A Sweet Mess - Jayci Lee Page 0,1
wiping away Andy’s tears, she baked Frankencake II with special care. It felt odd to be acutely aware of cracking a single egg, something she usually did by the dozens with the speed and precision of a machine. Even the flour felt softer when she gave it her undivided attention. She loved baking, but baking a one-and-only cake for a special customer was decadent.
The chocolate cake batter moved like silk and glistened when it caught the light. She thinned and smoothed the peanut butter and cream cheese filling, but the gummy worms were on their own. There was no improving them. She crinkled her nose in distaste, but her preferences didn’t matter for this one. It was all about Andy.
By the time Aubrey drizzled the glaze on the cake, she had seventeen minutes left on the clock. She poked her head through the kitchen doors. “Lily, I need to deliver this cake right this second before my pinkie shrivels off.”
“Yeah.” Her employee raised an eyebrow at her but kindly left the you are so weird unsaid. “Sure.”
Aubrey tripped on her sprint to the car, but she righted herself before the cake splattered on the road. Breathing deeply through her nose, she knit the last bits of her patience together and forced herself to stay calm. After securing the cake box on the floor of the passenger seat, she slid into her fifteen-year-old Jeep and sped out of her parking spot.
She couldn’t breathe properly until she pulled into Andy’s driveway with one-and-a-half minutes to spare. Her deodorant had failed under pressure, leaving stains the size of dinner plates under her arms, and her shirt clung to her clammy chest and back. Aubrey lifted the cake box with excruciating care as if it held newly hatched chicks—delicate and precious. Her body wanted to run, but her brain forced her to walk toward the house. A wise call, since her head might blow up in a mushroom cloud if she tripped and ruined the cake.
The front door swung open before her knuckles made contact, giving Aubrey a split second to hike the cake over her head before the birthday girl launched herself at her.
“Oh, thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Andy gave her a giant grin, her two missing teeth doubling her cute factor. The smile and the little arms circling her midriff warmed Aubrey from head to toe. “You’re the best cake lady in the world.”
This. She had the best job in the world.
“I would never break a pinkie promise,” she replied, her voice husky with emotion.
“Thank you so much, Aubrey.” Andy’s mom lifted the cake box out of Aubrey’s hands and detached her daughter from her waist.
“My pleasure. Sorry again about the mix-up.”
Aubrey jogged back to her Jeep without pausing to savor the moment. She had to get back to the bakery for closing. The adrenaline drained from her, leaving her limp and tired, and she wasn’t looking forward to the scrubbing and mopping waiting for her.
When she pulled up to the shop, she saw the SORRY WE MISSED YOU sign displayed on the door. It was perfectly askew, just the way she liked it, and the lights inside were dimmed to a soft glow. With confused wonder, she heaved her leaden body out of the Jeep and shuffled to the shop.
“Wow. Awesome adulting,” Aubrey said as gratitude squeezed her heart in a bear hug. Lily was halfway finished with the cleanup, showing more initiative than she ever had. Sniffing back silly tears, Aubrey grabbed a bottle of organic surface cleaner and a dish towel. “I really appreciate your help. The adrenaline wore off, and I’m running on empty. Thank you.”
“It’s…” Her teenage scowl slipped, and she suddenly looked so young and sweet. “You’re welcome.”
They cleaned in quiet harmony and closed up shop only half an hour late. Lily zoomed in and out of the locker room, securing her earbuds and pulling her hoodie over her head. She was halfway to the door when she waved good-bye without bothering to turn around. Aubrey smiled. Lily could pretend otherwise, but she liked her dorky boss.
Aubrey stuffed her arms into a black windbreaker and slung her purse across her torso. She reached for the doorknob but hesitated. The day didn’t end in complete disaster, but the disappearance of the original Frankencake niggled at the back of her mind. And her body still twitched from the ups and downs of the day. If she wanted some decent REM cycles, she had to decompress before