Baking Love (3 page)

“Knock, knock!”

Kate looked up. “Eric!”
What are you doing here?
“How’d you get in?”

“I ran into Jess as she was locking up, and she let me in. She told me she’s your assistant now.”

“Yeah, I hired her after I inherited the bakery. It turned out to be the best professional decision I’ve ever made because she’s damn good at decorating.”

“I bet you two kick ass together.”

“Some days more than others.” Kate ran her hand across the sketch of his wedding cake. “So what brought you here tonight?”

“I wanted to give you Cecilia’s mobile number and my new mobile number since we’re working together now.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from the back pocket of his jeans and handed it to Kate.

“My mobile number hasn’t changed, and neither has the bakery’s number, so you can call either one.”

“Okay.” Eric cleared his throat. “There’s one more thing.”

“What?”

“Cecilia and I discussed the groom’s cake. You can make it red.”

Why am I not surprised?
“Red, huh?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Either color is fine with me.”

Even after all this time, I can tell you’re lying.
“Your cakes will look awesome.”

“I know. Sullivan’s never disappoints.”

“I appreciate you choosing us, by the way. I’m flattered.”

“It never crossed my mind to choose anyone else.” Eric’s eyes twinkled. “You’re the best.”

“Thanks.”

He held her gaze, but didn’t reply. She noticed the corners of his mouth curl upward ever so slightly. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

He looked away. “Nothing. I’ll let you get back to work. Sorry if I startled you when I came in.”

Kate contemplated questioning him further, but decided against it.
He probably needs to go.
“You didn’t startle me. I’m glad you stopped by.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

Eric left through the back door of the bakery, and Kate’s thoughts immediately returned to his instructions to make the groom’s cake red. Anger filled her frame.
Cecilia gets the wedding cake she wants…picked, so Eric should get the groom’s cake he wants. The fish alone isn’t enough: he should get the color, too.

Resolve surged through her.
Like hell Eric will have to compromise.
Cecilia might’ve had the final say over him, but she didn’t have the final say over Kate for one simple reason: Kate was the person making the cake.

She laughed.
Eric’s groom’s cake is so going to be blue.

Tuesday, January 31

“I’m going to show you how to make your cake look like a basket,” Kate told the women in her decorating class. “To do it, you’ll need tip number forty-seven.” The women shuffled through their personal cake decorating kits for the appropriate tip while Kate attached hers to a pastry bag.

Jess arrived at the table. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she whispered to Kate. “Loraine Prescott is on the phone for you.”

“Loraine Prescott?”

“Yeah.”

“Did she say what she wants?”

“Only that she wants to talk to you.”

Nerves gripped Kate.
What’s this about?

“I’ll take over for you here,” Jess offered.

“Thanks.” Kate handed her the pastry bag and turned to the women. “Jess will walk you through the basketweave technique.” She dashed to the kitchen and picked up the phone. “This is Kate.”

“Hello, Kate. This is Loraine Prescott.”

“Hi, Mrs. Prescott. How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you. I’m calling this morning to extend you an invitation.”

Kate’s nerves gave way to curiosity.

“As I’m sure you surmised from the size cake we ordered, Cecilia and Eric’s wedding will be a huge affair,” Loraine continued. “There are scores of people involved, so it’s imperative everyone be on the same page. To that end, Walter and I are hosting a pre-rehearsal at the Wynnfield Estate the last weekend in February. We’d like you and your team to come—all expenses paid, of course.”

This is the first time I’ve ever heard of a pre-rehearsal.

“This is an opportunity to familiarize yourself with the venue so you’ll know what to expect the weekend of the wedding and can better prepare. We’d like you to see the inn on the estate, where Eric’s family will host the rehearsal dinner and where we’ll need the groom’s cake. We’d also like you to see the banquet hall at the Wynnfield House, where Walter and I will host the reception.” She paused. “Do you think you’ll be able to join us?”

“If you have a minute, I’ll check my calendar.”

“Sure. I’ll wait.”

