Emma: Lights! Camera! Cupcakes!

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Emma: Lights! Camera! Cupcakes! Page 2

by Coco Simon


  Sure enough, Romaine arrived with her mom, her sister, and three bridesmaids, one of whom was the famous singer and piano player (and fashion model), Samantha Holmes, right before the store opened! I was peeking out from a dressing room, and I saw them all walk in. I wasn’t sure if they’d need me in there or just as a runner (that’s someone who runs and gets things, like a different size or more pins), so I stayed put until further instructions. But soon I heard Mona calling me, and I left my little cocoon and walked slowly to the largest of the private dressing rooms Mona uses for brides. I had butterflies in my stomach, and now I wasn’t so confident Romaine would remember me. I mean, she must meet thousands of people a year!

  I opened the door and ducked inside, already blushing. And then I heard, “Emma!”

  “There she is!”

  “Hey, Emma!”

  And Romaine crossed the room to give me a big hug. I couldn’t believe it!

  “I—I wasn’t sure you’d remember me. Th-thanks!” I stammered awkwardly.

  “Remember you? How could we forget? Between the wonderful cupcakes for my shower and your great job at the camp talent show and all your cute friends!” Romaine was beaming at me and suddenly I felt like I was the star and she was the fan. It was amazing! I laughed.

  “Oh, you look just as pretty as ever, dear!” said Mrs. Ford from across the room. Mona had given me a bridesmaid’s dress to wear. I usually wore different dresses when I was at the store, so the brides could see how they looked on an actual person. The one I was wearing today had a really pretty pink satin bow.

  “Thanks,” I said, playing with the bow. Then I stopped. Mona always told me not to fuss with the dresses—especially when I’m wearing them.

  Mona was smiling proudly at me, and I smiled back. Then she said, “Now, we have lots of Emma’s cupcakes for this morning, so, Emma, why don’t you run and get us some of those, please, and then we’ll see if we need you to stand in again as a fit model for Romaine’s niece. Meanwhile, Patricia and I will go get the dresses, and the bridal party can try them on.”

  I scurried out to get the cupcakes, and when I returned I passed them out on small linen napkins, the way Mona had shown me. Everyone took one, and it was pretty quiet for a minute as they all savored the treats.

  “Oh! These are so delicious!” said Samantha, nibbling on a vanilla cupcake. “I could eat a hundred of them, but then my dress won’t fit!” She laughed.

  I smiled at her, glad to have a chance to make eye contact. I was so used to seeing her on YouTube music videos, playing the piano and singing: her long arms toned in a sleeveless gown, gracefully outstretched while she sang and played the piano without even looking down at the keys. She even played at this past year’s Super Bowl halftime show, watched by a billion people! It was too weird to see her here, sitting in front of me in jeans and a T-shirt.

  “They could let it out for you,” said Romaine’s sister Florence with a wink.

  “My manager would kill me!” said Samantha.

  “Oh, these managers are so ruthless! Mine tells me every pound shaves a hundred thousand dollars off my paycheck,” Romaine said, groaning.

  A hundred thousand dollars!

  “Girls,” scolded Mrs. Ford.

  “Sorry,” said Romaine. “Tacky to talk about money in public!”

  Mrs. Ford nodded approvingly, and Romaine rolled her eyes like a teenager. “Mom’s the boss,” she said with a shrug.

  “Sorry, Mrs. F.,” said Samantha.

  “You girls are talented enough to not have to talk like that,” said Mrs. Ford with a sniff.

  Wow, I thought. Mrs. Ford had power. Imagine scolding a three-time Grammy Award winner, and an Oscar winner, at the same time! Then I thought about it. After all, Mrs. Ford was still just Romaine’s mom, even if Romaine was a big star. My mom would probably still correct me if I had bad manners about something too, even if I was a movie star.

  “Let’s have another, then!” Samantha giggled, and I circled back to her with the platter.

  She popped a cinnamon one into her mouth this time. “Mmmm! That one is just as delicious as the other! Romaine, maybe you should have a cinnamon-flavored wedding cake! That would solve all your troubles!”

  I looked at Romaine and saw her sigh.

