Page 49 of Wish For Me

CeCe:Are you insane? It’s the middle of the night!

Vega:Technically it’s very early in the morning.

CeCe:It’s pitch dark out! Please tell me you didn’t drive all the way to town by yourself in the middle of the night, while it’s snowing.

Vega:Stop being a drama queen, it wasn’t snowing.

CeCe:THE CAKE IS FINE

Vega:I had the worst nightmare that the whole thing crashed to the ground. I have to check on it.

Vega:Besides, I think it needs some more pansies. There are too many roses, the whole thing looks off-balanced.

CeCe:The wedding is in thirteen hours. You need to stop adding things to that cake. Come home.

Vega:Half an hour. Promise.

CeCe:Fine. But I just want you to remember one thing.

CeCe:Your sister is getting married today. I know you want the cake to be perfect. But she’s going to love it, however it turns out, because you made it for her. The thing Everly really needs today is for you to be here with her. Help her get ready. Take pictures. Just be with her. Okay?

Vega:You’re right.

Vega:I’m just stressing.

Vega:She deserves a perfect cake, though! It needs to be a perfect cake.

Vega:But you’re right.

Vega:Half an hour.

CeCe:Girl I will come after you if you’re not home soon. And I will not be happy.

TEN

VEGA

I tighten the scarf around my neck, not at all looking forward to climbing out of my car into the freezing winter night. I wasn’t made for this kind of weather—give me California sunshine any day.

At least it’s supposed to be slightly warmer today than it has been all week. We’ve all been working pretty much nonstop to get the wedding organized, and running around town and doing set-up in frigid temperatures hasn’t been my favorite thing. Luckily, I’ve spent a good chunk of that time holed up in the commercial kitchen at a local hotel working on the cake.

The same local hotel I’m sitting outside of at four-thirty in the morning, being a total psycho. But I’m here now, so there’s nothing to do but brave the cold. I hurry across the dark parking lot toward the promised warmth of the hotel. Inside, I give a sheepish wave to Clark, the guy manning the desk. “Back again?” He asks, grinning at me knowingly over his ever-present comic book.

“If anyone asks, I was never here.”

He mimes zipping his mouth shut and goes back to his comic. I make my way past the lobby and through the maze of hallways leading back to the commercial kitchen. My dad rented out most of this hotel for the wedding guests and for the caterer to do prep work. A sizable bonus check got me access to the commercial kitchen pretty much whenever I wanted, and I’ve made good use of the time, spending hours here every day since the plans changed.

I use my key to get into the kitchen and hit the lights, heading straight to the walk-in fridge. I let out a sigh of relief at the sight of my cake, right where I left it, top tier mercifully not smushed to the ground the way it was in my dream. “Stupid girl,” I murmur to myself.

But now that I’m here, I might as well give the sugar flowers some attention.

I leave the cake where it is for now and head back into the kitchen, mind occupied with all the things I’m going to need to do. I’m not sure how much royal icing I have left, but making more shouldn’t take too—

“I thought that was you.”

I let out a high-pitched shriek, making Peter Dumont cover his ears and scowl at me. “Jesus, Vega.”

“Me? What about you?” I squeal, placing a hand over my heart. The damn thing feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest. “What are you doing here?”