Kate stepped over to the computer and clicked on her calendar. She looked to the last weekend in February.
Good, we’re free.
“We’ll be there,” she told Loraine. “What day would you like us to arrive?”

“You’re welcome to arrive on Friday so you’ll have the entire weekend.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll make reservations for you at the Wynnfield Inn for Friday and Saturday nights, if you’ll tell me how many rooms you’ll need.”

I want Mark to go with us in June, in case we need an extra set of hands—and if he’s going in June, he’s going in February.
“We’ll need two rooms.”

“Very good. The ceremony pre-rehearsal is that Saturday evening at five o’clock. If you’re finished with your work, we invite you to attend.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Prescott.”

“Thank you. We’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“See you then.” Kate hung up and walked back out to Jess.

“What was that about?” Jess asked.

“We’re going to the Wynnfield Estate.”

“I know, in June.”

“Actually, we’re going next month.”

Jess frowned. “Did they move the wedding up to February?”

“No. They’re having a pre-rehearsal, and Loraine asked us to attend.”

“A
pre-
rehearsal?”

“Yeah. Basically, it’s a trial run for everyone involved with the wedding.”

“Interesting.”

“I want Mark to go with us. We’re likely to need his help in June.”

“You got it. I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks.” Kate took a deep breath.

This wedding was starting to get very real.

Friday, February 24

Kate pulled up to the gatehouse and rolled her window down. “May I help you?” the guard asked.

“We’re here for the Prescott-Wagner pre-rehearsal,” Kate told him.

“Ah, yes, the pre-rehearsal.” He handed her a stack of pamphlets. “Here’s a map of the estate and information about the establishments throughout the property. Accommodations are at the Wynnfield Inn, and the pre-rehearsal is at the Wynnfield House tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

“Enjoy your weekend.”

Kate handed the pamphlets to Jess, who sat beside her in the front seat of the van, then rolled her window up and started down the drive.

Jess opened one of the brochures and began to read. ‘“The Wynnfield Estate, nestled in the heart of the North Carolina mountains, encompasses six thousand acres and includes a vineyard, garden, winery, inn, tavern, and the Wynnfield House itself. The house, commissioned by George Wynnfield in 1895, boasts 165,000 square feet and 230 rooms.”’

“Sold! I’ll take it!” Mark said emphatically from the passenger’s seat.

“You wish,” Jess laughed.

Kate rounded the corner, and the Wynnfield House came into view. “There it is.” She slowed down to take in the surreal sight. The cream-colored French château-style mansion bore exquisite architectural detail. Its smooth, slate gray roof was frequently interrupted by peaks and chimneys, causing the four-story home to stretch even farther into the sky. A long, rectangular driveway encompassed a perfectly-landscaped front yard and circular fountain. The pastel colors of the sunset illuminated the sky behind the house, acting as a backdrop for the entire scene.

“It looks like a painting,” Kate commented in awe.

Jess pulled her phone from her purse and snapped a photo. “I can see why Eric wants to get married here. It’s an architect’s dream home.”

“It sure is.”
At least something about this wedding reflects Eric’s tastes.

“There’s a sign for the inn,” Mark pointed out.

Kate turned onto another paved road and followed more signs through a heavily wooded section of the property. Before long, the trees opened up to reveal another four-story French château-style structure, this one visibly more modest in size.

Jess glanced at the brochure in her lap. “This is the Wynnfield Inn.”

The cream-colored inn donned a light grey roof dotted with several peaks and a chimney. A decorative stone fountain graced the terrace outside the main entrance, and a circular pool set to one side of the inn. A meticulously-groomed front yard separated the inn from the parking lot, and mountains towered in the distance.

“It’s beautiful,” Jess swooned. She turned to Mark. “Maybe we should get married at the Wynnfield Estate, too.”

“Whatever you want, babe,” he smiled.

