Sweethand

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Sweethand Page 10

by N. G. Peltier


  “Are you sure?”

  Her smile was less deadly when she nodded. “It was a near-death experience for you just then, but yup. All good now.” She swept the counter with her hand. “Welcome to where all the magic happens. Since you’re a newbie assistant, I printed out the menu in order of what we’ll be tackling first. Waffle bar is last. All cakes will be done first because it’ll take longer. Well...after the eggs. I’m doing marshmallow Easter eggs, and I already made them and let them set overnight because of timing, so all you’ll have to do is cover in chocolate.”

  “Waffle bar?” He didn’t have a clue what that was, but he supposed he’d learn soon enough. “And you made marshmallows yourself?”

  “Well, yeah. I wanted the egg shape, so homemade was the way to go. Anyway, let’s melt the chocolate so we can get these out of the way.”

  Keiran had never heard of anyone actually making marshmallows from scratch. He knew about buying them from the store, so he stared at Cherisse as she instructed him on melting the chocolate, then how to cover the eggs. The tiny, from-scratch, egg-shaped marshmallows. He couldn’t get over that as he did as she instructed and dipped an egg into the chocolate. How did you even make marshmallows?

  “Keiran, focus!” Cherisse snapped. “Your egg is dripping.”

  Sure enough, he’d forgotten to let the excess chocolate drip into the bowl before moving it to the parchment-lined baking sheet.

  “Shit, sorry, I’ll clean up.”

  “Nope, just keep going. I’ll get it.”

  Cherisse was a drill sergeant in her kitchen. As soon as they completed one thing from the list, she checked it off and had already ensured the next item was prepped and ready to go. Keiran’s eyes went round at the photo of the cake they were about to attempt, a multi-colored four-layer mini cake, with some sort of cream in the middle of each layer, and on top, a bunny nose and ears.

  “How many of these are we making?”

  Cherisse’s grin was a little evil. “Enough for about one hundred people or so.”

  Keiran groaned. His energy was already lagging. Working in the studio until late meant he’d gotten two hours’ sleep before making it over here. Which Cherisse wouldn’t care to hear. It was his own damn fault for underestimating this entire process. Despite her grumpy moment before her coffee, Cherisse had gotten increasingly animated as she’d explained everything and instructed him on what they were doing. Her love for baking was clear, and he truly hadn’t anticipated the work that went into this.

  “Not quite the popping frozen items in an oven for a few minutes you anticipated, huh?” she said, casually throwing his ill-advised words to that blogger back at him.

  “Yeah, I—”

  She waved away his words. “It’s squashed. I just couldn’t resist. Now, batter time.”

  By the time the different colored layers of cake were in the oven, Keiran was somehow covered in flour while Cherisse looked fresh as ever. They were both wearing aprons, but Keiran was so clearly out of his depth here that it hadn’t mattered.

  “Uh, you have a little flour there.” She reached out to wipe at his cheek, and Keiran froze. Cherisse snatched her hand back. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that without your permission.”

  “It’s fine.” A lie, because that tiny touch had felt like fire trailing across his skin. He was too tired to shield himself against Cherisse this early in the morning. His defenses were down.

  They’d called a truce, but Cherisse willingly touching him like that was an anomaly. Perhaps her defenses were down too. He didn’t know what had prompted that move, but the awkwardness was growing, so he pointedly asked, “Frosting’s next?”

  That propelled Cherisse into motion. “Yes! Right, frosting, yup.”

  They maneuvered around each other for the next few hours, the moment’s discomfort forgotten as sunlight gradually shone into the kitchen. At one point, a sleepy Remi shuffled in long enough to swipe a chocolate-covered egg, ignoring Cherisse’s protests. Jello appeared in the doorway too but didn’t enter, as if the cat knew better than to even try his luck here.

  “Hey! You didn’t want to help. You get no treats.”

  Remi ignored Cherisse and kept chewing on her marshmallow. “Too late to stop me now. Besides, you two seem to be doing just fine. Reba may want to watch her back,” she joked.

  Keiran scoffed. “Her job is safe, don’t worry.”

