Picking him up and hugging him, she rubbed her cheek against his silky, smooth fur. Scooter wiggled away, not content with being hugged, and began to chew at the edge of her t-shirt.
Laughing, she showered him with kisses. "I really don't deserve you, you know that?" she asked the puppy. He was too busy with her t-shirt to reply.
"So, what should I do, Scoot?" She asked. "I can't go to that horrible prelaunch party now. No way! I don't want to bump into Brandon again. I thought I'd never see his face again, and I was perfectly happy that way!"
Which wasn't entirely true. A voice in her head reminded her that every once in a while, Rachel had the habit of checking Brandon out on Facebook, just to see what he was up to. She hadn't done that in a few months now, though. She had definitely moved on.
"Right. No reason to feel unhappy. It's just a random stranger. I can ignore him all evening." Rachel looked down at Scooter, who'd fallen asleep in her lap with the edge of her t-shirt still in his mouth. "What do you say, Scoot? Or shall I just call Tricia and tell her I have the black plague and can't make it?"
She fell asleep thinking about it, and woke in the darkness to the sound of knocks on her back door. Blinking, she switched on the light and headed to the kitchen, vaguely aware that her hair was messy, and there was drool all over her t-shirt from where Scooter had chewed it.
She opened the door, and Scott Tanner suppressed a smile at the sight of her.
"Interesting choice of dress for the party," he said, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow.
"I could say the same." Rachel groaned. He was wearing a leather jacket with three red stripes on one sleeve, over a dark t-shirt and fresh jeans. He looked down at his outfit and said, "It's awesome, right? I custom-made it. Prince Ezekiel wears this same jacket in Nebula Next. I'm hoping Stan will autograph it. I even bought a marker that works on leather. Or do you think it'll be too tacky to ask for one?
"Ah . . ." Rachel didn't get time to reply. He barged in past her, got on his knees, and started playing with Scooter, who had gone into a frenzy and was trying to lick him all over.
"I'm going to kidnap this here dog and keep him with me," Scott said with a laugh. "I've never seen a more . . ." His cheerful voice suddenly dropped off, as he got a look at her face. "Have you been crying?"
Rachel immediately raised a hand to her eyes, and shook her head. "No. Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. Why would I cry? I've got no reason to cry."
He stood up, and walked over to her. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he stared down into her eyes. His voice was deep and calm. "Rachel, what's up? You can talk to me."
She bit her lip. "Ex-fiancé issues," she said.
"Want me to beat him up for you?" Scott laughed as he said it, but his eyes were deadly serious. His hands seemed to radiate heat on her shoulders, warming her.
"Not unless you want to annoy Stan Stickman," Rachel said.
"Brandon's his new assistant, apparently. I saw him again today, and it was . . . it was just a shock, you know?"
"Oh." Scott stepped away, looking down at his hands as though embarrassed. "You still like the guy? Having second thoughts about breaking up?"
"Far from it. I despise Brandon," Rachel's voice was fierce. "I'd happily never see him again. In fact, I was thinking maybe I should skip the party."
"You could do that," Scott agreed. "Or, and it's just an idea, you could come with me, and we could make him jealous."
Rachel laughed and gave him a light slap on the shoulder. "As if."
"Hey! I'm good-looking enough that a guy can get jealous. Unless your ex is a supermodel of some sort."
"Actually he used to be a part-time model when he was a teenager," Rachel said.
Scott scratched the back of his head. "Guess we'd better think of another plan, then."
"I mean . . . I'm not saying you aren't good-looking. I mean, I- It's just—" Rachel groaned inwardly. She was such an idiot.
Scott shook his head. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'll tell you what. Let me make you some coffee, and we can hang out a bit before I go to the party. I totally understand why you don't want to come."
"No, no. You're right. I should face him. I can't hide in my house just because he chose to show up unexpectedly." Rachel squared her shoulders. "Stay here and play with Scooter a bit; I'll be right down."
Scott gave her a thumbs-up as she raced up the stairs.
