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Breathless With Her

Page 11

by Carrie Ann Ryan


  I had stared at that groom’s face in a photo for days, making sure that I got it right. Because that was the same dye lot number of the bridesmaids’ dresses. The blue of almost everything. Because the bride loved her soon-to-be husband so much, she wanted him everywhere. He hadn’t made any decisions about the wedding, it had all been the bride. And she had pulled her groom into everything.

  And now the cake looked like the corpse bride.

  The lace had bled into itself, the blue bleeding, as well. It looked as if blue streaks were pulsating down the lace, like the blue veins of a zombie corpse bride. This wasn’t the wedding of the moment, this was the wedding from hell.

  “Oh my God!” Zoey screamed from the back door. I tried to shout her name, attempted to tell her where I was.

  But as I opened my mouth, nothing came out.

  Nothing was working.

  My hands were numb, my brain wasn’t firing, but I could do this. I could do this on my own. I could fix this. I could remake this cake. I could call the insurance adjusters. I could clean this up. I could do it all.

  So why wasn’t I breathing?

  Why was this happening at all?

  Oh, God. Everything from my life had been put into this. My life savings, my retirement. This was my business. This was the one thing I had left after the divorce. Now, it was gone. Just like the death of that cake in front of me.

  “Oh my God. The cake. It looks like a corpse. You know, like that Tim Burton movie? The Corpse Bride.”

  I turned on my heel, ignoring the splash of water as I did.

  “Why was that the first thing I thought, too?” I asked, putting my hands over my eyes.

  “I can’t think. I need to turn off the water. But it’s not water, is it? It’s not a pipe. It’s rain.”

  I lowered my hands. I looked at Zoey.

  She shook her head, and tears fell from her eyes.

  “No. It’s not. Okay. I know the rain was bad. We can fix this. I know a clean-up crew. You call the insurance people, and then we’ll worry about everything else. Call in your staff. I’ll get Amelia in here. We’ll figure it out.”

  I wasn’t crying. I wasn’t really doing anything. I was just standing there. And I couldn’t just stand there. I needed to make decisions. I needed to take this into my own hands and figure it out because I had to do this alone. I could do this. I was strong. I was capable. I could do anything I set my mind to.

  And I could not serve up a corpse bride cake.

  “Why can’t I get Tim Burton out of my head?” I asked. Knowing I was becoming a little hysterical. Okay, maybe a lot hysterical.

  “Because it looks just like her dress. But that’s fine. You’re going to call the bride and let her know what happened.”

  “Oh my God. She’s going to die.”

  “No. The cake is. But that’s fine. You can do another one.

  “The wedding is tomorrow.”

  Zoey just kept nodding. Her eyes wild.

  “Oh. I know. But you can bake at home.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. Stop it. Snap out of it.”

  “You sounded exactly like Cher the way you said that. You know, from that ‘80s movie?” Because she had. I snorted, and then I laughed. And then tears fell, and I hated myself for it.

  Zoey stepped forward, her hands out, and I shook my head.

  “No. Don’t come at me, or I’m going to start crying again or harder, and I don’t have time for that.”

  “Okay. We’re going to clean this up. We’re going to make lists. And we’re going to figure this out. We’re fine. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “Okay, yes, I totally believe you. But first, come on, let’s get out of the fridge and, you know, out of this water because you’re starting to make sounds that only dogs can hear at this point.”

  “True.”

  “Oh God.”

  “Darling? Erin?”

  “Mrs. Murphy!” I said, pushing past Zoey and giving her a quick squeeze on the shoulder as I went to one of my neighbors. My shop neighbor, who sold pies. Actually, she was two buildings down, and our businesses didn’t conflict with each other. I did mostly cakes and cupcakes and brownies. She did pies that she sold in the store rather than made-to-order like I did. We sometimes sold stuff together and worked with each other for different functions. I loved her to death. And for some reason, I just wanted to cry on her shoulder. Mrs. Murphy was in her late sixties, pretty, slender, and looked at least twenty years younger than she was. She had her hair bundled up in a bun on the top of her head. Her glasses were big and wide and the style that now fit the fashion, even though she had worn the same type when they weren’t so in style.