  Remi suddenly raised her phone and snapped a photo of Keiran and Cherisse. “I think I’ll caption this one: Sugar Queen puts Mixer King to work. Sweet victory.” She chuckled as Keiran pretended to be offended, but he couldn’t care less. Besides, Remi’s post could help with squashing the feuding rumors.

  “I hope you got my good side,” he said as he added some vanilla to the buttercream frosting under Cherisse’s watchful eye.

  She was close enough to him that he clearly heard her mutter, “Every damn side is your good side, fucking annoying.”

  He snorted but pretended he hadn’t heard a thing.

  HE HADN’T KNOWN WHAT to expect, having never attended any sort of brunch, no matter how many times Eric and Scott expounded on the joy of brunching. He took in the sprawling back yard as he followed Cherisse over to the dessert and waffle bar area. He’d soon discovered the waffle bar was a setup with mini waffles with various toppings and syrups to choose from. Cherisse hadn’t been kidding about the variety of toppings. There was homemade whipped cream, various types of nuts, fruit, sprinkles, chocolate chips, M&Ms, and more.

  The food and drinks area was set up under a covered portion of the yard. Guests could swing by the buffet-style spread, grab their drinks and eats, and make their way out to the lawn where round tables had been set up with extravagant centerpieces that were garlands with bright flowers and a selection of fruit woven in. It was legit fancy, and Keiran couldn’t stop himself from gaping at everything, covertly poking at the fruit to see if they were real or plastic.

  “Holy shit.” His finger squished into the very real grapefruit, and he hastily drew it away, peering around to see if anyone had noticed that. The caterers were busy bustling around. The host was nowhere in sight, either.

  His shower had revived him somewhat, but he’d been schooled. He could admit that. This had been an experience. Especially after the cakes had emerged from her giant oven, and they’d put together the layers for the finished cake, complete with the marshmallow bunny ears.

  As they set up, an older woman who could’ve been in her forties or fifties sauntered out, with a glittery top hat on, a silver bow and giant bunny ears stuck to the front. Her toned golden-brown arms glowed against her sleeveless white pants suit.

  Keiran’s eyes widened at the hat, and the woman laughed.

  “Cherisse, why’s this boy looking at me like he don’t know about the hats and other assorted headwear?”

  “Uh...” Cherisse flushed, clasping her hands behind her back and rocking slightly on her heels. “I may have forgotten to mention it?”

  The woman clucked her tongue and smiled at Keiran. “At my Easter parties, all are required to pick the gear of their choice and wear it throughout the day. Makes for some fun photos. We’ve got hats, bunny ears headbands. Think I even saw some nest and eggs contraption this year, I don’t know. I swear Mira looks for the weirdest of the weird.” She winked at them, sticking out her hand. “I’m Laney Johnson-Reyes, and you are?”

  “Nice to meet you, Ms. Johnson-Reyes. I’m Keiran, Cherisse’s assistant for the day.”

  “Huh, interesting.” Laney’s gaze moved between them, speculative. “How nice of you to help out, but I thought Cherisse already had an assistant? And by the way, it’s Mrs. Johnson-Reyes. My wife’s around here somewhere.”

  She was still smiling, but her gaze was challenging. Keiran had no doubt she’d dropped the bit about her wife as some sort of test. He could imagine the reactions she’d gotten before. She didn’t have to worry about any of that from him, but of course, she couldn’t know that.


  “Can’t wait to meet her, and I’m in no way replacing Reba. She couldn’t make it, so I’m the poor sub Cherisse had to make do with.”

  Laney threw Cherisse a dazzling smile. “Oh, I like him. Well, let me find Mira. She’s probably off cuddling the dog somewhere to build up strength before the hordes descend. She’s not the social butterfly I am.”

  Keiran watched Laney retreat, then returned his gaze to Cherisse, who’d gone back to fiddling with a dessert box, gently extracting the mini cakes within and situating them on the dessert stand. “Laney seems nice.”

  “She is. It’s the others that are a bit much.” Cherisse brushed a wayward curl from her face.

