Heartbreak Cake (27 page)

She raises her eyebrows, and I can tell she still isn’t putting two and two together. I say nothing and just eat my sundae quietly.

They think I was with a client? No wonder this is poisoning the business. Who wants to hire a company that likes to eat the wedding cake before the wedding?

“You don’t know anything about that, do you dear?” Mrs Barbera asks me from across the table, her voice just a shade less friendly than a few minutes ago.

Chapter 20

Damn, I really do look good in orange.

It’s one of the perks of having my father’s olive complexion. I can rock the color orange like nobody’s business.

I’m dressed in my new cocktail dress, a strappy number that Mrs. Cavatelli helped me pick out at a boutique after our lunch at the Cliffside Cucina. Lunch was skillfully salvaged after she was able to distract everyone with a question about the restaurant’s wine list.

Seems my proclivity for dating married men did not trump the debate of rose versus white zinfandel. Thank goodness for the hot button topics in the food world.

It was the perfect way to ease myself out of what could’ve been an uncomfortable moment, but in the end, we all drank some lovely chardonnay and became fast friends. Although, I did notice Mrs. Barbera on her cellphone doing some Googling, but she kept things civilized, which is all I ever want.

We went next door to the out-of-my-price-range Malibu boutique that had pictures of Britney Spears and Selena Gomez wearing outfits from the shop in
US Weekly
and
People
magazine that were framed and hung up by the cash register. I was overwhelmed with all the soft materials and pretty colors. It didn’t take much for me to be talked into a three-hundred-dollar cocktail dress that was the color of a fall pumpkin.

“Thank you, Mrs. Cavatelli. You have excellent taste,” I say into my bedroom mirror before spinning around, enjoying the short skirt and gold heels that accent the look. It’s fun being a girl sometimes. A little lipstick, a pretty dress, and a date with a good-looking man can almost make you forget just about everything.

My phone vibrates, and I lunge toward it, hoping it’s Simon.

I called him this morning at six. Then at eight.

Snuck a call during our lunch at noon, texted him at three-thirty, sent him a long, frantic email at five, and I just checked his twitter and noticed his last post was two days ago, and all it said was #bloodyhell.

Didn’t look like he was going to be able to save me from this mess. I had hopes that if anyone could, it would be Simon Ford.

Everything has spun away from me, and I’m not going to be able to fix this one—everything I’ve feared, has actually happened. From losing Josh, to getting him back, to getting rejected, and to ultimately becoming someone I never thought I would. All to keep a man. And now the cherry on top is my professional reputation is in tatters in the midst of what should be the best time of my career.

I’ve imploded, and it’s time to just let it go. And maybe a good time to think about a Plan B. I have been talking to a friend of mine who owned a cupcake shop in Portland, and she told me there was an untapped bridal scene with their crunchy granola brides.

I own a puffy vest from Patagonia. I can probably learn to make vegan and gluten free wedding cakes. Couldn’t I?

But it isn’t Simon on my phone. It’s just my alarm reminding me of where I’m headed tonight, and why I look like a tangerine dream.

“You ready?” Noah asks. He leans against the doorframe of my bedroom looking handsome in a fitted suit and his tortoiseshell glasses that make his hazel eyes look like a bright piece of amber.

I take his hand. “I’m ready to have some fun with you.”

Wrapping my arm around his waist, we head to his truck so we can drive to Michael’s on the Bay where Stephanie is hosting her rehearsal dinner for the bridal party.

Wedding day is tomorrow, which means decisions about my future will have to be made. But for now, I just want to try and enjoy Wedding Eve, which is almost as exciting as the actual day itself.

“Is Josh expecting you at the Crystal Cove table?” I ask gently, not sure about Noah’s mood, which has vacillated from low to high since lunch with his mom.

I haven’t dared bring up the “T” word, but depending on where we go with this, it will have to be a discussion at a certain point. No more understanding girlfriend who waits patiently for crumb cake.

“He knows I’m coming with you,” he says quietly. “He didn’t look pleased, but he knows better than to say anything to me.”

In the truck, Noah guns the engine and we bounce down PCH toward the Long Beach skyline that looks so romantic at night with the lights shimmering from the ocean view condos and the cruise ships docked at San Pedro Port in the distance.

It’s a clear night and everything looks crisp and beautiful, but I have an uneasy feeling we are heading straight into a storm.

***

I love the beginning of a new relationship when everything feels gooey and warm just like freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

If only it could stay this way, I think, as I wait for Noah to open my door, so we can make our entrance into the wedding party that is already in full swing.

Even as we stand in the parking lot, I can hear Travis’s band, The Speckled Owls, playing a boozy rendition of “Rainbow Connection.”

Noah holds my hand and swings it in the air, neither of us feeling overly chatty. I know I’m nervous about spending the evening with Josh and Valentina, and Lindsey Winters who has proven to be a very nosey journalists, always asking the questions you don’t want to answer.

“You’re a million miles away.” Noah pulls me close and nuzzles my hair.

“Just worried. There’s a lot at stake. I want it to go smoothly.”

“You can’t always fix everything. You know that, right? Sometimes you just have to let life lead you where you’re supposed to go.”

“That’s not easy,” I admit. “I’ve taken great care to control all aspects of my life so things like this wouldn’t happen.”