  “I was walking past this morning with my coffee and saw the outside of your building. Oh my God, darling. What can I do?”

  “I don’t know yet. But I might need your help. I have a cake due tomorrow, and I just don’t know what to do.”

  “Well, first, you’re going to call your insurance adjuster. And then you’re going to come over to me, and we’re going to get what you need done in my kitchen. I don’t have all the pans that you need, but the water doesn’t seem to have gotten to that side of your space, so we can move them over to mine, and we’ll get it done. Between you and me and anyone else we can pull in from our staff, we’ll get you set up. You just do what you need to do. Because you are going to be amazing.”

  “I don’t...I don’t know what to say,” I said, my voice coming out in that high-pitched squeak again.

  “You helped me when I broke my leg and couldn’t keep up with orders. You worked day and night to make sure that I kept my business. And I’m going to do the same for you, young lady. You understand me?”

  I couldn’t say anything. Instead, the tears threatened again, but I refused to cry. Because if I cried, I wouldn’t stop. And I needed to be stronger than that.

  Zoey pushed past me and hugged the older woman.

  “You’re amazing, Mrs. Murphy. Okay, let’s get this done. I’m going to call into my store and tell them I’m not going to be in today.”

  “You own the store, Zoey. You can’t do that.”

  “I own the store, so maybe I can do exactly that.”

  “I can’t ask that of you.” I didn’t want to take her away from her business. This was my problem.

  “I can do whatever the fuck I want. And I know that look in your eyes. You’re thinking that this is all your fault and your mistake, or some crap like that. And you’re just going to shut up about that because I love you. This was an actual weather phenomenon. An actual and literal act of God. So you’re going to shut the fuck up. And you’re going to do what I say.”

  “I thought you just said that I was the boss of this place. You can’t just take over.”

  “As soon as you breathe and stop freaking out, you are going to be your own damn boss.”

  “You know, I would chastise you both for your language, but I’ll allow it for now,” Mrs. Murphy said as she smiled at us.

  I pulled my head out of my ass and rolled my shoulders back.

  “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  “See? Your voice is already lowering a bit, dear. Now only some dogs can hear you.”

  I flipped her off, cringed as Mrs. Murphy shook her head. And then got to work.

  It took five hours. Five hours of dealing with phone calls, adjusters, emails, and crying brides.

  But we were going to make it work.

  Amelia had shown up during her lunch hour, complete with subs and sodas and chips for everyone, and rolled up her sleeves to help me with the fondant. While dealing with phone calls on my Bluetooth, my laptop in one corner, I baked my heart out.

  The bride and I had come up with a plan, one where it wouldn’t be as intricate, but would still be beautiful. I wasn’t going to sleep that night, but I would get it done.

  Between my staff, Mrs. Murphy’s people, the woman herself, and my two friends, we were making it work.


  I was still freaking out while trying not to think about the loss of revenue and the fact that I was going to have to borrow Mrs. Murphy’s kitchen for longer than either of us planned. I wouldn’t have a place to work until the insurance adjusters could finish their piece, and the contractors could come in and do the work. But I would make it work. I would just have to bake out of my home kitchen again just like I had when I first opened the business. I would figure it out.

  Because there wasn’t another option.

  Zoey had come in with beautiful blue flowers that we were going to use around the base of the cake. I could replicate a lot of the edible flowers, but some of them would have to be real ones. The whole thing wouldn’t be completely edible, but it would still be beautiful.

  And the new cake wouldn’t have as much lace, but I was going to do the top tier and the third tier down as all lace. The second and the base tier would have to be smooth fondant, but I was going to do my best to quilt some of it and add some edible pearls.

  It would all work out. This wasn’t going to be a complete corpse bride cake.

