Most Wonderful

by Bryce Oakley

  She had lived and breathed the bookshop for years, and it was what she knew best. She wasn't just going to give up on her dream. And hosting live events was the next step.

  The Johanna Kissler event was a giant step — a leap, even — towards real success.

  "You are a badass," Emilia said to her reflection. "You're going to kill it tonight because you are smart and capable and—"

  "Hell yeah, now these are the self-care affirmations a workin' girl needs," Frankie burst out from behind her.

  Emilia jumped, her body tensing suddenly, and turned to see Frankie and Nico. "You and that dog need to learn how to knock."

  "It's my office, too," Frankie sing-songed.

  Nico looked Emilia up and down, and signaled for Emilia to give a little twirl. "You look mah-vah-luss, dah-ling. But trade Frankie shoes. I don't like the black ones you've got on with the green of your dress."

  Emilia looked down at Frankie's sparkly gold heels.

  "No," Emilia said flatly.

  Frankie sighed, leaning on the desk to take off her shoes. "It’s a good thing I love you both," she said, looking from Emilia to Nico. "These were already killing my feet anyway." She held out the shoes.

  Emilia smirked, taking the heels from her. "I'm only doing this because it's faster to give in than to argue with you and I'm running out of time as it is."

  Nico laughed. "That's the spirit!”

  Frankie put Emilia’s heels on her own feet. "These are way better. My work here is done," she said, throwing an invisible shawl around her neck and walked out of the office.

  Nico stayed behind, putting a hand on Emilia’s arm. "Everything's going to go fine. You're the smartest, most capable person I've ever met and this event will be a roaring success."

  Emilia turned and hugged Nico, grateful for her Old Soul Wisdom.

  “We better get out there,” Nico said, squeezing Emilia’s hand.

  Emilia checked her watch. 5:30 pm. Perfect timing.

  She walked out of the office to find the vendors. The hors-d'oeuvres were on time, as was the bartender. Frankie was helping her set up, playfully touching her arm.

  Emilia smiled, then shook her head. Last week she’d have scolded Frankie for acting unprofessionally, and now she was smiling about seeing her flirt with someone on the clock? She really was losing her grip.

  She stood near the table where the cupcakes would go, looking around. No sign of Le Petite Bakerie with the cupcakes Johanna Kissler had specifically requested. She tapped her toe, glancing at her watch to check the time. 5:32 pm.

  She sighed, looking through her recent call list, and then hit the phone button beside the shop’s name.

  No answer. Maybe they were just running a bit late?

  But twenty minutes later, the cupcakes were not present, and Le Petite Bakerie was still not picking up their phone.

  A text dinged in from Johanna’s assistant. There was a backup on the interstate, and Johanna was running about 45 minutes late.

  Emilia mentally calculated. Okay, so that gave still gave the author 15 minutes to get ready for the event. She gulped, her mouth suddenly dry. She could make that work.

  It'd be tight and stressful, but she'd be here in time for Emilia to shove her on stage, at least.

  Anxiety began to well up in her stomach, that all-too-familiar tight feeling pinching at her, and then slowly making its way up her arms.

  It was the beginnings of a panic attack. Not here, she silently scolded herself. She shook out her hands and took a few deep breaths.

  Nico appeared beside her again, apparently about to ask her a question, but paused, mouth open. "Em, are you okay?"

  "What's up?" Emilia asked, her voice as wobbly and fragile as a very full glass of water about to overflow. She cleared her throat, squeezing and unsqueezing her fists.

  "We can't fit all of the chairs in like we had mapped out. Frankie's doing her best to figure it out, though, but she wanted to warn you,” Nico said.

  Emilia grimaced, and suddenly the room was tilting, and her skin was on fire, and she couldn't take a deep enough breath. She had to get out.

  She exited out the front door of the shop onto the sidewalk for some air and to cool off. What she really wanted was to curl into a ball right there, but she wouldn’t.

  She had to get herself together.

  The entire event depended on Emilia's ability to put out fires. She was the one who handled problems. Frankie could talk anyone into anything, but she was also way too empathetic when it came to delivering tough news.

