Cupcakes and Christmas - R.J. Scott Page 0,12
kill a passing tourist taking photos on a studio tour.
Why am I even here? I have no chance. I’m going to look stupid. I should change the subject before I blurted out that posting the cake was in the hope that he’d notice and maybe contact me.
“We all have days like that.” He certainly didn’t run as I expected him to. “I saw you mentioned the cake on your Instagram again last week. Thank you, Justin, it meant a lot that you did that. I got a couple of people approaching me for birthdays, with that and the promo from the Lomax cake, I’m booked through to fall next year.”
“That Lomax design was stunning.” Betty Lomax was a singer and actress and she’d married Stinn-G the multimillionaire rapper. Images of the cake had blown up on social media. Formed from cascading sponges, it was covered in intricate and delicate sugar lace, the same design that’d covered the bride’s dress. Brody was a baker in capital letters. He didn’t need set managers tidying up his messes as I did. He probably did everything himself.
“Thank you, it was a favorite of mine. But I loved the galaxy birthday cake as well.”
We walked a little farther in silence, and then I thought of the perfect conversation starter.
“Is your husband staying here with you?” Whatever I felt for the guy, whatever this crazy pull to be near him was, I wasn’t going to act on it with a married man. “His proposal was pretty special, being on the show and all.”
“You mean the proposal that overshadowed the one successful thing I’d done on my own?” Bitterness and sarcasm dripped from his words.
“Uhmm… ”
“Shit,” he said and stopped walking as he kicked at the snow that’d formed a ridge. “Sorry, ignore me. No, he’s not here, and I’m in the hotel on my own. We’re actually getting a divorce. Getting? We’re minutes away from it being final. I have the papers to sign. But I haven’t done it yet because doing that would be me admitting that I hadn’t worked hard enough on my marriage, but I will sign them.” There was a lot of emotion in his voice as he blurted all that out, and I regretted asking. He was pale as if he’d exposed the worst truth of his life.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, and I was sorry because he looked destroyed. I really wish he’d been on social media so I could get a glimpse of who he was. All I knew was that he created the most amazing cakes for celebrities and that he’d gotten a six page spread in U.S. Baker, and now I knew he was getting a divorce which clearly wasn’t public knowledge.
“Me too,” he said. “I don’t know why I even told you because I sure as hell don’t want my appearance on the show to be dogged down in what happened.
“What happened? I mean you don’t have to say, I don’t even know why I asked.”
He shrugged and shook his head, that beautiful carefree smile not showing any chance of returning. “It’s okay, but can you keep that to yourself for a bit?”
“Of course, I’m sorry—”
“It’s okay,” he interrupted and I took that as him not wanting to talk about it. He started walking again, and I tried not to think about the fact he would be on the market again. The man was clearly devastated by the divorce, and I wondered if the split had been due to something he’d done? They say it takes two to make a marriage work, so I should stay away from jumping to any conclusions. By the time I’d worked my way through all of that we’d reached the parking area, and he stopped by the brand new BMW X1. “Wow, is this the car from your post? The one you drove up here in?”
“Yeah,” I said, sucked in by his wide grin. He looked so happy compared to a moment ago, and I loved it.
“I saw it on your channel.” He patted the hood. “Guess social media pays well.” I searched for a sign he was hating on me, but actually he was smiling again, and all I could think was that I was thankful to see that smile return.
I was desperate to press my fingers to that grin, even more so now that I knew he was free. I shouldn’t feel happy. It was wrong. I should have compassion, but my stupid brain was stuck on him being