  “I love Liam so much, but the one thing we can’t agree on is a wedding cake. He thinks that big fancy white wedding cakes are old-fashioned, and I kind of agree, but I’m not going to reinvent the wheel, you know?”

  I passed the platter to Romaine, and she selected another vanilla cupcake.

  “Oh, Emma, these really are the best. Too bad you don’t make wedding cakes!”

  “Hey!” said Romaine’s sister, who looks a lot like her. “I saw on that TV show Cupcake Connections that they did a cupcake tower for a wedding. It was really pretty!”

  I wanted to say the Cupcake Club had actually done a cupcake tower for Mia’s mom’s wedding and for a bridal fashion show, but I didn’t want to get too involved in their conversation. I was just there as a server after all. Mona had been pretty strict when I started working at the salon that I wasn’t really supposed to chat with everyone. I was supposed to be working.

  “Yes, but where do you think would we find someone who . . .” Suddenly, Romaine stopped and turned to look at me. Then everyone was looking at me. I blushed and looked down just as Mona and Patricia burst back into the room with the rack of dresses.

  “Here we go!” said Mona.

  “YOU!” said Romaine.

  I looked up. “Me?”

  Mona looked both worried and confused. “Everything all right in here?” she asked.

  Romaine had crossed the room, her cheeks suddenly pink and her eyes shining with excitement. “Emma! Would you make cupcakes for my wedding?”

  I thought I was going to faint. I put my hand to my chest. “Me?” I croaked.

  “Yes, you!” cried Romaine.

  CHAPTER 3

  Stop the Presses!

  Mona clapped her hands and said, “That’s a lovely idea, but let’s get people started on their fittings, and then you can work out those details later. I know you ladies have limited time today. Romaine, would you like to come first, please? Right this way.”

  Still smiling, Romaine crossed the room and called, “I love this idea!” before she drew the curtain across the fitting room. Mona swished in behind her, a large white garment bag over her arm. Mona was wearing her white gloves, as usual. She never wants to leave a mark on any of the expensive fabrics or embroideries that the store features, so she wears white gloves when she’s touching the gowns. At first it seemed a little silly, but once, I accidentally got some frosting on a white dress I was wearing, and I learned the hard way you have to be really, really careful.

  Mona and Romaine chatted behind the curtain, while everyone else around the room chatted. I put down the cupcakes and passed iced water in small plastic party cups, which people gratefully gulped down. Chatting was thirsty work.

  Moments later the curtain was pulled back and Mona happily announced, “Ladies, here comes the bride!” And out stepped Romaine.

  Everyone in the room gasped. Romaine looked incredible! The dress was a simple, with white lace on top and a fitted white bodice underneath it, and little cap sleeves. The gown ballooned out into a princess-type bottom, with a big skirt made of a thick satin that glowed a pearly white and swished from side to side as Romaine walked.

  “Oh, darling!” said Mrs. Ford, and she began to cry. I almost cried too, but instead I jumped to get the tissue box from the sideboard and brought it over to Mrs. Ford, where she laughed and gratefully plucked a few tissues.

  “Oh!” She mopped her eyes. “You look more beautiful than I’ve ever seen!” she said to her daughter, and that was saying something.

  Romaine twirled and looked at the dress in the mirror, smiling so, so happily.

  “Awesome!” her sister said breathlessly.

  “Girl, you look g-l-a-m-o-r-o-u-s, glamor
ous!” sang Samantha.

  “I love it, Mona!” said Romaine sweetly. “It’s the prettiest dress I’ve ever worn. And it’s so comfortable! I thought it might be heavy or scratchy, but it’s not. I feel totally relaxed in it.” She spun around again.

  “It’s divine, dear, just divine!” said Mona. A row of pins between her clenched teeth made her talk kind of funny, but I was used to it. She got Romaine to stand still and then squatted, pinning the hem at the back of the dress and then standing to pin the bodice. “Please do make sure you’re eating enough cupcakes, though, because if I need to take this top part in any more at the final fitting, I’ll have to detach it and rework it to fit,” said Mona with a grin. “It won’t be easy!”

  “Didja hear that, Sammy?” Romaine cackled. “Call my manager and tell him! More cupcakes! Mona’s orders!”