  Keiran shrugged. He hadn’t been kidding about charming older ladies. It was a well-honed skill from interacting with his mother’s friends on numerous occasions. He figured he’d do alright here.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said confidently. Cherisse’s grin said she thought otherwise.

  By the time the guests arrived, he’d been eye-fucked by a trio of ladies, who seemed in their fifties. Their gazes had taken him in from head to toe, and in spite of the discomfort of being mentally undressed by the three women, Keiran graced them with a smile. As he stared down at the food spread, he was certain he felt their eyes on his ass. But he ignored that, piling his plate high with waffles and other yummy things. He’d given in and tasted one of everything back at her apartment. Cherisse had looked on smugly as he’d fought back groans of delight at the taste.

  Why had he been petty about her desserts for so long? They were amazing!

  Cherisse came over to the bar to fill her plate as well. “Hey, lemme ask you something. When you came to my apartment for the meeting, did you have tuna on you, by chance?”

  “Uh, what?”

  “Jello was all over you, so, just wondered.”

  Keiran didn’t hold back his snort. “Really? You’re really annoyed that your cat liked me so much, huh? Why would I be rollin’ with random tuna in the first place? I didn’t even know you had a cat.”

  Cherisse went down the line, placing toppings onto her waffles. “I don’t know what you’re into.”

  “Oh, my God.” This was too much and so much fodder for teasing. She was legit not pleased about her cat being all over him. “I told you, animals just love me.”

  “Right, like the damn cat whisperer or something. Whatever.” She picked up her plate, lips spreading into a wicked smile. “Older ladies whisperer too, as I recall. I gotta go see Laney about a thing.”

  “Wait, what’re you—?”

  She waved over her shoulder, and Keiran was suddenly on alert. That smile didn’t bode well for him at all. Truce or not, Cherisse was up to something.

  It wasn’t long before his “Older ladies love me” comment was biting him in the ass, and he was eating his words, along with some chocolate syrup-drenched waffles, which made it a little easier to swallow. Although, he hadn’t expected an audience for that.

  He looked around for Cherisse, but he’d been abandoned, left at the mercy of the three women who’d undressed him with their eyes earlier. They’d ushered him to their table that was now littered with glasses of mimosa, half-eaten foods, and fruit from the centerpieces. He’d been trying to excuse himself for the last twenty minutes. His charm had backfired—had, in fact, worked too well, it seemed, judging from the lazy hand that suddenly found itself on his arm.

  “A healthy appetite and toned arms. Everything a woman could ask for.” The woman currently petting the bare skin where his short sleeve ended wore a wide-brimmed hat with little bunnies and Peeps on the brim. Blonde hair brushed her pale, freckled shoulders as she leaned forward. “That syrup looks so good. Chocolate’s my fave.”

  Oh, Jesus. Just what Keiran needed, a white woman with a taste for chocolate. He scanned the other tables, the food stations, and the rest of the back yard. Where the hell was Cherisse? Or their host, for that matter?

  “Becky, leave the boy alone,” the woman on his right admonished. She shook her head, bunny ears headband bouncing in her fro as she peered at Becky from behind her cat-eye glasses. “Quit trying to be all jungle fever up in here. I told you that shit’s not cute.”

  “What?” Blue eyes wide, Becky removed her hand from Keiran’s arm. “I was only talking about the syrup, Celeste. That’s all.”

  “Sure, Becky.” Celeste sipped her sangria, eyes brimming with censure. “If you think you’ve got anything he’s interested in. Girl, please. You see he came here with Nyla’s daughter, Cherisse? He may like ‘em a little light-skinned, but not your brand of pale, sweetie.”

  Becky glared at her friend. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about!”

  Celeste raised a brow. “You’re not as slick as you think.”

  While the two bickered, the other friend, a tall, slim woman with short, tight curls and deep brown skin, watched on with glee. This seemed to be a routine of sorts. Keiran wondered if he could slip away as the two women went back and forth. He didn’t want to be collateral damage if stuff started getting thrown around.

  “So, how’s it going?”

  He latched onto the voice like his last lifeline. At this point, he didn’t care if he was being rude. He didn’t know these women—would probably never seen them again, if he was lucky. He sprang to his feet, hooked his arm with Cherisse’s, tossed back an “Excuse me,” and towed her away. By the time they’d left the table behind, she was gasping for breath, she was laughing so hard.