  Nico didn't have the authority to make any decisions outside of what she did every day, so they wouldn't be able to step in.

  Emilia had to put on her big girl pants and figure it out. She could fall apart after if she still wanted to, but not yet.

  The sidewalk was fairly busy with people either leaving their offices or showing up for an early drink and dinner downtown. She could see her breath, but the adrenaline in her veins kept her from feeling the cold.

  She moved out of a woman's way and found herself in front of the bakery. The light was still on, but the Open sign was off.

  An idea chimed in her head, and she banged on the glass door.

  Henry appeared in the store, wiping his hands on an apron. He looked irritated, but then his expression changed when his eyes landed on Emilia. He hurried to the door and unlocked it, and she pushed in even before the door was fully open.

  "Emilia, are you—"

  She shook her head, stopping him. "No, I'm not. Do you have the phone number of the owner of Le Petite Bakerie?"

  Cody popped out from the back room, and she had to focus a bit harder on keeping her eyes on Henry so she wouldn’t be distracted.

  Cody’s hair was messy and she was wearing a form fitting white t-shirt.

  Emilia balled her hands into fists and stared at Henry instead.

  "You think there's just like a baking phone tree?" Cody laughed, raising her eyebrows.

  Emilia paused, then nodded quickly. It made sense. She knew most other indie bookshop owners in the city and were even friends with a few.

  "As a matter of fact, I do have Jen's number. Let me go get it from the office," Henry said, walking behind the register into the backroom.

  "What's going on? You know, in case there's an important baking emergency and we need to call like twenty people on this phone tree," Cody joked, wiping her hands on a towel hooked onto her apron.

  Emilia took a deep breath, trying not to notice the way the muscles moved over her perfect jaw line as she spoke. "Johanna Kissler wanted these cupcakes. They're supposedly the absolute best cupcakes in Denver—"

  Cody snorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Emilia sighed impatiently. "No offense. She's wrong, of course. But I need this baker lady's number."

  Cody shrugged and held out her phone. "Here, since you’re in a hurry," she said. She had a woman’s contact info pulled up — Jen from La Petite Bakerie. Her name was set as "Jen" with a smiley face emoji. Jen Smiley Face.

  Emilia instantly disliked her.

  She dialed the number, and, as soon as Jen picked up the phone, launched into an explanation of who she was and what she needed.

  ”I have no idea how you got my personal number or Cody’s phone for that matter, but I have no record of such an order," Jen said on the other end.

  The Jen lady did not sound pleasant enough to deserve a smiling emoji, that was for sure.

  Henry returned, holding a piece of paper, but Cody waved him off.

  "Well, I do have a record of this order on September 17th, which was over two weeks ago — it was for the Johanna Kissler book signing, if you remember — and my card ending in 2988 was charged for the amount of $614.63, so I will be calling you to resolve this first thing on Monday morning. But have a great weekend."

  "Wait, did you say Johanna Kiss—" Jen started, but Emilia was already hanging up and handing the phone back to Cody, who was looking at her with the same
hesitation one gives a ticking bomb that could explode at any moment.

  Emilia could feel her hands shaking as her panic threatened to consume her entirely.

  So much hitched on the event. The event going well meant they could expand the shop, could invite more authors to come and read, could support more writers. Johanna Kissler had given her one specific request: Those cupcakes. She had the sudden urge to scream into a pillow, a coping technique she had loved as a child. And still loved.

  "Well, how fast can we bake seventy-five cupcakes, guys?" Emilia joked bitterly, holding her hands over her cheeks.

  Cody and Henry exchanged a strange look. It was as though they were having an entirely silent conversation with head nods and eyebrow movements.

  Cody observed her for a moment, and then reached out and held her hand on Emilia’s shoulder.

  She didn't know what it was about Cody’s touch, but instantly she felt calmer. It was as if the stormy waters inside of her had begun to settle. No one had ever made her feel that way before, especially with something as simple as a touch.

  Emilia looked up at Cody, pulling her brows together in confusion, and Cody’s eyes were warm and comforting. She squeezed Emilia’s shoulder.

  "Seventy-five, you say?" Cody said, and Emilia nodded.

