Amanda heard the door swing behind her. Assuming it was Tanya, she didn’t look up from the cake layers in front of her. “Did we make almond pastry cream yesterday? I didn’t see it in the cooler.”
“I don’t know, but I sure hope there’s some leftover for samples,” Mel said.
She resisted a growl and turned. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t answer my texts.”
“Because I didn’t want to talk to you.”
Mel sighed. “I’m trying to apologize.”
Amanda wiped her hands on her apron. “And I’m not interested.”
“Bella and I had a huge fight. I wanted to be with you, but I couldn’t walk out. I mean, we’re trying to figure out whether or not to get divorced.”
The irony of the excuse made her chuckle. “Oh, well then. That makes me feel much better.”
“Don’t be mad.”
Amanda closed her eyes. “I’m not mad.”
“Of course you are. And you have every right to be. Just tell me what I need to do to make it up to you.”
She shook her head. “There’s nothing to make up.”
Mel folded her arms and gave her a look of exasperation. “Your mouth is saying one thing, but your body language is saying another.”
“My body language is saying I don’t want to do this with you anymore. It doesn’t mean I’m angry.”
Mel’s expression changed. It was almost comical to see the recalibration of her switching tactics. “I want to see where this is going. Don’t deny us the chance to find out.”
Twenty years ago, the move would have worked. She’d always been inclined to kiss and make up. Even at her most frustrated, she’d have a soft spot for one or another of Mel’s strategies and Mel was a master of working her way through them until she found the one that worked. But a lot had changed in twenty years.
The conciliatory smile gave way to full charm. Mel angled her head and, without words, managed to convey a sense of come on, you know you want to. “Foot massage.”
It wasn’t fair to tempt women who spent hours and hours on their feet with foot massages. Through the years, Mel had gotten away with a lot courtesy of her skill and willingness to give them. Only Amanda spent a lot less time on her feet than she used to. And she had the money and appreciation for self-care to get massages on a regular basis. “Not this time.”
“So, next time.”
God, she was relentless. Not to mention arrogant. To think she’d once found it attractive. “No next time. Please believe me when I say there won’t be a next time.”
Mel’s shoulders dropped. “All right.”
It wasn’t like her to give in this easily, but at this point, Amanda wanted out of the conversation. “I need to get to work.”
“Of course. I’m sure whatever it is will be delicious.”
She didn’t watch Mel go, the way she had so many times. Instead, she turned her focus to the cakes in front of her waiting to be split and filled and frosted. Because as much as she’d wanted to get rid of Mel, she also had a ton of work to do.
She’d just gotten the first one filled before Tanya burst through the door like the place was on fire. “What was that about?”
Amanda scooped frosting onto the cake and started the crumb coat. “Nothing.”
Tanya’s sniff came with hands on hips and head cocked to one side. “You can refuse to tell me, but don’t lie to me.”
Ugh. She really didn’t have time for this. But she and Tanya had been friends for almost as long as they’d worked together. She knew the intimate details of Tanya’s romantic ups and downs. Not reciprocating would be insulting. “Mel and I slept together, but I realized it was a terrible idea and broke it off and she’s not happy about it.”
“Wait, wait, wait. What?”
She should have known better than to think she could get away with such an abbreviated explanation. She slid the first cake into the cooler and gave Tanya her full attention. “Did you not hear me or do you not believe me?”
Tanya’s mouth came open, then it closed. “The second one.”
“I know.” She took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. “I know.”
“I demand you tell me everything. Literally everything.”
“I promise. Just not now. We’ve got a wedding tonight and three tomorrow.” Not an overly hectic few days, but she needed to be focused if she wanted to keep it that way.
“You have to eat. You can give me the broad strokes when I make you sit down and eat a real lunch.”
She didn’t skip meals, but she did have the bad habit of ten-minute lunches between tasks. “Deal.”
“Do you need anything for now?”
“I don’t think—wait.” She remembered the question she’d accidentally asked Mel. “The almond pastry cream.”
“Top shelf. All the way in the back.” Tanya lifted her chin. “If I don’t see you in an hour, I’m coming for you. Consider yourself warned.”
“Noted.”
Tanya disappeared the way she’d come and Amanda got back to work. Each cake got split in two; the resulting layers got sandwiched with filling. A thin coat of buttercream to seal in the crumbs and create a smooth surface for the second coat of frosting. By the time she finished the three smaller tiers, the two larger ones had chilled enough. She pulled one from the cooler and set it on her turntable. Since this cake would be covered in fondant, it didn’t need to be perfect, but the smoother the frosting, the smoother the final result.
