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My mind was jumbled from what had just happened, making me slow to switch my feelings off and focus on her question.
“We’re not serving the cake,” I said.
Confusion flooded her face, so I glanced at Colin. Hadn’t he gone over this with them already? He simply stared at me, seething.
“We’re not serving the presentation cake, I mean,” I said. “There’s sheet cake for the guests, and the kitchen can start plating that whenever they need to.”
I knew it had been delivered along with the tiered presentation cake, because we’d seen the trays less than an hour ago in the walk-in cooler.
“Oh.” She looked relieved. “Sorry for the confusion. They thought the flat cakes were extra just in case we needed them. I’ll let everyone know.”
“Thanks,” I said.
Her gaze flitted to Colin, who still hadn’t said a word or moved an inch. She must have decided she didn’t have time to figure him out, because she flashed a brief smile at me, turned, and hurried back to the kitchen.
Was this how the night was going to go? “You can be pissed at me, but set it aside tonight for Troy.”
His head turned slowly, and he leveled a hard gaze at me. “Unless it’s business related,” his tone was icy, “I don’t want to hear a goddamn word from you for the rest of the night.”
“Fine,” I spat out.
The green room at the back of Blanche’s was more like a closet than anything else. It had an old couch on one side and a desk on the other, plus a mirror with lights lining its perimeter.
Troy had only arrived a little while ago, and I knew this would be my one opportunity to get any face time with him tonight. The door was open to the tiny room, and I was surprised to find he was alone inside. I raised my hand to knock on the doorframe and announce myself, only to pause.
My friend looked . . . nervous.
In fact, he looked more nervous and sweatier than I’d ever seen him. Maybe Erika wasn’t back here because he didn’t want her to see him like this, or perhaps he liked to be alone as he prepared for a set. I didn’t fault him for being anxious. Tonight was huge for him, and if I were in his shoes, I’d be doing my best not to throw up.
I lowered my hand and started to back out of the doorway, except my movement caught his attention.
“Hey, Preston.” His expression brightened and he let out a deep breath, one that sounded a hell of a lot like relief.
“Hey. You okay? Can I get you anything?”
He gestured for me to come closer. “Get in here and distract me so I don’t start freaking out.”
I stepped inside and was eager to help, although I hadn’t a clue what to say. He’d performed with Stella during one of her sold-out shows, which had been like fifty thousand people. Tonight, there were only two hundred and most were friends and family. Wouldn’t this be a cakewalk by comparison?
But maybe that was the problem. Performing for tens of thousands of strangers was less pressure than for the people he cared about, or whose opinion held sway over his career’s future.
“You’re going to do awesome tonight,” I said. “You want me to find Erika for you?”
“No!” He answered so quickly, and my question somehow made him look more nervous.
Oh, shit.
Had they broken up? Up until this moment, I’d liked her, and them together, but if she’d dumped him right before the biggest day of his life . . . well, I was going to have some less than neighborly words with the woman who lived next door.
Whatever face I was making, it must have asked for an explanation because Troy glanced out in the hall, then jammed a hand into his pocket. He pulled out a small black velvet bag, and my confusion evaporated as his fingers plucked a diamond ring from inside.
“No fucking way,” I said.
It shouldn’t have floored me like it did. They’d been together for nearly three years, and he’d been in love with her much longer than that—but still.
I was speechless.
He was going to ask her to marry him. My friend had found the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