  “Uh-uh, you tell him yourself!” said Samantha, all fake-scared.

  I smiled, watching them.

  Romaine was so cute. She kept looking at the dress in the mirror and just grinning from ear to ear. “I can’t wait until Liam sees me in this dress. That will be the highlight of the day for me. The look on his face as soon as I start down the aisle.”

  I was dying to know when the big day was, but I couldn’t ask. It wouldn’t have been appropriate. I just held the tray with the pins for Mona as Romaine turned very slowly around and Mona pinned a little bit at a time.

  Soon, Mona was finished and Romaine went to change out of the dress and then her maid of honor went in. That was when Romaine said, “Mona, I’m stealing your star for a minute to talk business.” She perched on the side of the sofa in her jeans, T-shirt, and socks and looked like she could have been one of my old babysitters rather than an international star.

  “Okay, Emma, let’s get down to details. We’re having a hundred guests, so I’d figure if you do full-size cupcakes, you’d want . . .”

  “We usually do a fifteen percent overage,” I said, feeling very professional using an Alexis business term. That meant for a hundred people, we’d make one hundred and fifteen cupcakes.

  “Great. Maybe do twenty percent,” Romaine said, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “I can exercise on my honeymoon.”

  “Got it.” I smiled conspiratorially, then asked, “And when do you need them?” I was figuring she wouldn’t need them till perhaps next month.

  “This coming weekend,” said Romaine in a whisper.

  “What?” I was shocked to say the least. “What about the premiere?” I felt a little nerdy acknowledging that I followed Romaine’s schedule in the press, but it was pretty obvious, anyway.

  Romaine giggled. “We staged the premiere to distract from my wedding. I wanted to have a hometown wedding, but I knew the press would get suspicious if all these Hollywood people were showing up in good old Maple Grove. Then they’d storm my backyard and come in with helicopters, and then my wedding would be ruined. So I’m tricking them.”

  “Wait, there isn’t a premiere?” Now I was confused.

  “There is, but there’s also a wedding the next day.”

  “Oh!” Now I got it. “That’s really smart!” I said.

  Romaine tapped the side of her head, like she was smart, but then she admitted, “It was my mom’s idea.”

  Samantha came out in her pale green satin bridesmaid dress, and we all oohed and aahed over it. She could have worn a potato sack and still looked like a queen. Her posture was so straight and elegant. Mona got to work on pinning her, and Romaine called her mom over to talk with us.

  “Let me grab a pen and paper,” I said, and dashed off.

  When I came back, Mrs. Ford was saying, “Too complicated!”

  “Nothing’s too complicated for the Cupcake Club!” I said.

  “Well . . .,” said Mrs. Ford. “Romaine and Liam can’t agree on flavors, so Romaine was saying it might be cute to do a selection. I think it’s too complicated, and it will look messy: chocolate over here, orange here. There needs to be some visual theme or organization.”

  I nodded. “What’s the theme of the wedding? What colors are the tables?”

  “Spring colors!” said Romaine, excited. “Pastels. Pale pink, pale blue, pale green, pale yellow.”

  “Pretty!” I said. “Like the bridesmaids’ dresses.”

  “Exactly!”

  I thought for a minute. “Well, we could do white cake and then have different-colored pastel frostings? We could flavor the frostings with some extracts if you wanted. Like the green could be mint, the pink could be raspberry.”

  Romaine and her mom looked at each other and grinned. “That might be just the thing,” said Mrs. Ford. Then she turned to me with a smile, but the look in her eyes was serious. “You can’t tell a soul.”

  “I . . . uh . . .” Can’t tell a soul? How am I going to bake cupcakes and not tell the others?

  “Pinkie promise!” said Romaine, and she crooked her pinkie at me.

  I laughed. “Um . . . the thing is, there are four of us in the Cupcake Club. That’s how we work. All together. I can’t not tell my partners. I mean, we do all the baking and decorating.” I could feel a blush rising from my neck, and my cheeks felt hot. I blinked hard. “I . . . I don’t know how I could even bake them all by myself.”

  Romaine wagged her pinkie at me again. “Come on! You’ll figure something out, right?”

