drinking cup after cup of coffee and a family in one of the booths near the windows.
“Hailey, hey,” a male voice says behind me.
I turn around and see Alex, not Cade. Why is his cousin here? Oh, God. He’s here to tell me Cade doesn’t want to be bothered with me because I waited too long to text him. I was going to do it after I finished that batch of cupcakes.
“Hi, Alex. What are you doing here?” I ask, hating how rude that sounds considering how nice he was about what Sabrina said at dinner last night.
“I had some free time this afternoon since my plans fell through, so I thought I’d stop in and see what you’re making today. I looked in the case but didn’t see anything. Did they sell out already?”
“No. Well, yes, but I was just working on some more cupcakes. I can show you them if you like.”
Alex gives me a warm smile and nods. “Great. I’d love to see them.”
“Okay. Come back into the kitchen,” I say as I turn to head back to my station. Then I realize he’s probably used to the best chef’s kitchen, which is definitely not what we have here, so I stop and spin around to face him.
“I should warn you this probably isn’t what you’re used to a kitchen looking like.”
“It’s not the kitchen that makes great food. It’s the chef, so don’t worry.”
Forcing a tortured smile I know isn’t reaching my eyes, I move toward the kitchen silently praying to God Hector cleaned up and my father hasn’t made another mess back there. It’s bad enough my area looks like a cake factory exploded around it.
My hands are shaking by the time we walk through the doors. The moment I step foot inside, I frantically scan the kitchen for anything horrible, but it looks okay.
Well, okay for what I’m used to. What Alex works in probably looks like a million bucks compared to here.
I listen for any gasp of horror coming from him as we make our way to my table, but I don’t hear anything but the usual sounds of the kitchen. The afternoon cook, Sylvie, is humming some tune she said reminds her of when she was a girl back in Austin, the ice machine is making that ka-chonk-a-chonk noise that tells me someone needs to kick it again, and my father’s radio way back in the corner plays some Beach Boys’ song I recognize but can’t for the life of me remember the title right now.
“My area is back here,” I say, pointing to where I left the cupcakes I’d been working on in the corner nearest to the doors.
Before I can say anything else, Alex stops in front of my table and looks down at the last of the peach cupcakes I’d just started when my father said I had a guest. “That looks exactly like a rose, Hailey. It’s uncanny. If I didn’t know it was a cupcake beneath that frosting, I’d say you’d sculpted an actual flower. What flavor did you use for the cake?”
His compliment makes me beam with pride. “I decided to do a peach cupcake for this color icing. I’d offer you one, but our customers bought them all up this morning and I’m saving this one for something special. I have vanilla ones, though. Would you like one of them?”
With a smile that reminds me of his cousin, he nods eagerly. “I’d love to try one.”
Reaching around, I grab a white rose cupcake and hand it to him. “It’s just a cupcake, you know. Nothing terribly special. These are more of an artistic project for me. I saw a picture of some online and wanted to see if I could do it.”
“Can we sit in a booth and talk for a few minutes?” he asks. “I won’t take up too much of your time.”
I hope he can’t see how surprised I am that he wants to sit with me when I smile and start moving back out to the restaurant. “Sure. That would be great.”
When we’re settled in a booth in the corner away from everyone else in the dining room, Alex takes his first bite of the cupcake. “This is delicious. You have to put something special in these because they don’t taste like ordinary vanilla cupcakes.”
“I do. Sour cream. It makes them taste so good, doesn’t it?”
“Mmmm…that’s it. I thought maybe I tasted a hint of almond, but sour cream makes sense. This