By the time she had all five frosted and ready to be covered and decorated, she’d used up most of the time Tanya had allotted her. Might as well take her break now. Once she was rolling fondant, she preferred to do it all at once.
Amanda washed her hands and headed to the front, only to find Julia and Erin chatting with Tanya. She made a show of spinning on the ball of her foot and going back the way she’d come. A chorus of “hey” and “get your ass back here” followed her. She did as she was told, not really looking to avoid them. If she could tell them all at once, she could save having to tell it multiple times. If only Jack was there.
He swept in, an infant strapped to his chest in a BabyBjorn. “Looks like I almost missed a party.”
It wasn’t unusual for her friends to converge on the bakery at once, but the timing of his arrival made her laugh. Julia grinned at the baby before looking at Jack. “Accidental party. We’d never have an on purpose party and not invite you.”
Erin nodded and shrugged. “As accidental as bumping into each other at a place we all come several times a week can be.”
Jack waved them off. “I’m not worried. I’m the life of your parties and we all know it.”
“I love you, Jack, but you’ve got nothing on this beautiful girl.” Julia had crossed the room and was now making silly faces at the baby, who giggled with delight.
Enissa was cute and had a way of pulling all the attention in the room. Maybe Amanda could let her. She could air her woes on a group text and avoid having to talk about it out loud at all. She knew better than to think she could get away with such a tactic, but it didn’t hurt to dream.
* * *
Quinn walked into the Advocacy Center charity breakfast, a knot of tension in her stomach. Lesedi would be there, but so would three hundred other people. She might have to see her across the room or, at worse, run into her at the raffle table. It would be fine.
Only her life didn’t seem to work that way. She’d barely handed over her ticket before literally bumping into her. “Good morning.”
Lesedi beamed at her. “Well, hello.”
She didn’t see any sign of Lesedi’s new girlfriend, so that counted for something. “How did the semester treat you?”
Lesedi tipped her head back and forth. “Quite good. My last paper hit the Journal of Consumer Behavior.”
Quinn mustered a smile. “Not surprising at all. Congratulations.”
Out of nowhere, or seemingly out of nowhere, Joanna appeared. She stuck out her hand like they were old friends and not like she’d stolen Quinn’s wife right from under her nose. “Quinn, good to see you.”
Quinn couldn’t quite bring herself to reciprocate the sentiment. She accepted the handshake and wondered how quickly she’d be able to escape. “How’ve you been?”
“Good, good. Gearing up for the late summer term in Monaco.”
Of course they were. They were both marketing professors at Cornell. Lesedi’s area of specialty was consumer behavior, while Joanna’s was luxury brand management. Teaming up on a research project was the start of the affair that ended her marriage. “Sounds exciting.”
Lesedi’s face softened. Whether it was guilt or regret, Quinn could never tell. Not that she was interested in either. “What about you? What do you have cooked up for the summer?”
As someone who wasn’t an academic and didn’t have kids, summer didn’t provide the same kind of dramatic shift as it did for some people. Even people who were married to academics, which she no longer was. She didn’t say as much because it would probably come out bitter. And honestly, she wasn’t bitter. Disappointed, maybe. At worst, jaded. But not bitter. “Nothing major. I’ll take the kayak out, spend as much time as I can on the lake or up at the cabin.”
Lesedi smiled. “I’ll miss the lake.”
“I’m sure you’ll make do with the Mediterranean.”
Both Lesedi and Joanna laughed. Not an arrogant, in your face sort of laugh. More of a what can we do, we’re so blissfully happy sound. Even without the ill intent, it cut.
“How’re your sisters and the kids?” Lesedi asked.
She both loved and hated that Lesedi felt the need to ask about them. It was standard divorce protocol according to her friends and several of the self-help books she’d waded through on the matter, but it left a bad taste in her mouth. At least for now. Maybe that would fade with time. “Good, good. Kids are loving summer. Jacob finished his first year at Cornell.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Lesedi clapped her hands together. “Architecture, right? Following in your footsteps.”
See, this was the problem. Lesedi wasn’t a bad person. She was thoughtful and interested and all the other things Quinn valued in a woman—partner or otherwise. “Yep.”
“I’m so glad. You’ll have to make sure he emails me. I’d love to take him to lunch.”
Quinn sighed. “I’m sure he’d like that.”