Half an hour later, she stepped back downstairs, dressed in a red miniskirt and a black, long-sleeved top with a scoop neck. She'd put her hair up into a simple topknot, slipped on silver stilettos, and wore silver hoop earrings as her only jewelry.
Scott pretended to stagger back and clutched the counter, putting one hand up as a shield before his eyes.
"Stop, you're killing me," he said.
"Shut up . . ." She blushed. "Do I look ok?"
"Ok? Your ex will be dead by the end of the night at this rate."
"I wish,” she sighed. "Well, not really. But still, maybe he'll be in pain at least."
"Oh, you bet." Scott offered her his arm. "Come on, I want to be there when his jaw drops to the floor."
"Thanks Scott." Rachel linked her arm through his, and then placed a palm on his forearm. "I'll really need some support tonight."
"What are friends for?" Scott smiled. It came out looking more like a grimace. "Let's go."
*****
Chapter 4
Exes and Parties Don't Mix Well
As they walked down to Emily and Jay's house, Scott kept up an excited flow of information on Nebula Next. He was describing the plot to Rachel in detail, and even making excited hand gestures to play out the sword fight scenes, when he suddenly paused. Emily and Jay's house was the last on the left in a dimly lit but residential alley. A man was leaning against a lamppost opposite their home, scrolling his phone and occasionally looking up at their two-story house.
"Can I help you, buddy?" Scott's voice was hard, his sheriff instincts instantly back into play.
The man looked up, startled, his eyes widening. He was in his early twenties, chubby and pimpled, with dark hair that looked as though it hadn't been washed in several weeks. Shaking his head, he tried to bluster. "Do you have a problem?"
"No, just wondering why you're hanging outside my nephew's house, is all," Scott replied.
"I was . . . waiting for my friend," the man replied. "Looks like she isn't going to show. Guess I better head home now."
"Yeah, you'd better," Scott said flatly. "What's your friend's name, then?"
But the man was already walking away, his fists jammed into his pockets. He turned back to give Rachel and Scott a final glare, before disappearing around the corner.
"What was that about?" Rachel asked, confused.
Scott shrugged. "There's all kinds of weirdos in the world, I guess. I didn't like the looks of this one."
"Judgy, aren't you? He was just standing there."
"He can go stand somewhere else," Scott growled. Rachel bit down a smile.
"What?" he asked her.
"Nothing. You're just . . . sweet. One moment you're fanboying about Nebula Next, then you're in protective-bear mode."
"I guess my job makes me a little paranoid." Scott laughed. "Sorry. Emily and little Ollie are the only blood relatives I have left in this world. I guess I'm overprotective."
"That's not a bad thing." Rachel squeezed his hand. "Come on. Emily will be waiting."
The party was held in Emily and Jay's backyard. It was a small square lawn surrounded by a neat hedge as border and dotted with the occasional palm tree. Emily had put up a string of multicolored lights from one tree to the roof of her house, and it dangled above them, looking like a queue of fireflies. A large table lay in the center with a plaid tablecloth upon it. A bowl of fresh grapes was the centerpiece.
"Awesome." Scott leaned over, popped a grape into his mouth, and got a harried look from Emily.
"Don't go ruining my setup, Scott. I've been working
on it all day!"
"I'll say." Jay, dressed casually in a polo t-shirt instead of his usual lawyerly suits, stepped up and slung a hand around Emily. "Your sister's been biting my head off all day too."
"Only because you're slow as a slug when I tell you to do anything," she retorted.
"Or maybe, because you're very anxious and excited about Stan Stickman coming over!" Jay smiled.
"I still don't know how you managed to get him to agree to a party like this," Emily said. "But I'm so glad you did." Reaching up on her tiptoes, she planted a kiss on Jay's cheek. "Best present ever by the best husband ever."
"Are you involved in the book release somehow?" Rachel asked Jay.
"Not exactly. But I worked for Stan when Dorothy started divorce proceedings on him . . ." Jay shook his head with a sigh. "What a colossal mess that was."
"Why? What happened?" Rachel asked.
Jay shook his head. "Come on, you know I'm not going to gossip about a client, Rachel."
