CeCe Dupree sipped her lemonade, smiling at the evening’s events. Abby and Logan engaged. Sage and Flynn embarking on a grand new adventure. Even Sage’s mom found someone.
“Love is in the air tonight, isn’t it?” Janet Hill sidled up to CeCe at the stern and sniffed, as if she could actually smell something other than the ocean.
“For some people.” CeCe hoped she sounded nonchalant, not bitter. She didn’t begrudge anyone else’s happiness just because her own romantic life smelled more like moldy sourdough than whatever sweet scent Janet detected.
“It could be your lucky night, too, you know.” Janet’s heavily lined eyes sparkled. Behind her, the warm glow of Main Street illuminated the bluff, twinkling in tandem with the pale stars studding the lavender-gray sky.
“What do you mean?” Wary, CeCe took another sip of lemonade. Of all the meddling albeit well-meaning Belles, Janet Hill was the wild card. You never knew what she had up her sleeve.
“I want to set you up with my nephew Owen.”
CeCe suppressed an internal groan. Not another setup.
“He’s a catch,” Janet insisted. “And you two have a lot in common.”
“Oh? Like what?” CeCe asked, humoring her.
“He works in a bakery.”
“Really?” Huh. That was new. No one had set her up with another baker before. Maybe he had potential?
“Technically, he’s an accountant for a bakery chain,” Janet corrected, quickly adding, “But he’s a pastry connoisseur. And he looks like a young Robert Taylor.”
“Who?”
Janet rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated with her ignorance. “Never mind. Owen is a hunk. And he knows the difference between a baguette and a brioche. What more could a girl want?”
An image of her childhood crush, Jayce Hunt, flickered in CeCe’s mind. His dark, unruly hair that he could never fully tame, no matter how many expensive gels he tried. The tiny dent near the corner of his mouth. Not quite a dimple, but close—and distractingly adorable. Since kindergarten, no other boy could compare. But he’d never view her as anything more than his nerdy, flour-covered best friend.
As if he’d read her mind from hundreds of miles away, her phone warbled his personalized ringtone. Her heart skipped, then stumbled, like it always did whenever he called. “Excuse me, Janet. I should take this.”
“Okay, but think about what I said. You and Owen would make a fabulous couple.”
“I will,” she promised, already pulling her cell from the crossbody clutch slung over her shoulder. Scooting toward the railing, she answered the call. “Hey, what are you doing awake?” she asked in lieu of a greeting. “Isn’t it like 5 a.m. in Paris?”
“Like you always say, the best time to buy baked goods is first thing in the morning.” His voice scratched with an early morning rasp, as if he’d just woken up, and the sultry sound gave her goose bumps.
Get a grip, CeCe.
“I’m buying pastries for the crew,” he explained. “And I can’t remember what you said I should try? They’re like doughnut holes?”
Of course he was buying pastries for the crew. Such a sweet Jayce-like thing to do. Even as one of Hollywood’s hottest heartthrobs, who was filming a new rom-com in Paris, he hadn’t lost his boy-next-door charm.
“Chouquettes,” she said with her mother’s Caribbean-French accent. Although she made the light, fluffy pastries sprinkled with crunchy pearl sugar at her own bakery, she could appreciate the pleasure of enjoying them in Paris.
They would taste even sweeter with Jayce. She shook away the thought.
“Riiiiight. Chouquette,” he said, pronouncing shoo-ket clumsily.
She smiled to herself. You gotta love a man for trying.
Ugh. She loved him too much. That was the problem. You’re friends, nothing more. Get it through your thick head already.
“Thanks,” he said casually. She pictured him strolling the cobbled Parisian streets, onlookers gawking as they recognized his chiseled jawline and midnight-blue eyes. “What are you up to?”
“Sailing around the bay.”
“Uh-huh,” he scoffed. “And I’m bungee jumping off the Eiffel Tower.”
“I’m serious. I’m on a sunset cruise. It’s beautiful.” She felt a little miffed. Okay, so she was a homebody who spent most evenings curled up on the couch with a book or TV show and her cantankerous cat. But was it so hard to believe she could be doing something interesting for a change?
“Are you on a date or something?”
Did she detect a hit of jealousy in his inflection? No. That would be crazy.
“Would I answer the phone if I was on a date?”
“For me? Your very best friend in the whole world? Yes. Always.” She could tell from his tone that he was teasing, but he had no idea how right he was.
“Hey, guess what?” he asked suddenly.
“What?”
“I’m coming home before the press tour starts. And I have a favor to ask you.”
“A favor? What kind of favor?”
“A big one. But—” He paused to say something in stilted French to someone on the other end of the phone. “Hey, Toto,” he said, using the nickname he’d given her in third grade, “I gotta go. I’m at the bakery and running late to set, but I’ll call you in a few days, okay?”
“Okay.” She didn’t want to hang up. She missed his voice. She missed him.
“I’ll bring you back some real French macarons to butter you up. One taste and you won’t be able to say no.” There was more jostling of the phone followed by a rushed goodbye.
She stared at the blank screen.
Jayce was coming home soon.
And he wanted to ask her for a favor.
A big one, he’d said. And he’d sounded serious.
How big of a favor could it be?
Discover Jayce’s big favor (and follow CeCe, Abby, Logan, Max, and our other friends in Blessings Bay) in The Uncomplicated Café.