  Mrs. Ford interjected, “I’m so sorry, honey, but we’ve found that the more people know, well, the more people tend to find out. We need to keep it between us chickens, or the press will descend and ruin it. And after all our hard work to keep it a secret.”

  How could I turn down the offer to bake Romaine Ford’s wedding cupcakes?

  I sighed and crooked my pinkie to link with Romaine’s.

  “Okay?” She smiled.

  “Okay,” I said. “I understand.” And I did. But I was already dreading keeping a secret like this from my best friends, not to mention how I was ever going to pull this off.

  As the morning wore on, the bridal party worked their way though all the dress fittings, as well as two servings of cupcakes each! It was a fun, festive atmosphere the whole time, and I could see Mona relax inch by inch as each member of the party came out in a dress that looked fantastic. Not to be immodest, but I think all the sweets helped keep everyone happy, too.

  By the end of the fitting, Mona was in a great mood, and the bridal party was kind of tired and giggly. Romaine got ready for her departure from the store by putting a dark wig on, with sunglasses and a baggy trench coat. It made us all laugh, seeing her like that because she looked so unlike herself.

  “Presenting the new Mrs. Liam Carey!” announced Samantha, and we all collapsed into giggles. Part of me felt scared for Romaine though, and a little sad. It would be so hard to be stalked by the press the way she is. Then her mom and her sister also donned costumes, as well as Samantha, and they all staggered their departures so that no one would notice them.

  Romaine left first, giving me a firm hug, along with her e-mail address, and asking me to send her a proposal as soon as possible. Her mom agreed and suggested a few other flavor ideas, and I made a note of them on my sheet of paper. Samantha also hugged me. “Let’s take a photo!” she said, and I almost hugged her. I would have never asked her myself. Patricia took one with my phone, and Samantha was very cute about it. She mimed eating a cupcake with a big grin on her face, and I was laughing. We looked good. I promised not to do anything with the photo until after the wedding. I thought it was so nice how protective Samantha was of Romaine. I’d do the same thing for any of my friends, especially Alexis. Even if she did end up marrying Matt. Eww . . ., I thought. I put that thought out of my head.

  By the time they’d all gone, Mona, Patricia, and I collapsed onto the sofas and closed our eyes to rest for a minute. It had been a lot of work and a lot of fun, and we were pooped.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Romaine having this fun morning with her family and best friends, and then having to
stalk off alone in disguise like a criminal. Now that I’d witnessed some of what she had to go through, I didn’t mind that much about not telling my friends about the cupcakes for Romaine’s wedding. Even though it would be hard, I would do it for Romaine’s sake.

  I opened my eyes and stretched. “Well, I’d better go, or I’m going to fall asleep on this sofa.”

  “I know. Aren’t these cushions divine?” asked Mona.

  “Divine,” I echoed with a giggle.

  Mona cracked open an eye and smiled. “Thanks for your help this morning, Emma. You were lovely, as usual.”

  “It’s easy when the clients are so nice.”

  “I know,” agreed Mona. “We’re lucky. Now for the rest of the world . . .”

  Patricia stood up. “I’ll go open up,” she said.

  I said good-bye to Mona and went to gather my jacket and my cupcake carrier. Patricia paid me for the cupcakes and my time, but I tried to only take the money for the cupcakes.

  “It was an honor! A privilege!” I said. “I should be paying you!” I always feel awkward with business transactions. It’s why I have an agent for my modeling and why I’m happy to let Alexis handle the Cupcake Club billing and negotiating. I felt a twinge thinking of how I’d have to do it all without her for the wedding cupcakes. Ugh.

  “Emma, take the money. I can’t have to fight to pay you ever time you come to work here, you silly goose,” said Patricia, pressing the envelope into my hand. “Look at Romaine and Samantha and how successful they’ve been. Don’t you think those two ladies know what their work is worth? How do you think they got so far?”

  “I guess,” I said awkwardly.

  “Don’t undervalue yourself, sweetie,” Patricia said, coming from behind the counter to put her arm around me and walk me to the door. “You’re a professional, and you’re worth every penny you make, if not more, okay?”

  “Thanks,” I said, giving her a quick hug. “See you next week!” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Wedding weekend!”

  “Shh!” said Patricia with a wink.

 

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