"Your client will gossip about it himself." Emily laughed. "Everyone in town has heard all about how Dorothy is more wicked witch of Oz than the sweet farm girl from Kansas now."
"Everyone except me, clearly," Rachel pointed out. "By the way, Jay, do you know Stan Stickman's new assistant?"
"New assistant?" Jay scrunched his face and scratched his chin. "Oh that hipster-looking guy? Yeah, he's working for free in return for Stan's writing advice, apparently. If you ask me, he got a sour deal, and he doesn't look too happy."
"You should ask Rachel if she knows Stan Stickman's new assistant," Scott said, popping another grape into his mouth and waggling his eyebrows.
Emily caught her brother's look and leaned in. "Do you know him? I know he's from San Francisco but it's a big city so I didn't think you would."
"Well, I—"
The doorbell buzzed and Emily jumped as though she'd been bitten. "Ok. This is it, it's him! It's Stan! Do I look ok? This outfit isn't too try-hard, right?"
Jay rubbed her shoulder. "You look fantastic, and elegant, and Stan will be very pleased to meet you. Let me get the door."
"No, let me." Scott jumped in.
"No, I've got it. It's alright." Emily pushed them both aside as she ran off to open the door.
Rachel hugged herself and gave a little shiver. Goose bumps erupted all over her arms. Her stomach was tangled up in knots at the thought of really meeting Brandon again after all this time. Suddenly, her makeup, and her dress seemed a little too obvious. He'd see that she was still not over him, and maybe he'd feel triumphant.
The French doors opened up, and Emily led two men out into the backyard. The first man wore a dark suit, and had a perfect, full head of flowing, silver hair. From the way he held himself and walked, Rachel could tell immediately that he'd been in the services. The second man was tall, bald, and thin, and although he wore a suit, it looked rather shabby and worn.
"Rachel, I'm happy to introduce to you Calvin Donaldson," Jay said, introducing her to the first man. "He's twice served as senator in congress, and used to be an astronaut when he was younger."
"Lovely to meet you." Calvin had a deep baritone voice and stood tall at six feet three dwarfing the other man and just about reaching Jay's height. He gripped Rachel's hand tightly as he shook it. She noticed that he had a small scar on his wrist. "I'm mostly retired now, though I try and help out Swaddle any way I can."
"Becoming mayor would definitely be a big help," Jay said. "Are you planning on running this year?"
Calvin smiled enigmatically. "If the people want me to serve, I'd be honored to."
"The people always want you," the second man spoke in a thin, reedy voice.
"Oh, excuse me, I'd like to introduce you to my assistant and brain wizard, Wilbur Kuhn," Calvin said, putting his hand on Wilbur's back. "Wilbur should get the credit for everything I achieve. Unfortunately for him, I greedily lap it up."
Wilbur's chest puffed as he vigorously shook hands with Rachel, but Rachel had already zoned out. The doorbell had rung again, and this time, she was sure that she could hear Brandon's voice. Sure enough, Emily appeared moments later, bringing Brandon and Stan Stickman with her. Rachel felt her breathing grow rapid and her legs begin to shake a bit. To her surprise, a hand was slung around her shoulders, as Scott came up to her.
"Everything ok?" Scott leaned over and whispered into her ear. His cheek was touching hers, and she could feel the soft furriness of his beard.
Rachel nodded, and managed to whisper, "Thanks."
Brandon made a big show of ignoring her. He acted as though he were so busy conversing with Emily that he hadn't seen her at all, until she approached him and tapped him on the shoulder. Then he gave a little cry of surprise.
"So Rachel! It is you! I thought I was dreaming earlier at Tricia's bookstore." Brandon enveloped her in a warm hug that smelled of coconut and musk.
"Brandon." Rachel gave him the briefest of nods, and realized that he'd already won round one by making her come up to him instead of the other way around.
"Hi." Scott shook hands with Brandon. "Don't believe we've met? I'm Emily's brother, Scott."
"Hi." Brandon looked a little peeved as his gaze shifted from Rachel to Scott. Turning his attention back to Rachel, he said, "So we're back in the same town? Can you believe it? We should really catch up."
