Fake It Til You Bake It by Emily Cyr

Author:Emily Cyr [Cyr, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-04T16:00:00+00:00

11

Emery St. James

“How many?” I asked Hannah.

Whipping a frosting-coated hand across her brow, she huffed, “Like a million dozen. However many dozen it takes to equal five hundred.”

We shared a look and in unison, as though we’d had some kind of mental conversation, we both plopped our asses on the floor.

“I’ve baked a lot of orders. But I’ve never made that many fuckin’ cupcakes. Like ever!” I laughed, nearly out of breath.

“Who invites five hundred people to a gender reveal party?” Hannah asked, not for the first time.

“Moreover, why not just make a damn cake!?” I added. “Fuck a duck, what time is it?”

“Late-a-clock.” She grimaced as she dug into her pocket to retrieve her phone. Clicking it on, she groaned. “Oh damn, it’s just after eleven thirty.”

“Ughhhhh,” I whined. We still had to clean up and package everything. These babies were going out tomorrow and I was finally going to be able to have a day off.

The bell on the front door tinkled from someone jostling it, but it didn’t open, as it was locked.

Hannah looked at me with a panicked look on her face. We’d never had a break-in, but that didn’t stop me from having a few cameras installed.

It was my turn to retrieve my phone. I flipped to the app and peered down at the screen.

“Oh, good lord, no,” I moaned.

“What? Who is it? Should I get a knife?!” She was running to the table before I could stop her.

“Wait, no! Not that, it’s Franklin. And he’s dressed up.”

“Oh, god no!”

Yeah, my thoughts exactly.

The last thing I wanted to do was go out to the gay bar with him. I just wasn’t up for it. I was up for my damn bed.

“How about we just duck out the back and pretend we didn’t see him?” Hannah suggested. Oh, she was so cute when she was innocent.

“He will hunt us down. He will find us.”

Her eyes went wide and her mouth hung open slightly. “Fuck, is he a spy or something?”

“No, worse. He’s gay. Really, really gay.”

That caused Hannah to burst out in snorts of laughter, as I’d intended.

Sighing, I got up and walked to the door. I gave Franklin my best “eat shit and die” grin. He shot me one back then flicked me off. Finally, after what I felt like was a substantial amount of time, i.e. after one verse of him singing, “Bitch better have my money,” I let him in.

“Hi, Franklin, listen, I … ”

He held up a hand, cutting me off. “I’m gonna stop you right there. First, I know.” He put a hand on his hip, raised his already effeminate voice, and waved his hand around as though the son of a bitch was on fire. “I want to go home,” he mocked. “I want to sleep my youth away.”

“Okay, okay. I get it. Fine, but no gay bars. I just can’t deal with that amount of drama. Oh, and I’m NOT being the DD,” I acquiesced as I mirrored his defiant stance.

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