Tina rushed in behind her. Excitement brightened her eyes. “I think Donald Trump just arrived.”
Sophia, finally calm after zipping around the kitchen like a manic elf earlier, looked up from the cart holding her signature confection. The three-tier, stark white cake with climbing red poinsettia blooms was as much a work of art as it was dessert. Returning nerves showed in her stiff smile. “Really?”
Wide-eyed, her sister-in-law nodded furiously.
Jane laughed. “Relax, Soph. It’s not him.”
Tina frowned in disappointment. “Are you sure?”
“It’s the hair. They must use the same barber.”
Sophia let out a shaky laugh.
“Huh.” Tina shrugged. “I’ve never seen so much bling in my life. It looks like a Tiffany’s convention out there. And did you see the tall blonde’s sandals, Jane? They’re gorgeous!” She sighed. “I can’t wait to be one of those women who can afford to pay a month’s wages for four tiny straps of satin and a row of beads.”
Jane grinned. A slave to designer labels, Tina had a closet full of high-fashion imitations, with a few originals mixed in. “At least you can afford the knock-offs. I drool over the selection at the secondhand store.”
Tina bared her teeth in an unapologetic smile.
“If you’re done comparing poverty levels, girls, it’s time to go earn tonight’s pay.” Sophia dusted her hands on her apron. “Are we set up for the last course?”
“The coffee is ready and the tables cleared.” Jane folded a fresh white silk napkin over one arm. “All that’s missing is you and your awesome cake.”
The chef heaved a deep sigh. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.”
Jane grasped the cart’s front handle as Sophia grabbed her arm.
“Wait. How do I look?”
Tina rolled her eyes, gripping the other handle. “You look like the beautiful chef who just blew the socks off Manhattan’s elite.”
“Good. Just what I was shooting for.” They shared a grin, then Sophia let out a heavy breath. “Okay, here we go.”
Jane rolled the large cart down the hallway into the grand living room. The milling crowd turned at their approach. She didn’t need to look back to know Sophia blushed under the oohs and aahs as the guests broke into polite applause for the designer cake and its creator.
Jane smiled, scanning the well-dressed crowd until her gaze snagged on a familiar profile beneath a dark Stetson. Her heart lodged in her throat, and she stumbled to a stop. In disbelief, she gawked at Gabe Sutton bending close to speak in Melanie Archer’s ear.
Behind her, Tina attempted to slow the momentum of the cart and failed. The metal handle bumped Jane’s hip, sending her lurching forward. The watching crowd gasped as the cake swayed before settling once more.
“Jane!”
Rooted to the spot, she couldn’t answer Tina’s whispered demand—especially with the piercing green, masculine gaze that suddenly clashed with hers.
Gabe straightened to his full height and immediately began moving in her direction.
Spinning around, she began tugging the cart, and Tina, toward the patio door. “Sorry.”
Her co-worker pinned her with a confused stare, but there was concern in her lowered brow. Jane shook her head, silently pleading for understanding when she caught the identical look of distress on Sophia’s face. From the corner of her eye, she marked Gabe’s progress, quickly closing in, then doubled her efforts at speeding the cake to its final destination on the patio before one very intent cowboy entrepreneur could reach her and ruin Sophia’s perfect night.
Tina struggled to control the sudden wobble of the cart when it bounced over the threshold, whispering between clenched teeth, “For heaven’s sake! Slow down!”
Jane didn’t bother looking back and didn’t slow down. Six feet. Six short feet and she could slip around the bar and through the pantry door toward escape. She simply couldn’t allow the approaching Calamity Jane moment to occur in front of friends and strangers alike. Manhattan’s elite wouldn’t understand, and the Garbinos would never forgive her.
Unfortunately, those six feet were three too long. A large hand clasped her shoulder, and Jane jolted. A collective groan filled the air as the cart clipped the edge of the bar and shuddered wildly beneath her hand. She couldn’t look. Squeezing her eyes shut on Sophia’s gasping cry, Jane scrunched them tighter at the sound of crystal shattering on flagstone, followed by a damp thud.
A deep voice spoke in her ear. “I’ve been looking for you…Shae.”
Jane wanted to sink into the floor, but the hand gripping her shoulder held her in place. Knowing she had no choice, and hoping to convince Gabe to take the coming conversation somewhere a little less public, she opened her eyes to the narrowed green gaze she’d dreamed of many times since Paris. The heated passion her subconscious placed in his gaze during those dreams was missing, however, replaced with a furious demand for answers.