chapter #8

I decided to accompany Paul on the cake delivery, as I needed my salary to pay Biddy her rent. “I’ll come with you, but what about my salary? I told you I need it today,” I reminded him.

“You don’t have to remind me. I remember, and that’s why I’m taking you with me to collect the money from the client and pay you. Now, I have to go tell Jarred to load the cake into my van,” he said before instructing me to work the register and serve customers while he went into the kitchen.

As I stood behind the cash register, the aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air. The line of customers seemed never-ending, but I greeted each one with a smile. “Good afternoon, what can I get for you today?” I asked the next customer in line.

“I’ll have a loaf of sourdough and a croissant, please,” she replied.

“Coming right up,” I said as I rang up her order and handed her the change. “Thank you, have a great day!” I said as she left.

“Thanks, you too!” she called over her shoulder as she walked out.

The next customer stepped up, and the routine continued. It was busy, but I loved the hustle and bustle of the bakery - as long as Paul paid me.

As we sold out and the last satisfied customer left the bakery, my eyes darted to the wall clock - it was 5 o’clock. I returned to the kitchen where Paul was waiting for me, grabbed my tote bag, and we headed out through the back door.

Paul’s delivery van was parked across the street, and we made our way over and got in.

“Stassie, can you pass me that clipboard? I need to double-check the address,” Paul said, gesturing towards the glove box.

“Sure thing,” I replied as I retrieved a clipboard and handed it to him. He looked down at it.

“The venue is Glasshouse Chelsea,” he confirmed.

“Great, let’s get going then,” I said as we pulled away from the curb.

Eden Perspective

I stood on the rooftop, gazing at the New York skyline. The city lights shimmered in the distance, illuminating the buildings and streets below with a warm radiance. The sounds of car horns and lively chatter floated up to me, creating a symphony of urban life. As I stood there, lost in thought, Heather came to mind.

" What happened to her last night? I thought she was as excited to see me as I was to see her, but this isn’t how I imagined our first meeting would go. What happened to her?"

I looked at my phone, staring at her beautiful face, and found it hard to believe that she was the same girl who got excited about everything during our calls. We talked for hours about everything.

I let out a heavy sigh and thought, " Did I do something wrong? Is that why she’s acting this way towards me? Maybe… or maybe not."

My thoughts were interrupted by Declan’s voice.

" Eden, what are you doing up here by yourself? I’ve been looking for you."

I quickly put my phone in my pocket and turned around to face him. " Why were you looking for me?" " Don’t you remember? We have to go to Rebecca Whale’s wedding. She personally invited us."

" I don’t want to go anywhere. Apologize to her on my behalf," I said as I poured myself a glass of whiskey. But before I could take a sip, Declan stopped me.

" You’ve had enough to drink already. I think it’s time to call it a night! And are you thinking about Victoria?"

" NO! I am not thinking about Victoria and why would you say that?" I answered him with paranoia.

" Because you drink when it's about Victoria. I am your childhood friend I know you better." he said and took the glass from me, he chug it down.

" In this case, you are absolutely wrong because it's not about Victoria."

" Then, who is this about? would you like to tell me?" he asked me and Declan doesn't know about Heather. I've never told him about her. I was just waiting for the right time.

" Are you not tell me? Since when you are keeping secret from me Eden. You are not going tell your buddy."

" It's not a secret and I will tell you everything but when the right time comes."

" And when will the right time will comes? Tell me about her. Who is she? How you two met? Did I know her?"

I stood there, lost in thought as memories flooded my mind. I remembered how Heather and I first started talking on a dating app. It was right after my breakup with Victoria, and I was feeling depressed and alone. But then I came across Heather’s profile, and something about her caught my eye.

We started chatting, and soon we were talking every day. She had a way of making me feel better, of making me forget about all the pain and heartache. We talked about everything and anything, and I found myself opening up to her in ways I never had before.

As I stood there on the rooftop, thinking about our conversations and the connection we had formed, I couldn’t help but wonder what had gone wrong. Why had our first meeting not gone as planned? What had happened to her?

Declan sank into the outdoor couch and gave me a wary look, as if I was keeping a huge secret that could end the world if I didn’t share it.

“Come on, spill the beans!” He urged me to reveal it, and I knew he was too persistent to give up.

“I’ll tell you everything about her, but first, we have to go to Rebecca’s wedding… Hurry up, Declan, we don’t have much time.”

“I thought you weren’t going to that. Why did you change your mind? Let me guess, because you want to avoid talking about the mystery girl. Right? You can be honest with me. Don’t make excuses.” He said.

“Now you’re just making a big deal out of it. It’s not important right now. We have to go… we’re running late,"

I grabbed Declan’s hand and pulled him pent house. He resisted for a moment, but then followed me.

“Fine, but you owe me an explanation later.” He muttered.

We quickly changed into our formal clothes. I wore a dark navy suit with a crisp white shirt and a matching tie. Declan also changed into a suit, but his was black with a red pocket square. He looked handsome and confident as he adjusted his cufflinks.

Shortly, after we left the penthouse and took the elevator and went down into the parking area. We got into the car and told the chauffeur to take us to the “Glasshouse Chelsea"

Stassie POV

I couldn’t believe this was happening. Of all the days for our van to break down, it had to be today. The day we were supposed to deliver a three-tiered wedding cake to the most prestigious hotel in town. The day I had to impress my boss, Paul, who was riding shotgun with me.

“Are you kidding me?” Paul groaned as the van sputtered and came to a halt on the side of the road. “What’s wrong with this piece of junk?” he said.

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” he said, frantically checking the dashboard. “Maybe it’s the battery, or the fuel, or the engine, or something.”

“Or something? That’s very helpful, thank you,” I snapped. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Hey, it’s me. We have a problem. The van broke down and we’re stuck on Highway 12. Yeah, the cake is fine, for now. But we need to get there ASAP. The wedding starts in an hour. Can you send someone to help us? … What do you mean, everyone is busy? … No, we can’t just call a taxi. Have you seen the size of this cake? It won’t fit in a regular car. … Fine, fine, just do something, okay? Call me back when you have a solution.” He hung up and sighed.

“What did they say?” I asked.

“They said they’ll try to find someone to pick us up, but they’re not sure how long it will take. They’re swamped with orders today.”

“Great. Just great.” I looked at the cake in the back seat, wrapped in plastic and decorated with white roses and pearls. It was a masterpiece, and I had spent hours working on it.