“This is she.”
“My name’s Eric Lang. I received your number from a colleague of mine,” he starts to explain. “I hope it’s okay that I reach out to you like this, but I’m looking into remodeling a large property out in La Jolla and am in need of a designer-slash-decorator.”
“Oh, yes,” I answer, my mind shifting into work mode. “Yes, of course.”
“It’s a resort-style hotel, a little run down, but I just took ownership of it last month and am currently planning a whole remodel. You came highly recommended.”
“Oh, well, thank you for reaching out.”
“Would you be available to meet? Maybe sometime this week?”
“I have to check my calendar, but yes, absolutely. Would it be okay if I get back to you? I want to make sure I don’t double book before setting a time and date.”
“Absolutely,” he answers. “You can reach me at this number anytime.”
“Great. Thank you, Eric. I’ll be in touch soon.”
I press the button to end the call right as I pull into the small six-car parking lot of Just Sweets. The bell dings as soon as I enter the store, announcing my arrival and initiating an eager greeting from a middle-aged redhead in a floral apron.
“Hi!”
“Hi,” I respond. “I’m here for the cake tasting. For the Cohen wedding?”
“Oh, yes! You must be Mina.”
I wave a hand in her direction to correct her. “Oh, no. I’m one of the bridesmaids. Mina’s a bit busy so I’m here to help out.”
“Well, nice to meet you. I’m Kelly. Is it just you?”
“The groom, my brother, is on his way,” I tell her.
Just then, we’re interrupted by the sound of the same chime that sounded when I entered the quaint yet stylish shop. When I turn to face the entrance, I see my brother enter the store.
“This must be the groom,” Kelly announces.
Josh reaches my side and nods politely. “Josh Cohen,” he says, introducing himself.
“Nice to meet you,” Kelly responds. “We’ll do the tasting here,” she tells us, gesturing to a small wrought-iron table with two chairs set up next to a display case of cupcakes.
Kelly disappears as Josh and I synchronously pull out chairs and sit.
“Thanks for helping out,” Josh says solemnly.
“Sure.” It’s quiet between us, and I don’t miss the somber mood radiating off my brother. “Is everything okay?”
He nods unconvincingly.
“Are you sure?”
He hesitates, running his fingertip over the pronged plastic fork sitting in front of him. When he looks at me, his face softens into something that aligns with sympathy. “I talked to Leo.”
“Oh.”
“He called, asked me to meet him for lunch.”
“What did he tell you?”
His brow furrows. “That you kicked him out. And you’re talking to lawyers.”