  But the place that was my heart and soul, the business I had put so much of my life into, needed to be redone.

  All because a storm had bulldozed its way through my roof and ruined everything.

  I felt like I could barely catch my breath, but that was fine. I would make sure everything worked out.

  It wasn’t like I had another choice.

  I was just working on another set of edible flowers when the door to Mrs. Murphy’s pie shop opened, the bell signaling a customer. I froze when I heard a familiar voice.

  A deep voice that went straight to my core and made my spine stiffen.

  “Where is she?” Devin asked. I had my head and my back to the front as I worked on the flowers in my hands so I couldn’t see him. I had to focus. I didn’t have time for anything but this project.

  But, damn, his voice did things to me.

  “Erin? Are you okay?” he asked, coming to my side. I risked a glance at him, tried to smile. I knew it hadn’t done its job when his brows rose.

  “I’m fine.”

  “She’s not fine, but at least her high-pitched-ness has gone down a bit. Both humans and dogs can hear her now.”

  “I would flip you off, Zoey, but my hands are full.”

  “I can see your hands are full,” Devin said. “Why didn’t you call me?” he asked, looking down at me with such a fierce expression, I turned away from it.

  It was hard to focus when he was around. It was hard to do anything but want him when he was around.

  And that was the problem.

  “I...I didn’t think about it.”

  “You didn’t think about it.”

  I winced.

  “I’m sorry. Everyone just showed up to help. I was doing fine on my own. I mean, I had to do this on my own. Maybe. But they came to me. And they’re amazing. And I’m sorry. I just didn’t think to call you.” I winced again. “I mean, you don’t work with cakes or anything.”

  “I don’t. Neither does my sister. Or Zoey. And you don’t have to do everything on your own, Erin.”

  Well, then. That was a verbal slap if I ever heard one. “I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head.

  “I got it. You don’t have to be sorry. But we’re friends, too, right? Don’t forget that. Now, tell me what I can do to help. And we’ll get it done. You got a contractor to work on your place?”

  “I do.”

  “It’s a place you would have recommended anyway,” Amelia said from across the kitchen.

  “Good. Now, tell me what you need.”

  I just looked at him and wondered how this was my life now. I had so many people to rely on, so many people that hadn’t been in my life before when I was with Nicholas.

  I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. And I was afraid if I focused too hard, I would cry again. So, I pushed those thoughts out of my head and went to my mental checklist.

  Being busy would help. And then I could think about my feelings.

  Maybe.

  Or maybe not.

  Chapter 10

  Devin

  I leaned back against the wall and eyed the massive dog in front of me. Oh, it looked friendly. Generally, they all did.

  It narrowed its dark eyes at me, and I tilted my head, trying to look calm. As if I weren’t a threat. I wasn’t a threat. The one with the very sharp teeth and shaggy head of hair, that one was the threat.

  “Are you eying my dog?” Dimitri asked, walking into the living room with two beers in hand.

  “You say dog, I say beast.”

  Captain, the very friendly and adorable, aging Golden Retriever barked once, and then leaned in to my outstretched hand.

  I wasn’t afraid of dogs, not really. I had just been chased by one or two. And never by the big ones. No, it was always the small ones, the ones that made those yippy sounds. Yes, those were the ones that others in my profession called evil. They would latch onto your ankle just like in the media, and you’d have to shake them off. But you couldn’t shake off poor Poopsie. Because if you did and you hurt it, it was your fault. Not the dog’s, or the owners’, who let the little rat come at you.

  I pushed those thoughts from my mind, though, because now I was just ranting inside my head about invisible dogs that didn’t actually exist. I was not afraid of dogs.

  And I loved this one.

  Captain had been in Dimitri’s life for a while now, and he was sweet, caring, and seemed to know that I was slightly put off by the four-legged persuasion. He was always nice to me, and I was pretty sure he fucked around with me, as well. As in he slowly stalked me and narrowed his eyes at me, just to see what I would do.

  But Captain was a good boy.

