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“So, we’re going to celebrate. What do you say?” Mom asked, eyes sparkling.
“What about Batter and Bake? We’ve been swamped. Who’s covering?”
“The girls have it covered,” Mom said. “There are a few of them there until close at six. Tomorrow, we can get back to work, but for today, we celebrate! I’ve already ordered more food than we can eat in a week, so let’s get you something to drink and relax, shall we?”
Mom turned to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of the sparkling lemonade I liked and held it out. “Thorne’s already having some. Would you like a glass?”
I nodded, completely overwhelmed, and waited as she filled a flute with the bubbling liquid. Beside me, Thorne hooked an arm around my waist and whispered into my hair, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice an octave higher than normal. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Just checking. You seem . . . off.”
I expelled a shaky breath as Mom pushed my drink toward me. “It’s just a lot to take in, that’s all.”
“But all good, right?”
“Absolutely,” I said, even though I didn’t sound too convincing. “In a good way.”
“Okay, you two. Time for toasts,” Mom announced, clinging a fork against the side of her glass.
When we turned our attention to her, she held up her wine and said, “To winning the battle.”
“To a booming business,” Dad added.
Thorne lifted his flute out and pursed his lips, then said, “To the positive press. It’s nice to see the media isn’t always the bad guy.”
Then everyone glanced at me, their gazes expectant as I held my glass out with a shaky hand. I thought about Thorne and what it would be like when he returned to work; then I thought about what my life was like before he entered it. How boring it would be once he was gone, and my mood sank into darkness.
But I forced those thoughts away and thought about Parson’s and how having a boyfriend and a long-distance relationship while I worked on my dream would be impossible anyway. So I tried for a smile I didn’t fully feel and simply said, “To the future.”
Chapter 26
THORNE
Thebellonthedoor jingled when I entered the shop, and it brought me right back to the last time I was there. Somehow, it felt like a lifetime ago—when I’d gone to Batter and Bake after my hospital appearance. I was angry and sullen, with the intention to set the record straight. Only I hadn’t expected the brunette spitfire behind the counter or the idea that took root upon meeting her.
I paused behind a line of customers, with Big Joe at my heels, as I glimpsed Scarlett across the bakery, and the effect she had on me was still the same. One look from her and all the pretense, the bullshit slipped away. She had this ability to cut to the quick, revealing a person’s insides. I could no more run from her than I could run from the truth. It made perfect sense I was falling for her, because with Scarlett, you couldn’t be anything but one-hundred percent authentic.
My gaze scanned the crowded lobby. Customers stood beside the wall, waiting for orders while the girls behind the counter worked furiously to accommodate them. To my left, they had set up one of the small bistro tables as a makeshift booth with a sign that read “Special Orders Here.” It was there I found her, cheeks flushed, with tendrils of hair falling out of a messy bun.
Bypassing the line, I swooped in behind her as she filled out what appeared to be an order form for a customer and bent down, wrapping my arms around her from behind.
Startled, she glanced back at me. “What are you doing here?”
“I figured if I wanted to see my girlfriend, I’d have to come to her.”
She smiled, but the moment was short-lived. Somewhere behind us, a customer yelled, “Oh my god, it’s Thorne Roberts!”
I glanced up in time to see a roomful of eyes scanning the bakery until they found us, and the noise level instantly turned thunderous. A bunch of people got out of line to crowd around the order booth, and without direction, Big Joe stepped forward, angling his body slightly in front of mine with one hand out like a linebacker. Others pulled out their phones and started snapping pictures while some lobbed questions into the air.
A flicker of fear brightened Scarlett’s eyes as someone in the back pushed through the crowd to get a better look. And for a moment, I wished I was just a normal guy—a random teenager stopping to visit his girlfriend instead of a Hollywood star.
Big Joe shifted fully in front of me now, arms crossed as he held the line in front of Scarlett’s table.
“Are you able to take a break?” I asked Scarlett, loud enough she could hear me over the crowd.
She sighed and glanced longingly at the door. “Usually, things settle down by now. We’re supposed to close at five on Saturdays, but it’s quarter till, and it doesn’t look like I’ll be going anywhere any time soon.”
