Amanda tugged at the hem of her coat and patted her chest. “I tryto look the part when delivering wedding cakes.”
Quinn found the hint of self-deprecation endearing. “It’sdefinitely working. You could bark out orders like Gordon Ramsay and I have nodoubt you’d send a whole room scurrying to do your bidding. Myself included.”
The woman behind the register—Tanya?—chimed in. “Maybe don’t giveher ideas.”
Amanda rolled her eyes. “Right, because I’m so prone to yelling.”
Quinn squinted at the name tag on her apron. Yes, Tanya.
Tanya shrugged. “I don’t want you getting any ideas.”
Quinn tried for a playful smile. “Sorry.”
“Mm-hmm. Likely story,” Tanya said.
Amanda crossed her arms. She might not yell, but she lookedplenty fierce without it. “Not that I wouldn’t love to stay and be harassed bythe two of you, but I do have a wedding cake to deliver.”
“Sorry. Really. Don’t let me keep you.” Quinn meant it that time.
Amanda’s smile told her she wasn’t really mad. “We’re meetingnext week, right?”
She conjured the image of her calendar. “Yes. Tuesday.”
“Fantastic. I’ll see you then.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” Quinn sighed. In more ways than one.
“Same. Enjoy your cupcakes.”
Amanda left and Quinn felt silly stopping in for cupcakes withoutany real occasion to do so. Of course, she’d feel even sillier leavingempty-handed. She turned her attention to Tanya. “So, what do you recommend?”
Tanya regarded her with a trace of suspicion. “You know I didn’tmean anything by that. Not really.”
Although unnecessary, she appreciated the sentiment of thedisclaimer. “I take it as a healthy working relationship when employees cangive the boss grief.” She lifted a hand. “Good-naturedly, of course.”
Tanya nodded slowly and her smile returned. “Of course.”
She had no way of knowing how close Amanda and Tanya were, or ifTanya would have any involvement in the project. But it certainly couldn’t hurtto be on her good side. “Glad we cleared that up. Now, really, what do yourecommend?”
“Are you bringing them home to the family or are they for you?”
Was she fishing? Or judging? “Does it matter?”
Tanya’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe.”
Whatever the reason, Quinn decided Tanya taking a personalinterest in her was a good sign. Of what, she couldn’t say. But it gave her agood feeling. “Just me.”
The answer seemed satisfactory. “If you like chocolate, I’d gowith mocha or the German chocolate. If you’re fruity, the blueberry-lemon haslocal blueberries in the filling.”
They all sounded fantastic. “Yes.”
“Yes to what?”
“All of them. And add a fourth. Surprise me.”
Tanya picked up a box but pointed at Quinn before she started tofill it. “I appreciate a woman with a sweet tooth.”
“Oh, good. I was afraid you might be judging my life choices.”
She loaded the cupcakes and closed the box with a sticker. “Idon’t know you well enough for that. We’ll see.”
Quinn laughed as she pulled out her wallet. “Fair enough.”
Tanya waved her off. “On the house.”
“You really don’t need to—”
“You’re working with the boss, you’re treated like family. Orstaff. Same difference.”
“Thank you.” Quinn accepted the box. “That could be dangerous,but thank you.”
Tanya smirked. “You enjoy those and we’ll see you on Tuesday.”
“I have no doubt I will. Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
Quinn returned to her car, setting the box carefully on the seatnext to her. She started the drive home, resisting the urge to dig in. Shewanted to savor each and every one. Instead, she replayed the conversation,both with Amanda and her assistant. Although sidekick might be a more accuratedescription.
She hadn’t gone in with expectations, but the interaction managedto be not at all what she would have expected. Not bad, of course. Justunexpected. She had a lot of the unexpected in her life these days. Perhapsthis project would fall into the category of pleasant surprise. And wouldn’tthat be nice for a change?
Chapter Five
Amanda moved around the kitchen, completely in her elementand utterly content. Okay, mostly content. Content save the giant cloud of whatthe fuck was I thinking following her around the last few days. Content asidefrom wondering what the hell to do next or how to respond to the flirty textsMel had taken to sending during the day.
Erin sniffed the air. “I love it when dinner is at your place.”
“Hey.” Jack’s and Julia’s protests came out in unison.
“You’re both amazing cooks, but Amanda cooks and bakes.” She put theemphasis on “and.”
Amanda pulled the pan of chicken picatta from the oven. “It’s nota competition.”
“It’s okay.” Jack wandered over and gestured to the pan. “I don’tmind losing to that.”
Julia nodded. “Yeah.”
Amanda brought the pan to the table out on the deck, thenreturned to the kitchen for the salad and roasted potatoes. “I don’t care whocooks. I love all our dinner parties.”
“Hear, hear.” Julia lifted her glass and everyone clinked atoast.
She’d lucked out in the friend department. An unlikely crew in away, but they clicked and it just worked. At this point, there was nothing shedidn’t share with them. Well, practically nothing. She remained undecided rethe whole Mel situation. She wanted to. They’d tease her but come through withsupport and wisdom and maybe a knock upside the head. The problem was, tellingthem made it one hundred percent real. Once she confided, there would be nopretending it didn’t happen.
Not that Mel and her texts were letting her do much pretending.She should probably get it out there so she could process it and get on withher life. Because that’s what she wanted, right? To accept it for what it wasand go back to life as usual. Why did the idea make her sad?
She shook off the question and the emotions and everything else.Maybe she’d try to get a handle on things first. She picked up the salad bowland turned, almost running into Jack.
He narrowed his eyes and looked her up and down. “You had sex.”
“What?” Her reply pitched higher than she would have liked. Shecleared her throat. “What?”
He pointed at her and moved his finger up and down to indicatethe length of her. “You had sex with someone. I can tell.”
“What can you tell?” Erin appeared behind him as if on cue.
There went any notion of getting a handle on the situation.“Nothing.”
At the same