As Jess and Mark launched into a discussion of their wedding plans, an unexpected pang of jealously struck Kate.
That’s odd.
She glanced over at her friends.
Am I jealous of Jess and Mark? No. While I’m more than ready to find the man of my dreams and get married, I’m not jealous of them.
She looked out the windshield again at the Wynnfield Inn.
Am I jealous of Cecilia and Eric’s picturesque wedding locale? No. This place is gorgeous, but that’s not it, either.
She thought about the eight-tiered wedding cake she’d bring to the Wynnfield House in a matter of months.
Am I jealous of Cecilia’s extravagant wedding plans?
Kate hesitated.
I’m not jealous of the wedding Cecilia will have.

I’m jealous of Cecilia.

Kate nearly laughed out loud.
I must be mistaken! I mean, how the hell could I be jealous of a woman I can barely even stand? I don’t envy her wealth—or her personality—so what’s left?

Kate pushed the feeling aside…but was disturbed by the fact she couldn’t dismiss it entirely.

Saturday, February 25

Kate parked at the back of the Wynnfield House. She, Jess, and Mark walked up one of the service entrance ramps, through the holding area, down a staff hallway, and into the banquet hall.

“Rolling cart?” Mark asked.

“Too many surface changes,” Kate answered. “We’re carrying.”

“Wonder which table is ours,” Jess said.

Kate scanned the enormous banquet hall.
There are circular tables everywhere.
“I have no idea. I’ll go find Loraine.”

She stepped into the main hallway of the house and immediately heard talking and laughter.
Bingo.
She followed the sounds—and the smells—a few feet down the hall to a closed door. She peered through the small, square window and discovered a kitchen full of women—including Cecilia, who sat at a counter opposite several chefs.
Looks like she’s sampling food.

Kate watched Cecilia turn from the food to talk to one of the women.
Cecilia is smiling. She’s laughing. She’s…being nice.

Is this the same woman?

“Kate?”

She spun around. “Loraine! I was just looking for you.”
Talk fast so she won’t have a chance to ask why you were spying on her daughter.
“Can you show me where you’d like us to set up the wedding cake?”

“Of course,” Loraine smiled. She led Kate back down the hall and to the table in the center of the banquet hall. “This table is yours.”

Kate glanced across the room at the staff hallway leading to the holding area leading to the ramp leading to their van.
That’s a long way to carry.

“Will this placement work for you?” Loraine asked.

It’s not ideal.
“Absolutely.”

“Great.”

“Do you know when the banquet hall will be decorated for the reception? We want to make sure the cake table is ready when we arrive.”

“The banquet hall will be decorated the day before the wedding, which means your table will be ready whenever you get here on Saturday.”

“Great, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Loraine headed toward the door, and Jess and Mark came over to Kate. She motioned toward the table. “This is it.”

“It’d be nice if they’d move it closer to where we’ll be bringing in the cake,” Mark mused.

Jess stared at him. “Are
you
going to ask Loraine Prescott to reposition this table?”

He paused. “Good point. We’ll make it work.”

“You’re right—we
will
make it work,” Kate said with renewed resolve. “We’ll assemble that eight-tiered wedding cake on this very table as it sits in this very spot, and it’ll look incredible.”

“Damn right,” Jess nodded.

* * * *

The gentleman extended his hand to Kate. “I’m Michael Spartan, manager of the Wynnfield Inn.”

Kate shook his hand. “I’m Kate Sullivan, and this is Jess Turner and Mark Stevens. We’re Sullivan’s Cakery.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Shall we walk and talk?”

“Sure.”

As they made their way through the lobby of the Wynnfield Inn, Michael flipped through the pages on his clipboard. “I understand you’re providing the groom’s cake for the Prescott-Wagner rehearsal dinner.”

“That’s correct.”

“Very good.” Michael came to rest on one of the pages. “Frank and Ellen Wagner, the groom’s parents, have reserved The Overlook Room for the occasion. You’ll be glad to know this ballroom connects to the kitchen, where you can keep the groom’s cake until you’re ready to set it up.”

“The two rooms are close together? That
is
good news,” Jess chuckled.

“Makes your job easier, huh?”

Kate smiled.
This guy gets it.

“When are you planning to arrive at the inn that weekend?” Michael asked.