“That's my point – these guys don't want gold diggers, they would spot a faker a mile away. They reacted to you, this is the real you. The Evolution of Katya Tocci. Enjoy it. Embrace it. And then go get this guy, before you lose him for good.”
Sage words from a hungover bartender. Tori fell asleep soon after her grand speech, but Katya stayed awake for a while. Staring at the ceiling and still trying to figure out what the fuck she was going to do. She had one day before she had to go back to work, and she had a big week – she had to be on her A-game. She may have been taking steps towards realizing her entire life didn't need to revolve around her career, but she was also proud of what she did and she wanted to put out good work. People had booked her in good faith, she would not let them down.
I will not let these boys ruin me.
20
Tuesday went by with more crippling agony and self-doubt. She couldn't bring herself to take Tori's advice and confront Wulf, so she contented herself with staring at her phone and praying for him to call. Liam finally went the creepy route and let himself into her apartment with his master key set, but she didn't mind too much. He was back to his normal self, teasing her and laughing with her. They spent most of the day together at his apartment – her oven was STILL broken, she reminded him – trying to teach him how to make macarons.
“Why do you want to learn how to make a French dessert?”
“Because you like making desserts.”
“So?”
“And I like doing things you like.”
She hadn't known how to respond to that, so she'd busied herself with the prep work. The macarons didn't turn out horrible – maybe not perfectly round, but they tasted delicious, and she assured Liam that in the end, that's all that really mattered in baking. She went home with a plateful, barely dodging a kiss before slipping through his door.
Nighttime was rough. She couldn't quite keep her thoughts at bay. It hurt that she could so easily be disposed of. It had been a week. She'd actually gotten out a physical calendar and counted the days – Wednesday would mark one week since she'd last seen or spoken to Wulf. He wasn't returning her phone calls or texts. It was like he'd disappeared.
Or like I died.
It hurt. And not just to know that he didn't care for her the same way she cared for him, but also because it showed that he'd never cared about her. Not even as a friend. There were moments when he'd seemed so bright and perfect to her, she'd almost been blinded by him.
She missed his voice. Missed him teasing her. Missed his tongue, the way it could burn a path across her body. His hands, squeezing and pinning and pulling. Missed seeing those all-too-rare smiles, and missed being happy when she put one on his face.
Apparently, looking at him like he was a present wasn't enough. If I'd known he was gonna cut me out of his life completely, I never would've gone to that stupid restaurant.
She took her time waking up on Wednesday morning. She wouldn't be in the bakery much that day – she had to go on-site to work with a client in their reception hall. She was glad because that meant work would be a bigger distraction than normal.
She slid into a dark pair of skinny jeans, then pulled on a tight, long sleeved shirt. Red, with thin navy stripes. Not exactly punk rock, but a definite departure from pink cashmere and pearls. She left her hair down on a whim, pinning one side back away from her face, but that was it. She just coaxed a couple soft waves out of the tresses, then called it good. She grabbed her binder and her sketch pad, then took off.
“Wow, Lauren,” she sighed when she walked into the building. “This place is gorgeous.”
Lauren, the bride-to-be, hurried forward to take Katya's hands in her own.
“Isn't it!? I can't believe I'm having my reception here. I never, in a million years, would've imagined myself here.”
Lauren was a very special person. She was in her mid-forties with four children of varying ages. She'd lost her first husband to cancer when the youngest kid had been a newborn, but nothing kept Lauren down. She'd rallied, gotten a second job, then took night classes so she could become a vet tech. She was fun loving and had a big laugh, forcing everyone around her to be in a good mood.
Including, it turned out, the vet at the first clinic she interned for – “San Francisco's best vet”, as he was hailed by multiple news sources who cared about that kind of thing. The man had more money than he knew what to do with, so he'd decided to share it all with Lauren and her kids, whom he'd taken into his home like they were his own.
So if anyone deserved a huge wedding and a reception hall that probably cost more to rent than one of Katya's paychecks, it was most definitely Lauren. They'd clicked instantly, from the first time she'd come into the bakery, a year and a half before – she'd seen a magazine featuring one of Katya's designs. One picture, and she'd just known that's who needed to make the cake on her special day.
“It's beautiful, Lauren, I'm so happy for you. And I'm super excited about this cake!”
Katya had brought a rolling trolley with her. It was filled with samples. Lauren was working in a medical clinic and getting away was hard, so they'd agreed to do the tasting and designing at the reception hall, a halfway point between their two jobs.
“And I'm super hungry. I'll eat, you look around, and then we can talk about my design.”
Katya set up the samples on a high table, then left her client to eat while she walked around the building. She made notes as she went, poking around the kitchen area. Lauren wanted a massive cake – the main one would have six layers, and then there would be two satellite cakes, each with four layers. The layers were all four inches thick. It was a monster and Katya wanted to make sure it could be safely delivered to the hall, or else she'd have to assemble and decorate it there in the morning, which she really didn't want to do.
Luckily, there were huge loading doors that opened directly into the kitchen, and then double doors could be propped open leading into the hall. She could bring the cakes all in one piece, load them onto carts, then wheel them onto the floor. Easy peezy.
“Looks good, Lauren. This is a great space,” Katya said, jotting down notes as she hurried across the huge ballroom.
“I told you! Did you see the chandelier? And those stairs in the lobby?” the other woman squealed. Katya nodded, trying to remember the measurements for the cake. While she flipped through her notes, she heard the doors at the front of the room open. She glanced up, then returned to her notepad as a group of men and two women walked into the room. Another party wanting to look over their rental space.
“Yeah, it's amazing. I'm excited – I've never seen a wedding here,” she said, sliding onto a stool and putting down her pad.
“Oh, well, you'll see mine here,” Lauren said around a mouthful of red velvet. “You'll love it. Champagne fountain, sprays of lilies and hyacinth everywhere. And white. Head to toe white. I'll be in white, my bridesmaids will be in white, you'll be in white – I cannot wait.”