Finally, the bakery comes into view—a small shop with white brick walls. The Puget Sound sends a wave of ocean air over my skin as I hop off my scooter and shake out my wet hair. The cute curls I'd spent forever on this morning are limp and frizzy.
With a frown, I glance down at my summer dress, and tears fill my eyes when I notice how completelyruinedthe thin material is. It's completely soaked, the dye on the red cherries oozing down the fabric like blood. Beneath it, myhot-pink brais visible and everything.
“No, no,” I sob, wiping my face only to find mascara covering my fingertips. “Just my fucking luck.”
Seriously, can'tonething go right for me? Ever since leaving Utah, it feels like I've run into one disaster after another.
Stifling a sniffle, I tighten the grip on my purse and enter the shop, feeling like a miserable sack of wet dog food. A bell chimes overhead as I step inside, announcing my humiliation to the entire room. Every head within a five-foot radius turns.
Great.
I freeze just inside the doorway, rain dripping off the hem of my dress and pooling at my feet. The scent of fresh-baked bread and sugar cookies tickle my nostrils, further driving home the fact that I'mstarving.
“Hi,” a girl behind the counter says gently, already reaching for some napkins. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I lie, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks.Ugh.
She winces sympathetically and slides me the entire stack, which tells me everything I need to know about how bad I must look.
I dab at my face, then give up entirely when the thin napkins only stick to my wet skin. “I’m here for the… photography thing?”
Her face brightens. “Oh! Yeah, you’re right on time. She’s just setting up in the back.”
My flats squelch against the tile with each step I take. Honestly, the place is adorable—warm lighting, long wooden tables, a chalkboard menu. Everything smells delicious, which is rude, because your girl is broke as fuck.
Tell me why I moved to Seattle again?
I smooth down my dress—which does absolutely nothing—and let out a shaky breath before entering the backroom. It’s a small, intimate event space, complete with a few photography umbrellas. Soft fairy lights twinkle overhead, and an antique buffet table sits near the back wall, its scuffed wood painted pastel pink.
On top of it are little porcelain teacups with floral patterns. Tiny spoons are laid out like a tea party and there’s even a small spread of treats—mini pastries, shortbread cookies, and slices of pie. My stomach growls loudly.
Why is there always food when I’m trying not to cry?
“You must be Arya,” comes a warm voice to my right, and I turn to see Sadie, the photographer, smiling at me. I recognize her long caramel strands from the social media ad. When she takes in my appearance, the happiness drops from her face. “Oh, it looks like you got caught in a little rain.”
Immediately, and instantaneously, I burst into tears. “I'msosorry. The sky was blue when I left, and I don't have a car. Not that it would matter because the nearest parking garage is miles away, and what'swiththat? Salt Lake City has them everywhere. Why are your streets so small and crowded? And why is it always raining?”
Sadie’s dark brown eyes widen as she grabs a jacket off the back of a chair to toss around my shoulders. “Hey, it's alright. We can always reschedule, though your stranger is already here—”
Someone steps out from behind one of the lighting umbrellas next to us. “Arya?”
My spine snaps straight as I slowly spin in place.
Oh, perfect.This is just the cherry on top of a sopping wet cake that is me because the hottie from work—who I never saw again after the coffee incident three days ago—is staringstraight at me.And she looks like a goddess.
“Olivia, hi,” I breathe, trying to smile even though my chin trembles. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Deep red lips curve into a gentle smile, matching the burgundy gown that hugs her every curve. “I thought I recognized your voice.”
“You did?” That does absolutely nothing to help my emotional stability.
Olivia nods, glancing down at my soaked dress and the jacket that Sadie wrapped around my shoulders. “I mean, not because you’re…crying,” she rushes to add. “Obviously. I just… the other day was quite memorable.”
“That’s one word for it,” I scoff, wiping my eyes. “Seems every time we meet, I end up wet.”
We both freeze, blinking at one another until a giggle bubbles out of my throat, which I try to apologize for through my laughter.
“Well! This is actually kind of perfect,” Sadie says with a pretty grin. “The fact that you know each other should help you both relax.”