  And I loved dogs.

  I just didn’t want one.

  Maybe not until I retired.

  “Captain, come here,” Dimitri said, holding back a laugh.

  I glared at my brother and held out my hand for the extra beer. “I don’t hate your dog.”

  “I know you don’t. And I know you’ve probably told yourself that in your head over and over again. But, really. It’s like you want to be a stereotype.”

  I took a sip of my beer and pointed the neck of the bottle at my older brother. “It’s not a stereotype if it actually happens. And, I’m pretty sure your dog just likes to mess with me.”

  “Yes, because he can totally do that.” Dimitri met gazes with his dog, and I swore I saw a look of understanding there. Yep, they were messing with me. I seriously loved Captain. I loved all the sweet dogs that were in my life. I just didn’t really like the yipping ones that attacked me when I was trying to deliver mail. But whatever. It was a hazard of the job and something I had to deal with. Daily.

  “Anyway, thanks for inviting us all over for dinner,” Dimitri said, petting Captain’s head.

  Captain had been named after Captain America. Dimitri and the new love of his life were equally addicted to all things Marvel. I didn’t mind, but the fact that I had walked in on them in their kitchen at one point saying something about being on their left, and ‘I love you three thousand,’ and something else about pants being taken off and America’s ass, I really wanted nothing to do with their fascination with Marvel.

  I liked the movies, loved the comics, but I really had no idea how Marvel movies went with people’s sex lives.

  “I figured it was time for a family meal, and it’s easier for you guys to come up here, rather than for us to go down there. But we’ll take turns.”

  “Caleb’s getting a bigger house, so we’ll be able to fit all of us at some point.”

  “I know he’s in the kitchen with Amelia and Thea, but do you know why he finally quit his job and is settling down here for another pension?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

  “Nope. And I’m not going to ask.”

  I met Dimitri’s gaze. “Really? You’re not going to meddle?”

  �
��I may be the big brother, but you’re more meddling than I am.”

  “I’m not that bad,” I said, scrunching my brow.

  “You are that bad,” Amelia said, walking in with a glass of wine in her hand. She’d tied her dark hair back from her face and put it into some kind of messy bun at the crown of her head. She was always working so hard these days. I rarely saw her. Though I had seen her the week before at Mrs. Murphy’s bakery when I was there to try and help Erin, even though Erin hadn’t wanted my help.

  No, I wasn’t going to be that person. At least, not now.

  “Dimitri’s worse than I am,” I said quickly.

  “Actually, you’re pretty much the same.”

  “Hey,” Dimitri and I said at the same time. We stared at each other, clearly not knowing who should be more offended. It should be me. Right?

  “Oh, come on, Dimitri lives in Colorado Springs so now he just FaceTimes and texts and calls to make sure that I’m doing what I need to and exhibiting proper behavior.” Amelia rolled her eyes and took a sip of her wine.

  “My honey bunny talking about proper behavior?” Thea said, walking in with a plate of cheese.

  The fact that my brother’s woman was holding a plate of cheese was not surprising in the least. I was pretty sure if cheese could be another part of their relationship, much like Marvel, they would be in some weird foursome that I wanted nothing to do with. They were both quirky and adorable. And I loved it.

  It was good to see Dimitri happy. He hadn’t been happy with his ex-wife. Not really. But none of us had said anything. Because it hadn’t been our place. And, at the time, we had thought he was happy.

  We’d been wrong. So wrong.

  “Honey bunny?” Dimitri asked, raising a single brow. I couldn’t do that. Apparently, it was hereditary, but only Dimitri could do it with that level of perfection. He must practice it in front of a mirror for hours. I wouldn’t put it past him.

  “What? I enjoy trying out new phrases. And you’re just as bad as Devin. Caleb’s pretty bad, too. As is Amelia.” Thea just grinned as we all glared at her. “What? You all home in on each other’s business, are all overprotective in different ways, and you want what’s best for each other. It’s like you’re Montgomerys.”

 

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