Page 9 of The Lie That Stole Christmas

Mr.Wetherby waved a dismissive hand in the air.“Then help her.Taste every damned version if you have to.You remember it.You’re the key.”

No pressure.

“And Carter?”Mr.Wetherby’s voice turned serious.“Make sure she stays.”

“She, sir?”

“Ashley!”he snapped, then his face softened, and he settled into his high-backed leather chair.“I love all my grandkids, of course, but Ash…”

“She’s the most like Lily,” Carter finished for him.

Tears shimmered in Mr.Wetherby’s eyes, but he blinked them away.“Now on with you.Christmas won’t just appear.Work needs to be done.”

Carter stood from his seat.“Yes, sir.”He bowed and hurried off, heading straight for the kitchen.He followed the scent of ginger and spice.

Destiny, or more lovingly known as Tiny, opened the oven door, taking out a tray of freshly baked gingerbread, spirals of steam rising into the air.Dark curls were piled on top of her head, flour dusting the bridge of her nose and the rich brown of her cheekbones.

She placed the tray on the island, nudging a well-worn copy of A Christmas Carol aside.Carter stopped on the opposite side, hands on the granite top.

“How’s the cake coming along?”Carter asked.

Tiny blew out a frustrated breath, floating the curls off her forehead for a brief moment.“It’s not.”

“Mr.Wetherby himself is requesting it, and it has to be perfect.”

Tiny’s eyes widened, lashes fluttering.“How the hell would you like me to manage that?I have never tasted it, so I have no idea what flavor profile I’m even aiming for.”She threw her dish towel at the counter for emphasis, scattering a cloud of powdered sugar into the air.

“I told you.”Carter leaned in.“It’s dark spice cake.Rum glaze.Rich, dense, almost boozy but not overpowering.There’s a subtle sweetness and something floral at the end.Lily said it was her secret ingredient.”

Tiny huffed.“That’s not helpful, Carter.A bit of floral could be orange blossom, lavender, to freaking rose water.I’ve tried themall, by the way.Baked twenty versions at least, and none of them have been the one.If Mr.Wetherby wants it perfect, he’s going to have to perform a seance and ask his dead wife.”

Carter met her eyes, his gaze softening.“You’re the best baker in the state.You got this.I know you do.”

Tiny worried her bottom lip, looking younger than her twenty-eight years.“Then why do I feel like I’m letting you down?”

“You’re not.It’s just this cake… it matters to a lot of people.I’ll help you.I’ll taste every cake.”

Tiny nodded, determination shining in her eyes.“Deal.”

Carter pointed at Tiny.“I have faith.”

“At least one of us does.”

Carter left Tiny to her baking and took the stairs two at a time.At the landing, he nearly collided with the last person he expected to see hanging out near the staff staircase.Her eyes crashed into his, and she jerked back.

“Seriously?”she muttered.“You again?This house has a hundred rooms, and I still can’t avoid you.”

He’d spent the last twenty minutes replaying every stupid word that had come out of his mouth, telling himself he’d apologize if he got another chance.

“Ash—”

“I smelled gingerbread.”She turned from him toward the kitchen.“After all the excitement of the day, I could use a treat.”

“Tiny can probably help you.”He nodded toward the kitchen, letting the apology die on his tongue.“She’s the best baker I’ve ever met and can whip up anything you’d like.”

Ashley’s brow pinched together.“Tiny?”

“Her name's Destiny, but she’s also five foot nothing, so the nickname fits.Anyway.I can have her make you some of her cookies.She makes a wonderful chocolate chip.”