Page 282 of A Taste of Vanilla

“Oh. Yeah, it is.”

Oliver looks at me like I’ve committed the worst crime.

He grins. “Cool. I’ll take two boxes.”

Marley catches it all on video.

The Vipers show up in waves. Not the whole team. Not many of the stars. But enough to help. They are large, loud, hungry, and polite in the specific way players on a young team are when they know a camera may appear at any second. They’re rich, so they buy everything. They take photos of everything.

One asks Lisa detailed questions about the jam used in The Receipt and looks genuinely moved when she explains the ingredients.

Oliver complains the whole time, but then unveils three game-night cocktails at Saints & Sinners.

The Bitter End Zone, which he named just to piss them off.

The No Vipers Allowed.

And finally, the No Sports, Just Revenue.

And then things start to change.

The bakery is still moving. Orders and laughter and espresso. The bell over the door.

Beneath it all, I can feel the pressure ease now that the truth is out there. I’ve taken my final swing.

I grip the edge of the pastry case.

Marley’s gaze flies across the screen. “Initial response is strong.”

Oliver freezes. “What kind of strong?”

“Shares and comments. People asking why the family connection wasn’t disclosed. Local food accounts are repostingthe statement. Someone tagged the paper he works for demanding answers.”

My stomach flips.

Lisa murmurs, “Good.”

A woman at the counter glances from her phone to me. She looks like she’s debating saying something, and I brace.

“I just want to say that was brave,” she says. “Professional. I’m sorry they did that to you.”

My heart races.

She lifts the cookie box. “And these are ridiculous and I love them.”

A laugh breaks out of me.

Wet and relieved.

“Thank you so much.”

Someone behind her says, “Same.”

Mrs. Alvarez, who has been flirting with the Vipers in the corner, yells loudly, “Men need to have their internet taken away. They’ve been terrorizing women with their terrible takes for generations.”

The room laughs. But this time it’s with me.

Warren appears at my side with a tray in his hands. He sets them in the case.