Page 42 of Never Not Friends

And we both know it.

The one time, all those years ago, that I actually pushed back against her wishes didn’t even work. She still got Vinny.

A sad sigh slips out as I type my reply.

Emma:

Yeah, I’m free.

Juliet:

You’re a lifesaver. I’ll send you the address to the bakery.

Vinny holds the bakery door open for me. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

You’re telling me.

“I’m only here because Juliet begged.”

“I was teasing.” He laughs. “You know, it’s a good thing you came.”

“Why is that?” I breeze past him, working hard so that we don’t touch at all.

“Maybe we can pick out a joint birthday cake while we’re here.”

“I don’t think this is that type of bakery.” I glance around. There are tables, and it smells like a bakery, but there’s no display case with birthday-cake energy. No cash register. No menu. “It’s probably the kind of bakery that makes wedding cakes only.”

Vinny frowns. “Birthday cake, wedding cake—it’s the same thing.”

Birthday cake is innocent and socially acceptable. Wedding cake is commitment. Tiers. Expectations. Forever wrapped in fondant.

Not the same.

Not even close.

Before I can argue further, a woman appears from the back—mid-forties, bright smile, the kind that feels like she’s about to sweep you into something crazy, whether you’re ready or not.

“I’m Lucille, the owner of Forever Cakes.”

See? Even the name of the bakery screams wedding cakes.

“You must be Juliet,” she says, beaming at me.

I blink. “Oh, no, I’m the maid of honor.”

“I’m honored you’re here too.” Lucille claps her hands together, delighted. “What a cute couple you make. You two have that glow.”

Glow?

“No.” I shake my head, trying again. “My name’s Emma.”

“Oh, I thought it was Juliet.” Lucille laughs. “I must’ve written it down wrong.”

Vinny snickers beside me.

“No, Juliet is the bride.”

Lucille frowns like this level of confusion is too much for her. “Did I double book two appointments at the same time?” She looks down at her notepad, talking fast. “Emma…and what’s the groom’s name? When’s your wedding?” She grabs her glasses from her apron pocket, wrestling them out. “I can’t read anything these days. I think I’m losing my mind. I’m so sorry about the mix-up.”