“And work?” Joanna asked.
The worst part about Lesedi falling in love with Joanna was that Joanna had been a mutual friend as much as Lesedi’s colleague. Hell, Joanna and her wife. Ex-wife. They’d done dinners and wine tours and even a trip to Provincetown together. It made hating her difficult for someone like Quinn, who had a dyed-in-the-wool tendency to assume the best of people. “It’s good.”
“Anything new and exciting in the hopper?”
Her mind flashed to Amanda and her little bakery out in Kenota. Hardly the stuff Cornell powerhouses would find exciting, but it sat pretty high on her list at the moment. “The Trumansburg Library expansion will break ground soon.”
“That’s great,” Joanna said. They both nodded encouragingly.
Quinn nodded back but allowed her gaze to wander in search of someone—anyone—else she might know and urgently need to chat with. She’d made it about halfway around the room when her sights landed on the woman she’d just been thinking about. Bingo. “If you two will excuse me, I see a client I should say hello to.”
“Of course.” Lesedi reached out and squeezed her hand. “It’s good to see you.”
She no longer flinched when Lesedi did that. It still bugged her, but more in a vaguely awkward way than the patronizing pity she got right after the divorce. “You take care.”
“You, too.”
Quinn wound her way around the room, trying not to be obvious in making a beeline for Amanda. Quinn got to her as she dropped a handful of tickets into one of the raffle buckets. “So, you’re an all in sort of woman.”
Amanda turned her way, confusion apparent on her face. Fortunately, recognition quickly followed. “Quinn. Hi.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here, but it’s definitely a pleasant surprise.”
“Same. I’ve been coming for years, actually. Long-time supporter of the agency. You?”
“Only my second. My firm did the design for the new administrative spaces last year.” Arti had pitched it as their big pro bono project for the year. Once Quinn understood the scope of the project and the mission of the organization, she’d taken the lead.
“Right, right. I remember the board president talking about it.”
Not quite wanting the conversation to end, Quinn indicated the bucket. “So, as I was saying before, you’re an all in sort of woman.”
Amanda offered a playful smile. “I embrace a hybrid model.”
They could be discussing sock-folding methods for all she cared, as long as it came with that smile. “Do tell.”
“I buy twenty tickets. Ten go in the one I really want and then the other ten get spread around.”
“Huh.” She didn’t put a lot of thought into raffles, but it was kind of genius.
“You think I’m silly. I can tell.”
“Not at all.” There were several words she was thinking that she’d just as soon Amanda not know, but silly was absolutely not one of them.
Amanda lifted her chin. “All right. What’s your method?”
Quinn raised her hands. “I’m now embarrassed to admit I don’t have one.”
Amanda let out a tutting sound and shook her head. “Well, that won’t do.”
“Would it be bad form to steal your strategy?”
She considered for a moment. “Only if you put your ten in Cook’s Night Off.”
That particular item, a collection of gift certificates to local restaurants, was one of several dozen options. “Seems fair.”
“Good. I’d hate to have to boo you if you won.” Amanda smirked.
“Do you always heckle the winner if it isn’t you?”
Amanda shrugged. “Only on the inside. I’m generally well behaved.”
How was it easier to talk to Amanda than the majority of the women she went on dates with?
“You’re making that judgmental face again.” Amanda seemed to be kidding but still.
Quinn cleared her throat. “Sorry. My mind wandered. No judgment, I swear.”
“I suppose I can take your word for it.”
Before Quinn could reply, a voice came over the sound system encouraging guests to visit the buffet and purchase their raffle tickets in the next ten minutes. “I guess that’s my cue.”
“I’ll see you next week, right?”
All the approvals were in place and they were officially closing the bakery to start construction. They had one final meeting to sign contracts and releases. “Absolutely. Are you excited?”
Amanda clasped her hands together, delight clear on her face. “I can’t wait.”
As sorry as she was to see the conversation end, she did need to buy her tickets. And get breakfast. And find her table. She offered Amanda a parting smile. “I hope you win.”
Amanda chuckled. “You, too.”
She joined the line at one of the ticket stations and studied the program for the raffles she should enter. She put her first ten in a wine of the month from Fairmount Ridge and sprinkled the remainder without thinking about it too much. She was sure, however, to avoid Amanda’s bucket of choice. Because while she believed Amanda wouldn’t literally boo her, when it came to staying on Amanda’s good side, she found herself not wanting to take any chances.