Imperfectly Delicious (Imperfect Series #6) - Mary Frame Page 0,33

tell Fred as I bustle along the sidewalk, hugging my coat tighter. It’s getting darker, the sun setting behind the skyscrapers and I swear the temperature has dropped twenty degrees since I left the truck fifteen minutes ago.

“I’m fine.”

She sounds like a frog. A sick frog with a plugged nose, harboring a million germs, and this is no good.

I closed up shop early today to get started on the wedding order since Fred won’t be able to help me with the fondant toppers. I only have one more batch to throw in the oven and then it’s a matter of waiting for them to cool, cutting out the designs, and then getting them into place and into travel containers.

Except all day I’ve been off. Discombobulated. Mostly due to the fact that I’ve been working triple time since Fred has been out. I think I’ve gotten a grand total of five hours of sleep over the last three days. And then this morning, I happened to catch sight of some young blonde getting into Guy’s SUV with him. They were gone for an hour and he returned on his own.

Who is she? One of his sisters? I would like to think so, but I doubt it. She appeared too old to be in need of a guardian and Bethany made it sound like they were significantly younger. What bothers me most is I noticed at all and I cared. I shouldn’t care. I should hate him.

“Did you go to the doctor?” I ask Fred as I enter the market, bypassing a fake Santa ringing his bell. Christmas music jingles in the background.

“I went yesterday. My flu turned into a pneumonia. I have to take antibiotics for 24 to 48 hours before I stop being contagious. But I should be fine by Monday.”

“Don’t worry about me. Take care of yourself and come back when you’re ready. Did Jack bring you to the doctor?”

“No. He worked late so my mom took me.”

I bite my lip from yelling. This is bothersome. He should prioritize Fred.

“You should have called me. I would have gone with you.”

“I couldn’t do that, you’re extra busy since I’m sick. I’m so sorry, Scarlett.” She breaks into hacking coughs.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about me. You worry about resting and getting yourself better.”

Mental note to call and have soup delivered since Jack sucks ass.

“I closed up the truck early, and I’m halfway done baking. I need more sugar for the frosting though, so I’m at the store now. Do you need anything? I can grab it and bring it to you on my way back to the truck.”

Long pause. “You used all the sugar from the truck?” Her already nasally voice squeaks even higher on the last word.

“Yeah, so?” I bend down to grab a bag of organic sugar from the shelf.

“But…didn’t you, I mean, you tasted the first batch, right?”

My gut sinks with sudden intuition. Why would she be asking me this unless . . .? “What? Why are you asking me that?” And why didn’t I taste test it? Because I was too busy thinking about Guy’s young girlfriend, that’s why.

“Oh shit, tell me you didn’t! Dammit, Scarlett!” She barks out the words and then breaks into a round of phlegmy coughs.

I drop the bag of sugar and back into someone behind me.

“Excuse me,” an acidic voice says, but I barely hear it over the dread filling me.

Fred speaks again. “I told him it wouldn’t be a big deal because you always taste the batter on the first batch. And you do! What made you stop now?”

“What do you mean, you told him it was no big deal? What’s wrong with my cupcakes?”

“Why didn’t you taste test?!”

“I was distracted!”

She blows out a breath and we’re both quiet for a few long seconds. “There’s salt.” Now her voice is small.

“Salt?” It’s like I don’t even know the meaning of the word.

“You know, the old switch the sugar with salt trick? It’s such a lame, predictable prank, how could you have not checked? Who doesn’t taste test? You always taste test.”

This is it. He’s won. He’s manipulating my situation to try and get rid of me, just like he manipulates everyone and everything else. I should never have let him rub his face on mine.

“It’s my fault, I’m sorry Scarlett. It wasn’t him, I—” I hang up. I can’t talk to her anymore. I have sixteen hours to bake 1500 more cupcakes and decorate them and yes, I can probably pull