She grinned. “Ah yes. The power of a Charismatic Cupcake.”
“Well, I wondered if we could make something delicious that wasn’t cooked. They could stay on their raw-food diet and still have something yummy.”
She clapped her hands. “That’s wonderful! How very California of you.”
He nodded and started fitting the mixture into the cupcake tins. “Want to help me make the icing? It includes avocado.”
“I’ll watch.”
He walked to the refrigerator and removed several avocadoes. The cool air felt good on his still-warm face.
“Quentin.”
“Hmmm?”
“Does this have something to do with your friend? The one who came to see me?”
He swallowed and carried the ingredients to the counter. “Indirectly. He pointed out the problem to me.” Okay, stay calm. “Of course, that was a source of disagreement between us, and while I might create a special raw cupcake, I’m not going to be converting entirely to vegan food. After all, how could the world survive without cream cheese?” His laugh sounded pretty phony. “I’m afraid cupcakes will never be acceptable to Micah. He’s pretty fanatical.”
“He seemed so nice.” Her voice was soft.
His throat felt like someone stuffed a whole avocado down it. “He is nice.”
“Then why can’t you be friends?”
Why was she being like this? She never pushed him. “He doesn’t want to be, dear. He pointed out how little we had in common.”
“But he came to see me.”
“He didn’t come to see you. He came to see Dharmaram.”
“But he seemed so anxious to talk to me. Not to Dharmaram.”
Enough! He turned to her. “Dharmaram is his boyfriend, Mary Beth. He’s gay. He came to see his gay boyfriend. Not you. Not me. This is not South Carolina, where gay men pretend they’re ‘just not the marrying kind.’ You have to get used to that, dear. We both have to get used to that.” Heat pressed behind his eyes. Total hell, a tear escaped, and he slapped a hand at his cheek. “Excuse me. I have to go to the men’s room.”
He hurried down the hall and slid into the small employee restroom, trying to close the door softly. He wanted to slam it. If he beat the mirror with his shoe, was there a chance anyone would believe it was an accident? He couldn’t do this. Back home, he knew what his life was about. Pretense. Here? Everyone went around being themselves so much it was frightening. Maybe he just didn’t belong here.
He stared in the mirror at his girlie face. Get it together. He wasn’t here for himself; he was here for Mary Beth. He had something to live for. Her. While she was here, this was home. He didn’t need anything else. He washed his hands and walked back into the kitchen.
Mary Beth looked up with a sweet smile. “I believe I have this frosting recipe conquered.”
Not a word about his meltdown. Oh yes, they both did South Carolina so well.
MICAH DRAGGED himself through the kitchen and covered one more pot of homemade soup to put in the refrigerator. This day was eternal and awful, but he didn’t want it to end. When it ended, he had to go home. Home. What a fucking joke. He felt like a stranger in his own house. Dharmaram had been there five days, and it felt like five years. Micah’s time without Quentin? That felt like five centuries.
“Hey. You look lower than Michael Phelps’s resting heart rate. What’s going on?” Kathy peered over his shoulder from behind.
“Yeah. I let Dharmaram move back in.” He cringed. He’d been avoiding telling her because he knew—
“You what? Jesus fucking Christ!” Yep, that’s what he knew. He sighed. She just kept yelling. “Why would you do such a dumb thing?”
“Long story.” He put another pot in the refrigerator and washed the lentils off his hands.
She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. “I’ve got about three minutes until I have to meet Dorrie, so condense.”
“He’s blackmailing me.”
“What?”
“I met this guy I really like who isn’t out to his grandmother. Grandma turns out to be a student of Dharmaram’s, and through a series of unfortunate events, the asshole knows about the grandson. He threatens to tell unless I let him live with me.”
“That lower-than-dirt, genuine grade-A rat.”
“Yeah.”
“So who is this guy? Do I know him?”
“No. Quentin Darby. He owns the cupcake store everyone’s talking about.”
She laughed—hard.
Micah frowned. “What? I know it’s weird, but he’s a really nice guy.”
She shook her head and managed to stop laughing. “That explains a lot.”
“What?”
“Come with me.” She led him out of the kitchen to the serving window. “Look.”
Micah leaned out and observed the few remaining customers still on the patio under the heaters. One group of four sat at the table around the big tree, and every one of them was eating a cupcake. But they looked different. “Uh, excuse me.”
One of the guys, not a regular, looked up. “Yes?”
“Can you tell me what you’re eating?”
“Sure. It’s this really cool vanilla cupcake with lime frosting. And believe it or not, it’s completely raw.”
Micah’s mouth opened. “No shit?”
The guy laughed. “No shit.”
Kathy put a hand on his shoulder. “People have been coming in all day eating cupcakes, and a bunch of them had those raw ones. You must have had a big impact.”
Micah stepped back from the window and felt tears pushing behind his eyes.
Kathy frowned. “Why does that upset you?”
“I gave him such a hard time about the regular cupcakes. Blamed him for leading my customers astray. Told him we had, oh shit, nothing in common.”
“So you’re trying to make it up to him by taking in Dharmaram?”
Micah shook his head. “No. I didn’t tell Quentin about the blackmail. He saw me with Dharmaram at my house. Hell, I don’t even know what he thinks. It’s got to be awful. But if I tell Quentin about Dharmaram’s blackmail, it’ll force his hand and
