of the two layers.”
She picked up a premade rose and gently set it into place. “The process isn’t that difficult, but it’s time consuming.”
Neda laughed. “Not to mention that you have to be able to design the cake in the first place and make all the decorations.”
“It helps.”
“I could never do that.” She set her notepad on a kitchen chair then dug in her bag for her digital camera. “Okay, let me take some general pictures, then I want to shoot you decorating this cake.”
“Sure.”
Gracie worked on the shower cake while Neda circled her and took pictures. There was a partially assembled wedding cake on the other counter and Gracie worked on that as well. As Neda took photos, she asked questions.
“Why wedding cakes?”
“I like making them. I enjoy the challenge of coming up with a new design. I like being a part of a couple’s special day.”
“Any disasters?”
Gracie sighed. “Someone dropped the top layer once. The bride’s brother had picked up the cake, which was in six boxes. I was going to assemble it later. I received a frantic phone call that the top layer, including the blown- glass antique ornament, had been destroyed.”
Neda stared at her. “What did you do?”
Gracie slipped three more roses in place. “I was making another cake for the following day and they were about the same size. I put a new top layer in the oven for bride number two and quickly changed the frosting on the one I already had. We still didn’t have an ornament, so I put a call in to the florist. By the time I arrived at the reception location, she had delivered five dozen miniature roses in the bride’s colors.”
Gracie shivered at the memory. “It was a three-layer cake with pillars in between, so everything was visible. I had less than an hour to make it all work. I pretty much pulled off most of my decorations, to make the bottom two layers more plain, then I cut the rose stems off and piled the buds on each layer. I used leftover petals to dress up the table and tacked a few decorations on the top layer. No one ever knew, except the immediate family.”
“Talk about pressure,” Neda said.
“It got my heart racing.”
Neda took several more pictures, asked a couple more questions, then announced that the interview was finished.
“I’m so impressed,” the reporter said. “I love your work and I’m going to say that in my article.” Neda loaded up her bag. “I’m engaged. We’re thinking of a Christmas wedding. Do you still have room in your schedule for my cake?”
Gracie smiled. “Absolutely. Let me give you a card. You can call me in the next month or so and we can talk about what you’d like. Holiday wedding cakes can be so beautiful. All those jewel tones.”
“Good. Thanks. You’ve been terrific.”
“My pleasure.”
Gracie led her to the front door, then walked her out to her car. As they approached Neda’s Mustang, Gracie noticed a couple of boxes lying on the driveway next to her own car.
“What are those?” she asked as she moved closer.
When she caught sight of the familiar
“What is it?” Neda asked.
Gracie couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. She could only stare at the two boxes that had obviously fallen out of her Subaru. No wonder, what with the back end of the vehicle being jam packed with what looked like hundreds of cake mix boxes.
“Are you kidding?” the reporter asked, sounding disgusted. “You use cake mix? That’s your secret ingredient?”
“No! These aren’t mine. You didn’t see them when you drove up. I haven’t used a cake mix since I was twelve. Someone did this.”
Neda shook her head. “Oh, sure. Someone knew I was coming and just happened to figure out when so they could plant this on you. Forget what I said about you making my wedding cake.”
Gracie picked up the boxes. They were full. “You have to believe me.”
“I don’t think so. You’re not special after all. I should have known.”
Neda opened her car door and tossed in her bag. When she turned around, Gracie saw the digital camera in her hand. Before Gracie could stop her, she’d already taken half a dozen pictures.
“Oh, and never mind about the article. We’re a reputable magazine,” Neda said as she climbed in her car. “I can’t believe you did this. Don’t you realize you’re spoiling people’s weddings? That’s so low. You seemed so nice, too, but I guess that was as much a lie as your cakes. You probably didn’t even make those decorations yourself. That’s why they were all stacked like that. You bought them somewhere.”
With that Neda slammed her door and sped away. Gracie stared after her. This couldn’t be happening, she told herself. It just couldn’t.
But it was, she thought as she stared at the cake box in her hand. Someone had set her up. And there was only one name she could think of:
Pam.
But even as she told herself no one else would bother, she honestly couldn’t think of a single reason as to why Pam would do this to her. The woman had been nothing but friendly and pleasant since Gracie moved back. She’d even rented out her kitchen.
Gracie fought tears as she dropped the boxes in the trash. Then she walked in the house, grabbed her purse, made sure the oven was off, then hurried to her car.
RILEY WRAPPED UP the meeting and walked back to his office. As he crossed in front of the elevators, they opened and Gracie stepped out. He took one look at her face and knew the worst-whatever that might be-had happened.
“What?” he asked as he put his arm around her and led her into his office. “Is someone hurt?”
She shook her head and gulped in a breath. “The cakes. I don’t understand how it happened. I told a few people, but no one knew when exactly. I think it’s Pam, but why? She’s been nice. It can’t be Jill, and I want to suspect my sisters but I never even told them. God forbid we talk about anything but them.”
He ushered her inside and closed the door. When they were alone and in private, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her.
“Start at the beginning,” he said gently. “Tell me what happened.”
Instead, she began to cry. His first clue was the long silence. Then her body began to shake and finally he heard the soft sobs.
“I’m ruined,” she managed after a few minutes. “Completely ruined.”
“Not possible,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “What happened?”
Her answer was to cry harder. Riley had never been a fan of tears on a woman-they’d always seemed like a manipulation. But with Gracie, he felt differently. She didn’t want anything from him-except possibly for him to ease her pain.
She sniffed. “I need a tissue.”
He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her.
She blotted her face, then turned from him and blew her nose.
“I’m not attractive when I cry. You should look away.”
He pulled her close again. “Right. Because I’m just in this because of how you look. Tell me what happened.”
“I had my interview with the bridal magazine person today.”
“Okay and then what?” He led her over to the sofa in the corner and tugged her down next to him. After angling toward her, he cupped her face. “I know you were charming and brilliant and you made a fan.”
Tears filled her blue eyes. “You’d think, wouldn’t you? She even asked me to bake her wedding cake. She’s getting married in December. But now…”
