a scoop of the finest Ugandan vanilla bean ice cream.”
“Wow,” Gretchen said with just enough snark for Liv to decide they should be BFFs. “I’m almost afraid to eat it.”
“How about a picture?” Royce said, walking behind Gretchen’s chair to pose.
Just once, Liv would love to see someone say no to a photo.
And wonder of wonders, today would be that day.
“Oh, that’s—no, I’m fine,” Gretchen said, and somewhere in the world, angels began to sing. If only Liv were telepathic, because her brain was screaming YOU ARE MY BEST FRIEND.
Royce’s eyebrow twitched again. It was bad enough that a woman had said no to a picture. But to do so in front of a staff member. Oh, the raging would be loud tonight. But definitely worth it.
Liv quietly cleared her throat and was just about to set the cupcake on the table when—
“Hey, I know you.” Mack leaned forward, studying her face. “You’re Thea’s sister.”
Without waiting for her to confirm or deny, Mack nodded at his date. “This is amazing. I had no idea she worked here. I’ve told you about Gavin, right? This is his sister-in-law.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Gretchen said. “I’d shake your hand, but obviously your hands are full. This looks delicious by the way. Thank you.”
Liv smiled. “Nice to meet you.”
Royce cleared his throat. Oh, shit. She’d said words, hadn’t she? That was bad. She was going to pay for that later.
“I swear, I didn’t know you worked here,” Mack said, still clueless. “Gavin only said that you worked at a restaurant downtown.”
“Olivia has worked for me for several months,” Royce said, not to be left out.
“A year,” Liv corrected quietly. Royce cleared his throat again. Quietly. Firmly. You are so dead-ly.
Mack suddenly stood. “We should get a picture. I’ll send it to Gavin.”
Liv darted a glance at Royce, whose forced smile suggested he was not happy about being overshadowed. He didn’t share the camera lens with anyone.
“I appreciate the gesture,” Liv said steadily. “But I prefer to stay behind the scenes.”
“No way,” Mack said. “You should get credit for your work.”
Liv imagined the top of Royce’s head literally blowing off, along with his toupee, but he was too much of a showman to do anything besides smile and say, “Absolutely. Olivia, please.”
She was going to pay for this later. It didn’t matter that she’d done nothing to encourage this. Royce wouldn’t see it that way.
“Wait,” Mack said. “Do you prefer Liv or Olivia? I’ve only ever heard Gavin call you Liv.”
“Liv, actually. But Royce calls me Olivia.”
“Why?”
Liv looked up. “Yeah, Royce. Why?”
Royce’s fake smile was so cold that it practically hummed “Ice Ice Baby.”
Mack shrugged and handed his phone across the table to Royce. Liv’s mouth fell open. He was . . . he was asking Royce to take the picture? No one did that to Royce. No one. OMG, do not smile. Do not smile. If she smiled, she would end up in the cupcake, not serving it.
Royce nodded, still smiling, but Liv knew that smile. It hid a boiling fury that Royce would certainly unleash later in a torrent of flying spittle and I’ve met dead slabs of lamb smarter than you outbursts. But what the hell was Liv supposed to do? Hit Mack over the head with her tray and run away?
Actually, that was a tempting idea.
Mack rounded the table and stood next to Liv. He slung an arm around her shoulders and—
The tray wobbled in her hands. She tried to correct, tried to steady it with her other hand, but her reflexes were too late.
Time slowed to the blurry speed of a horror movie as the cupcake slid to the edge of the tray. It balanced there for a moment, teetered like a car in a movie that stops just in time before plunging over the edge of a cliff.
It was just long enough for her entire career to flash before her eyes. Long enough for her to imagine all the ways she was going to kill Braden Mack for this. Long enough for a single word to drag along the length of her tongue. “Fuuucck . . .”
Then gravity did its thing.
And the cupcake landed in Gretchen’s lap.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Liv dropped to her knees next to Gretchen’s chair.
“It’s okay,” Gretchen told Liv. She held her hands aloft, fingers coated with frosting.
“This is my fault,” Mack said. “I knocked the tray out of her hands.”
“Olivia, go to the kitchen,” Royce barked. “We will have another one