  She watched Henry chuckle. "Well, Emilia, this is your lucky day."

  Henry motioned for her to follow, and Cody took her hand and led her behind the counter, then through the door to the kitchen.

  Emilia obeyed, feeling suddenly curious, albeit impatient. She looked down at her hand in Cody’s and her stomach twirled at the sight. She smiled, then looked up to Cody, but she was startled to see that the entire kitchen was filled with baking racks of hundreds of cupcakes.

  "These are for a Christmas party tomorrow. We were staying late to finish them. But seventy-five are yours if you want them," Henry said, gesturing to the racks of hundreds of cupcakes. The decorations were white and silver, which would accent well with the rich wood of Between the Covers.

  "Why do you have so many?" Emilia asked, stepping around the racks to see dozens upon dozens upon dozens of cupcakes.

  Cody shrugged. "I suggested we make a few extra in case something happens, because something always happens." She paused, glancing to Henry. "And then we donate whatever the client doesn't want to the food bank."

  "That's a terrible business model," Emilia whispered before she could help herself, staring at the perfectly frosted cupcakes in front of her.

  Cody laughed suddenly, looking shocked at her reprimand.

  Henry shrugged.

  Emilia was touched. It was hands-down the kindest thing anyone had ever done for her. They were so readily willing to give her over six dozen cupcakes just because they had them?

  "How much do I owe you?" Emilia asked, turning to Henry, patting her sides, looking for her purse.

  Henry rolled his eyes, swatting the invisible idea out of the air. "Sounds like you're out some money from the Jen fiasco. We'll discuss after you figure that—"

  Emotion swelled inside of her. She threw her arms around Henry's neck, and though she wasn't a crier, tears began to well in her eyes. He returned the hug tightly.

  "Emilia, you've helped me with the business so many times, like how you showed me how to use that accounting software. I’m honored to be of service, finally." Henry's kind eyes wrinkled at the edges as he patted Emilia’s shoulders.

  "I'm going to find some stands for you to display these,” Henry said, releasing Emilia as he walked into the back-storage room.

  Emilia turned to Cody as Henry walked out of the room, leaving the two of them alone again.

  "I mean, it's not that big of a deal. They're only the most wonderful cupcakes you've ever tasted, that's all. The silver ones are peppermint and mocha, and the white ones are cardamom, caramel, and vanilla," Cody said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

  "Thank you. They're… they're perfect," Emilia said. Tears were sliding down her cheeks, but for the first time in perhaps her entire life, she wasn't so embarrassed to show a slight crack in her hard exterior.

  Cody wrapped an arm loosely around Emilia’s shoulders.

  Emilia went still as Cody leaned down and touched her cheek. "Don't do that. You have to go be a boss over there."

  Emilia laughed, sniffling. "Alright, I'm going to go delegate someone to help you bring these over." She smiled, patting her cheeks and dabbing at her eyes. "Do I have mascara like, everywhere?"

  Cody brushed a thumb across Emilia’s cheeks, shaking her head. ”You look perfect."

  Emilia let out an unsteady laugh and wiped at her eyes.

  Taking a deep breath, Emilia stepped away from Cody and smoothed down the front of her dress. "Okay, I'm ready."

  Chapter 6

  Cody

  The room erupted in applause. From what Cody could tell, the event, reading, and finally, the Q&A had all been a success. Nico and another employee Cody hadn’t met yet had shown up a few moments after Emilia had left, and together with Henry, they had brought over the 75 cupcakes as requested.

  Nico had explained that the author was late and that the chairs wouldn't fit, so Cody could understand why Emilia was completely panicking over something as silly as cupcakes.

  Henry had left immediately to return to the last-minute preparations of the cupcakes for the Christmas party but had insisted Cody stay.

  If she hadn't known any better, she’d have sworn Henry had given her a wink when suggesting it. She had waited and watched as Emilia introduced Johanna Kissler, providing a brief but lighthearted speech about the author's merits and writing.

  Emilia looked so comfortable and confident on stage, and maybe it was the lighting or the fact that she had on a dress that looked as though it was made exactly for her, but Cody was nearly overwhelmed by how gorgeous the woman looked.