“I’ve learned the more you try and control an outcome, the more unruly it can become,” Noah states matter-of- factly. “You have to see where it all leads, Indira, and try not to think there’s only one way for this to all go.”

“You’re going to be okay because you’re an amazing woman.” Noah stops me before we walk into the restaurant and holds both of my hands.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior today. My mom, she doesn’t always have a filter, and I didn’t want to talk about an ex over lunch. But I have nothing to hide from you.”

“I’ve been wondering…is Teodora the “T” in your peach tattoo?” I point to his arm, and he touches it like an old wound.

“Yes, she was someone I loved for a long time. But she never could make the decision on whether I was the one for her. It was painful to be in limbo for so long, but I kept hoping she would see how great we were together. She never did, and I finally had to walk away, but it wasn’t easy. And to be honest, these days I have very little patience for ambivalence.”

Noah takes a deep breath and exhales.

“I’d like to continue to get to know you, but I have to know if you’re done with Josh? I’m looking for someone who’s looking forward. Not back. And I’m not sure if you’re ready.”

Completely caught off guard, I stand there clutching my purse, unable to answer him because it feels too soon to have to decide.

“Noah,” I stammer nervously

“Hey, don’t worry about any of this now, okay. I’m not looking for answer. I just wanted to let you know what was on my mind. But I’m ready to have fun tonight.” He wraps his arms around me and hugs me tightly.

Leaning down he gives me a comforting kiss, and I hold on tightly to his waist, feeling calm and safe in his arms. Something I can’t ever remember feeling with Josh.

“Indira! You’re finally here!” Stephanie comes barreling out the front door looking chic and beautiful in a pink lace dress with a plunging neckline that fits her snugly. Her hair is pulled into a slick ponytail, her blue eyes look like two pieces of Tiffany Blue diamonds, and the only piece of jewelry she has on is her engagement ring and a platinum necklace that says “Love.”

“Stephanie, you look amazing. How will you top this tomorrow?” I lean in and give her a hug, happy to see her finally make it to the day before her wedding.

“Look at you. You’re so lucky that you can wear fall tones.”

“I have no idea what that means, but thanks.” I pull Noah’s hand so he can move in closer. “This is my date, Noah. He’s the chef at Crystal Cove right now, and also had a hand in creating your wedding cake. He does wonderful things to braised meats,” I say proudly as Noah pretends to curtsy at my description.

“What a pleasure,” Stephanie drawls flirtatiously, taking in Noah’s good looks and our hands intertwined.

“I’m the guest chef at Crystal Cove for the next few weeks. Our sous chef did most of the work on your cake. He really is the person who did an amazing job. I just gave the team a few ideas.”

“Modest too?” Stephanie playfully jabs him in the chest. “I’m impressed. Josh has raved about you. But, he didn’t mention you two were…dating,” she says with a tilt of her head. “Now, did you two want to come inside? The party is in full swing. I expect to see you both on the dance floor soon.”

As we follow Stephanie into the restaurant, we are corralled by a team of hostesses who take my purse and jacket and guide us toward our table.

“Check out our dinner companions,” Noah says as the hostess pulls out a chair not knowing she just sat us at the table of irony. There sits Pedro, his very pregnant wife Sofia, who waves happily at me and sips on either a Shirley Temple or a Red Bull and Vodka. A surprisingly friendly- looking Josh sits next to a subdued Valentina at the head of the table.

“Hi you two. We’ve been waiting for you,” Lindsey Winters chirps from beside Pedro, her yellow glasses a perfect complement to a pretty turquoise dress.

“This looks cozy,” I say taking a seat. “Can I get you drink?” the waitress asks.

“Make it ten.” I set my purse down on the table and notice the two exit doors. I’m already plotting my escape in the next hour or so.

“Did you set this up?” Pedro asks Lindsey who takes a long sip from her Piña Colada, a bright pink umbrella and gigantic chunk of pineapple still hanging from the rim of her cup.

“Who me? How in the world could I pull that off?” She flashes a sweet smile at both of us, and we know this manipulative minx has managed to get us all at a table together for her own journalistic pleasure. You don’t make it to a paper of national record without knowing just how to get the story you want and pulling all the right strings to puppeteer everything.

Lindsay whips out her notebook from her purse and clicks open her
New York Times
ballpoint pen.

“So let’s all get to know one another.”

***

“I can’t hear what she’s asking Valentina,” I whisper to Noah, who cuts into his lamb and grimaces at the sight of an overcooked shank.

“Maybe she’s asking her why she and Josh are ignoring one another even though they are pretending their marriage is wonderful.”

Ouch
. But he’s right. The chill between Josh and Valentina is obvious to everyone.

“Something odd is going on tonight, with everyone, and for once it has nothing to do with me,” I say to Noah who isn’t listening to me. He just washes down the dried lamb with another glass of twenty-dollar Cabernet Sauvignon, which appears to make it all bearable.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so concerned about Josh and Valentina and focus on yourself. And me.” Noah says a little curtly.

“Is something wrong?” I put my hand on his and he finally looks up from his dinner. “You just seem really preoccupied with what’s going on with them, when you should be talking to me, Pedro, Sofia or maybe just making the rounds with the people here. Josh isn’t your concern or your boyfriend, right?”