It began when I lost my favorite doll. I carried Molly everywhere with me—not so different than Cindy Brady and her Kitty Karry-All doll. Except I knew for sure I’d left her in the park. When we returned to the park, she was gone. I’d cried all night, and the next morning Grandma Verda gave me a card. Seeing as I was too young to read, she read it to me. She told me to close my eyes and wish really hard that I’d find Molly. Later that day, I’d discovered my doll squished behind a couch cushion. Grandma Verda said it was magic.
As an adult, I knew she’d just replaced it with a new one. But then? Yeah, I’d believed her tales of magic and wishes. That entire summer had been filled with unexplained things.
When I told my mother, she got really upset. She told me not to listen to my grandmother. That Grandma meant well, but I should know the only magic you got out of life was made from hard work. And yeah, that was pretty much the truth of it, wasn’t it?
Even so, my grandmother’s obsession with magic must have made some sort of an impact on me. When Jon and I had decided to open a bakery together, the only name we’d agreed on was A Taste of Magic.
Pouring a cup of coffee, I checked the time again. Marc’s cake could wait ten more minutes. I gulped the first sip too fast and burned my throat, but I didn’t care.
Grandma wanted me to let loose and quit holding back. That petrified me almost as much as baking the stupid cake. If I faced how I really felt, it would hurt too much. I was an expert at running away from my feelings. From confrontations. From anything that meant anything to me.
I didn’t want to hide anymore, but I didn’t want to feel, either. And, if I was honest with myself, I knew what I’d become: a woman filled with remorse, confusion, sadness, and yes—a huge amount of venom. I was the coiled-up snake waiting for the perfect millisecond to attack. I was also the timid house mouse that ran and hid at the first sign of trouble. Snakes normally ate mice, but in my case, the mouse won hands down, time after time.
If I could be the snake, just once, maybe I’d have a chance.
My ten minutes were up, so I grabbed the file on the Stevens wedding and focused on that. Marc and Tiffany’s order was for a standard three-tier with two additional sides. Any other day, I’d breeze right through. Today, I just wanted it over.
I took my coffee and the file to the kitchen. My business partner’s significant other, Andy, was an interior designer, and he’d created the most workable kitchen possible within our limited dimensions. With overhead bins and cupboards for storage, wide surfaces for mixing, kneading, and decorating, along with two ovens and a commercial refrigerator, it should feel cramped. Because Andy was exceptional at his job, the space seemed larger than it was.
Of course, that didn’t stop me and Jon from dreaming about the day we’d be able to upsize. Something that seemed more out of our reach now than ever before. We’d lost several high-profile jobs recently to competition, and because of that, we weren’t picking up new business as fast as we’d like.
Just one more thing to worry about—but not now. I had enough stress at the moment, so the fate of A Taste of Magic would need to wait until another day.
My gaze flipped through the room and, as pleasant as it was, all I wanted to do was run back home and watch the first season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer again. Mature? Probably not. But at least I had good taste. Plus, those men—even the bloodsucking ones—were about as hot as they got.
“Stop,” I whispered. I placed the ingredients for the cake-from-hell on the counter.
When everything was ready, I cracked and separated the eggs, measured in the milk, citrus oil, and vanilla into a large bowl. I swallowed. I forced myself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. And then—out of nowhere—a vision of my wedding cake slipped into my mind. It had been far too grandiose for our wedding, but it was beautiful. Jon’s gift to us, the sweetie.
I’d saved a slice, just like you’re supposed to, and Marc and I meant to eat it on our first year anniversary. For good luck.