"Won't you introduce us to your boss?" Rachel asked, ignoring this and deliberately putting a hand on Scott's back. "Scott here is a big fan of his work."
Brandon's face didn't precisely fold into a scowl, but she knew he was just barely holding it back. "Sure. Mr. Stickman—" He turned around, but his boss had wandered away to the middle of the garden. Unlike the others, who were formally dressed, Stan was wearing shorts and a sweatshirt. He had a balding head and rather prominent belly, along with a face that rather unfortunately looked like a boiled frog's. Still, Rachel supposed, it wasn't his face but his brain that mattered and he clearly had a brilliant one hidden underneath that shining dome of his. Calvin Donaldson, who was still standing next to Jay and Wilbur, smiled and reached out to shake hands with Stan.
That was when Stan reared back and punched Calvin full in the face.
Brandon gave a little gasp of horror, and Emily let out a scream. Scott immediately sprang to action, taking less than a second to come in between the two men. Even in that second, Calvin Donaldson had leaped upon Stan, and tackled him in a headlock.
Bewildered, Rachel watched dumbfounded and wondered if the entire world had gone mad.
*****
Chapter 5
Galaxy Cake
She didn't have too much time to think about the party. Scott had gone into sheriff mode as soon as Stan Stickman punched the ex-senator. He'd taken the two men outside and vanished for some time. By the time he came back, the party was basically over. Brandon and Wilbur had both disappeared too, and Emily had phoned Tricia to tell her not to come. Rachel had found herself heading home with a few Tupperware containers full of Emily's food.
Rachel woke before sunrise the next day and began preparing to apply the finishing touches to the galaxy cake. She'd never sold one of these before, and her practice cakes hadn't quite turned out the way she wanted. That, and last night's dinner party fiasco made her feel jittery as she approached her work space.
Once she started assembling the final cake, however, she felt at peace. The day before, she'd made two vanilla cakes, stacked them one on top of the other, and added a buttercream frosting which she had painstakingly leveled off with a flat spatula. She took the cake out of the fridge now, and felt a little proud at how smoothly it had all come out. Placing it on a rotating plate, she cracked her knuckles as she readied for the most important step—pouring on the glaze. Yesterday, she had already created the glaze by mixing in sugar, white chocolate and glycerin along with various food colors. She had five bowls in front of her now, with black, navy blue, electric blue, pink, and purple-colored glaze.
The glaze had to be a perf
ect ninety degrees—exactly. The consistency, was important—too thin and it would run off, too thick and it would clump. For the base, she'd gently swirled the navy blue glaze with the black to give an "outer space" effect. With a deep breath, she poured it gently over the cake, allowing it to drip off the sides. A broad smile spread across her face. She'd done it! It coated the cake perfectly. Next, she added in gentle splashes of the other colors, and then very gently, using a spatula, blurred them together. She was about to apply her final touch, when there was a knock on the kitchen door.
She looked up at the clock, and saw that it was six thirty a.m. already. She had to make the delivery soon. Whoever it was, they'd have to go away.
"Emily?" She opened the door to her friend.
"Hey, Rach. Sorry to disturb you this early." Emily sighed.
"No problem at all. Although . . .I can't talk. I'm about to finish up on the cake and deliver it to Tricia. She wanted it early because Stan Stickman's planning to do a proper run-through of the book release."
"Yeah, I've taken a day off today to see it. I was so excited about this yesterday, and today I just feel . . . well, terrible. Jay's pretty upset about what happened last night too."
"Stan's Jay's client, right?"
"Yep. Calvin Donaldson is too. So Jay's in a tough spot as you can imagine. Calvin is seriously peeved with Stan."
"Well, why did Stan hit him? He must have had some reason."
As she spoke, Rachel gestured for Emily to sit at the counter while she applied the finishing touches. She sprayed edible glitter on the cake, and smiled at the effect. The swirling colors and glittering stars really did make the cake look like a galaxy in itself. Emily whistled.
Guilt & Galaxy Cake Page 2