  “You ditched me!”

  Hand pressed to her mouth, a loud snort escaped. “You said you’d be fine. My God, your face. Priceless. Just...” She snickered loudly. “Fucking priceless. I wished I’d captured it. This was a great idea. You distracted them so much they didn’t even badger me about my love life or give me life advice or anything. They basically forgot I was here. Thank you. I should bring you to things like this more often.”

  “There will never be another opportunity like this,” he vowed.

  “Never say never. I mean, if you’re looking for a sugar mama at any time, Becky’ll be happy to oblige.” Cherisse winked.

  “I’m good, thanks.” He narrowed his eyes. “Were you really that pissed about Jello? That’s the height of pettiness. Leaving me at their mercy.” He tried to muster a scowl, but it was pointless. Cherisse’s laugh was too contagious, and the bright yellow bunnies angling forward and back from the springs that were attached to her headband made it even more difficult to maintain a frown. She’d chosen the headwear to match her sunny yellow dress.

  God, she’s adorable. It was like a punch to the gut. Her smile, her everything.

  “This has nothing to do with Jello.” She didn’t bother to keep a straight face. She pressed her lips together, but it was useless. “What?” Her laughter died off as she swiped her hand beneath her eyes. She’d been laughing to the point of tears. “You’re looking at me funny. Do I have something on my face?”

  Yeah, your smile. It takes my goddamn breath away, was what he wanted to say. But of course, he didn’t. They were being cordial, even teasing each other in non-vicious ways, but a truce could only withstand so much.

  “No, but you do have something funny on your head.” He went with the safer option. When in doubt, joke it out.

  She looked pointedly at his head. “Ahem.”

  She had him there. Laney had chosen one of the more ridiculous hats out of the box, claiming that as it was his first time at one of her events, it was the host’s choice. He currently rocked a giant top hat with glittery eggs, a bird’s nest, yellow baby chicks sporting bow ties and glasses, and tiny bunnies on the brim.

  He shrugged. “Whatever, I make this look good.” He’d posted a silly selfie to Instagram. Might as well get something out of the ridiculous thing.

  “Becky definitely seems to think so,” Cherisse quipped, giggles starting up again.

  “You did that on purpose.”

  “You can’t prove it either way. I thought y
ou were the older ladies whisperer? I’m sure whispering in her ear would’ve been quite...effective.”

  Oh, she was truly devious, just as he’d always known, and Keiran wasn’t even annoyed about it.

  Before he could formulate a reply, Laney’s voice rang out. “Attention, all. I hope you’ve filled your bellies and loosened those inhibitions because now,” she paused dramatically, “we have the games.”

  “Games?” He was realizing that simple didn’t apply here. Was this another thing Cherisse had failed to mention?

  “Uh, those didn’t exist last year.”

  They both looked across to where Laney was waving them over, then glanced at each other, hesitating to leave the safe zone that was this orange tree they’d found themselves under.

  Keiran took the plunge and offered his arm. “M’lady, shall we?”

  Cherisse hesitated for a beat before sighing, then taking his arm. Keiran ignored the feel of her skin against his and marched them towards the games zone.

  CHERISSE

  The game turned out to be a scavenger hunt. Each team of three—Cherisse, Keiran, and Becky had been teamed up, much to Keiran’s dismay and Cherisse’s delight—was given plastic eggs with clues inside. Once the whistle sounded, they had to open their eggs and dash off, using the clues to find the golden eggs. The team with the most won the whole thing.

  This bunch took the game seriously, grown people dashing off, bumping into their competition as they took off to solve their clues and find the eggs. Their scrambling to get the most eggs was successful. They won the prize, which was hotly contested by several super-competitive people who felt their team had an advantage of some kind because Laney had blatantly been rooting out loud for them. Cries of cheating went ignored as Laney silenced the dissenters with a sweep of her hand.

  “Brunch is brutal,” Keiran whispered in Cherisse’s ear as one extremely vocal guest stormed off.

 

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