Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“I want one of Daisy’s cakes. It’s what I’ve dreamed of since I was a little girl,” Avery tells Cara, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Here’s some waters,” I say brightly, coming in with a tray of drinks. “Mom is grabbing the samples.”
Avery beams. Cara’s brow lifts snootily, but I ignore it and set the glasses down neatly before taking the tray back up to the counter.
Barely a minute later, Mom comes out with her own tray, a full array of mini cupcake samples ready to go for Avery’s approval. “This is my famous sweet cream cake,” she says as she hands everyone a mini cupcake on mismatched china plates. Cara takes a dainty bite, as though expecting it to taste like shit. Avery and I know better and stuff the whole thing in our mouths in one bite, chewing and moaning loudly in tongue-gasmic pleasure. “I see it meets the mark?”
“If I die now,” Avery says, “I’ll have no food regrets.”
Cara looks at the remaining three-fourths of a mini cupcake on her plate, then takes it in one big bite. “Oh my, that is tasty. So moist and creamy.”
“That’s what he said,” I jest, and Avery has to clap her hand over her mouth to prevent crumbs spraying everywhere.
Mom, of course, is aghast. “Hazel! Behave yourself.”
I try to laugh, but choke and, unlike Avery, end up coughing cake crumbs everywhere. I slap my hands over my mouth and mumble, “Sorry.”
Cara stabs another mini cake with her fork and eats the whole thing in one mouthful, as if afraid I’m going to yank it from her despite my ability to get these anytime I want.
I’m calling that a win for Mom.
“Mmm. Divine. I stand corrected, Avery,” Cara says as she finishes the second sample. “Is this your choice for your wedding cake?”
“It’s my preference, but Miss Daisy’s cakes are all good,” Avery says. “Unless you think the Red Wedding strawberry cake would be better?”
“No, no. I think you’ve chosen wisely. Now, let’s confirm the decorations.”
Mom and Cara start chatting about fresh-flower inserts and Swiss dots versus polka dots on the five-tiered cake they have planned while Avery and I sneak another sample. Cara may be dumb enough to turn down Mom’s Red Wedding strawberry, but we sure as hell aren’t.
Cara hrrmphs when she realizes that Avery and I are four samples deep. “Ladies, ladies . . . keep that up, and I shall have to schedule another visit with the seamstress.”
Avery sets the small cupcake in her hand down like the good girl she is. I, however, shove mine into my mouth once more, not caring about Cara’s look of disapproval. I narrow my eyes and glare back, daring her to say one word about it.
Suddenly, Cara’s eyes go bright and a light bulb basically dings over her head. “Oh my! I have the best idea ever! Daisy, how many of these mini cupcakes can you make by Saturday night?”
Mom is a consummate businesswoman who knows the correct answer to a question like that. “However many you need.”
Cara takes Avery’s hands in her own and meets her eyes. “Midnight. Madness.”
She seems to think that her brilliance is apparent, but we’re all still just as confused as before she spoke. Avery gives me a glance, and I shrug, and Avery turns her eyes to Cara. “What?”
Cara gets up and starts pacing around the room, seeing her vision before her eyes instead of Mom’s bakery, but somehow not running into any errant chair legs. “Picture it, everyone has had dinner, we’ve cut the cake, and the dance floor is starting to wane. But we want to send people home with a bang, one last memorable hurrah with the wedding-night send-off. Midnight Madness.”
Something is starting to take shape in my mind, but it’s mostly that Cara isn’t quite right, not anything wedding related.
“We’ll draw everyone outside, and it will be like a second cocktail hour of passed snacks and sweets to keep everyone in good spirits. Like the mini cupcakes in flavors completely different from the wedding cake. Something fun and boozy maybe? Chocolate bourbon pecan?” she asks Mom, who nods excitedly. “Strawberry champagne surprise?” Another nod. “And there will be a fireworks show!”
Avery was feeling the additional sweets, but fireworks make her balk. “Fireworks? Isn’t that a bit . . . excessive?”
Cara gives Avery a condescending look that irks me, but I bite my cheeks instead of telling Cara that I hope she steps in manure when she gets off her high horse. Instead, Cara planner-splains her ass off. Yup, I just made that up. “Dearie, you’re marrying into one of the wealthiest, most influential families in the area. Fireworks are completely appropriate.”
As though the matter is already decided, Cara sits and types on her tablet, making sound effects to go with her movements: “Beep-bop-bum-bum-bum, and voilà!” She finishes with a flourish of her hand. “I’ll follow up with the fire department for permits and source a professional. Daisy, let’s do three passed sweets, your choice on flavor combinations. Something that’ll knock their socks off.” She glances at the plate of mini cupcakes as though they’re proof enough that Mom can handle some freedom with her assignment. “What do you think about four hundred total servings, or thereabout? Decide what feels appropriate and send me another quote, in addition to the updates we made to the cake design today, m’kay?”