  There was just something about seeing Emilia so perfectly in her element. Sure, she had been beautiful the first time Cody had seen her and everything from sexy to stunning since, but that night, she was shining and passionate, Emilia was absolute perfection.

  Cody couldn't keep herself from looking for her now that everyone had stood up and was mingling around.

  To an outsider, the event looked effortless. Johanna Kissler had drawn a pretty fervid crowd of middle-aged women clutching books to their chests, desperate for a signed copy, who were keeping a cashier quite busy at the cash register.

  Cody didn’t understand the appeal of Johanna Kissler and her particular brand of Find Yourself with just a touch of holiday spirit, but if what she said helped others, then more power to her.

  Now that the event was over, Cody felt a bit self-conscious. She didn't know what to do with herself, but she didn't want to leave without speaking to Emilia one last time.

  She was grateful when Frankie appeared at her side, a cupcake in hand — though, She noticed, most of the cupcake was already in her mouth. She was pointing to the cupcake, then giving Cody a thumbs-up and nodding.

  "I'll take that as a compliment," Cody laughed.

  "Best part of the evening by far," Frankie said after taking a moment to chew and swallow her bite. She looked around, then wandered off for a moment before returning with two glasses of red wine. She handed one to Cody, which she took with a small bow of her head.

  "She won't be free for a while," Frankie said.

  Cody stiffened and didn't respond, but looked sideways at her.

  "Yeah, you're that obvious," Frankie added.

  Cody laughed again. "Maybe if you put on some super loud music, everyone will leave."

  "Hey, now you're talking," Frankie raised her brows as though considering it. "But due to my impeccable taste in music, they'd probably just stay even longer."

  "That is a risk, certainly," Cody agreed, smiling.

  Frankie gulped down the rest of her glass. "You're welcome in advance, ol' sport," she stated flatly, handing Cody her empty glass.

  Before she
could question what she should be thankful for this time, Frankie disappeared into the crowd. The Marin women were a breed all their own.

  Frankie returned moments later with the author on her arm, deep in conversation and pointing to the cupcakes.

  Cody stepped away, trying to be inconspicuous as she listened.

  "We know you wanted those Petite Bakerie cupcakes, but we also wanted to show you what a gem Henry's Bakeshop just next door is. Do you know how many magazines have featured these cupcakes?" Frankie proceeded to talk up the cupcakes, even going so far as to pick one up and unwrap it to point out the layers of caramel. She was a born salesperson.

  A hand found Cody’s arm and squeezed, and she was surprised to find that Emilia had slipped beside her when she hadn't been looking.

  Wow, so they were on a secret hand squeeze level now?

  "God, I just love Frankie. She knew I was worried, so now she's taken it upon herself to convince Johanna that your cupcakes are better,” Emilia whispered.

  "Easy. They are." Cody smiled, watching the author try a bite of the cupcake and erupt in enthusiastic moans.

  Frankie looked at Cody and Emilia with wide eyes and what she could only interpret as a "Do you hear these sex noises?!" look.

  Emilia began to giggle and turned her body towards Cody’s to avoid Johanna seeing her.

  Cody tried to inconspicuously to cover her smile.

  Emilia squeezed Cody’s arm again and looked up at her. "I have to do the book signing part, but… do you want to hang around, maybe?"

  As if that was even a question.

  Cody nodded, and Emilia let go of her arm, then moved to ask Johanna a question before announcing the book signing to the room. The room began to clear as people queued into a line or left, and Cody took it as a cue to make herself scarce.

  She moved into the stacks of books, running her hand over the spines as she slowly walked down each row. It had been ages since she had spent much time in a bookshop, but the smell was as comforting as ever. She grabbed a book with an interesting title, leaning against the stacks and cracking it open to read the first page.

  Thirty pages later, she was sitting on the floor, so absorbed in the story that she didn't see Emilia walking up to her. She noticed the shoes in front of her first, then slowly and unashamedly slid her eyes up, over the curve of her hips, up to the swell of her breasts, her full, red lips, and her warm, bright eyes.