes, hugged my dad, and took off. “Thanks for the cupcakes!” she called over her shoulder. “I'll tell Annika you're coming, and she'll pay you!”

After they were gone, it felt like a collective letdown, like the energy had been sucked out of a room. We unloaded the cupcake boxes, waved good-bye to my parents for the time being, and headed in.

Inside were tons of cameras and photographers, and their flashes blinded us as we entered.

“They think we're someone!” cried Olivia.

“We are!” said Alexis, laughing. “We're the Cupcake Club!” She did a little twirl, holding out the cupcake carrier, and then curtsied.

We all laughed and went to find Annika.

As we roamed the floor, I spied a big buffet, and we went to deposit the carriers there.

“Wow,” said Katie, impressed. There were big glass jars of colorful—beautiful—candy and platters of incredible-looking treats. Very professional. The Cupcakers and I exchanged looks, and we all
knew what we were thinking: We were definitely amateurs. There was no way
Celebrity
magazine was going to write about the Cupcake Club. Not for our contribution tonight!

Surveying the competition, Alexis looked devastated, and Katie's mouth had dropped open as she examined the treats from the other bakeries. There were triple-decker caramel fudge cupcakes with steps made from caramels climbing the sides, and tiny elaborate pastries with beautiful white cream piped into swirls on top. There were small dishes—artistic-looking crème brûlées with shellacked surfaces so shiny, I could almost see my reflection, and chocolate-dipped strawberries with long, elegant stems.

“Katie, what's that expression your mom uses when something comes out looking junky?” I asked.

Katie looked at me, nodding but looking crestfallen. “ ‘Loving hands at home.' ” She sighed as she quoted.

I had to laugh. “Yup. That's us all right. We had good intentions and lots of love, but not a whole lot of skill on display here tonight.”

Mia laughed. “At least
we
look good!”

“We look great, you mean!” corrected Olivia.

Suddenly, an executive-looking lady in high, high heels and another headset came tapping over to us. “I'm Annika Dolan,” she said crisply. She put out her hand, and I jumped in to shake it.

“Emma Taylor. We have the cupcakes.”

“And the bill,” said Alexis professionally. She handed Annika an envelope. I hadn't even thought of a bill! I smiled at Alexis and nodded in gratitude.