Page 47 of A Taste of Vanilla

Seasonal banana-vanilla cold foam, available iced or hot.

My hand hovers, but then I write,

BANANA VANILLA COLD FOAM LATTE

NOW WITH 40% LESS FAITH IN MEN.

I step back.

Better.

A knock sounds against the front window.

I jump back hard enough that the chalk almost goes flying. Marley stands outside holding a drink carrier and wearing sunglasses big enough to hide classified information. Beside her, Oliver holds a brown paper bag and looks like he lost a fight with daylight.

I unlock the door, and Marley sweeps in first. “Good morning, abandoned bride.”

I stand, shocked. “Wow.”

She kisses my cheek. “Too soon?”

“Extremely.”

“Okay. Good morning, emotionally relocated bakery goblin.”

“Better.”

Oliver steps in behind her and locks the door before placing a brown bag on the counter. “I made eggs,” he grumbles.

Marley eyes him. “Sorry, he’s cranky because I made him stop for iced lattes. I wasn’t going to make you make your own.”

I look at Oliver. “You made eggs?”

“Don’t make it weird.”

“You cooked for me.”

He sighs. “I put eggs in a pan, Halston.”

“With love.”

“With salt.”

Marley leans against the counter. “He also made toast.”

He rolls his eyes.

“And he cut the slices diagonally.”

“Marley,” he hisses.

“Like a caring little soccer mom.”

“I’ll leave right now.”

“No, you won’t,” I coo.

He looks furious.