“It’s not you; it’s him. It’s obvious he has something going on with Larkin, plus my mom told me she and Dad caught Ford and Larkin together, naked, in the living room.” Something I never thought I would say out loud, especially since Ford is so stiff, so . . . professional all the time.
“Really?” Nora asks, eyes wide open. “Oooh, tell me more about that.”
“Not until you tell me about the cake.”
She rolls her eyes and reaches out to touch my hand. “I’m not sure you’re ready to hear this kind of information. You seem fragile.”
“Nora,” I grit out.
“Fine, but I warned you.” She takes a deep breath. “Your brother called and asked me to bring some sample cake slices to the island.”
“You let him test your cake?” I nearly shout, attracting a few stares. Quieting down, I repeat, “You let him test your cake? I haven’t even tested your cake.”
“Technically, you have.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
“I’m being serious, Nora. Please tell me you didn’t let him test the butterscotch. Please.”
She winces. “He wanted to know what it tasted like.”
I slap the table. “God damn it.” I point a finger at her. “You know how important that cake is to me. Let me guess: he didn’t like it.”
“It was not the one he chose.” The corner of her lips pulls up, and I know she’s getting too much joy out of this.
“If you tell me he chose lavender, I’m going to scream, right here in this restaurant. I’m going to scream like a goddamn girl.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat? Because I feel like you should know by now that’s something I would love to watch you do.”
“Just tell me, is it lavender?”
She pauses and studies me for a few breaths before shaking her head. “He was a fan of the chocolate raspberry.”
“Ugh, of course he was.” I give her a stern look. “Were you even going to tell me about this meetup?”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
I grip the edge of the table. “So, you’re telling me that you weren’t going to clue me in to your secret meeting with my brother, where you talked about changing the cake that I specifically told you not to change?”
“Correct. I was not going to tell you.”
“And what were you going to write on the order form?”
She smirks. “What do you think?”
“If you want a good night kiss, it better be butterscotch.”
She chuckles and brings her water glass to her lips. “Well, pucker up, handsome.”
“Damn right,” I say, satisfied.
She shakes her head, an amused glint in her eyes. “There is something wrong with the three of you.”
“Possibly,” I answer, picking up my menu again. “But at least we’re going to have butterscotch cake.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
FORD
TO: Ford Chance, Palmer Chance
FROM: Cooper Chance
SUBJECT: STOP CHANGING THE DAMN CAKE
^^^^ Read that, multiple times. Just STOP!
TO: Cooper Chance, Ford Chance
FROM: Palmer Chance
SUBJECT: Re: STOP CHANGING THE DAMN CAKE
Did you change it back to butterscotch? Cooper, do you even have tastebuds at all? Frankly, I’m concerned that you’re in charge of decorations. All I can envision is the birthday party Dwight and Jim from The Office put together with half blown up balloons and a printed-out birthday sign.
TO: Palmer Chance, Ford Chance
FROM: Cooper Chance
SUBJECT: Re: STOP CHANGING THE DAMN CAKE
Ford was the one who changed the cake this time. Bro doesn’t know how to stay in his own lane apparently. And no need to worry about the decorations. There won’t be any.
TO: Cooper Chance, Ford Chance
FROM: Palmer Chance
SUBJECT: Re: STOP CHANGING THE DAMN CAKE
WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE WILL BE NO DECORATIONS?? Are you insane? There have to be decorations. How else will people know it’s a party? Honestly, why did we think you could be in charge of this? Clearly you don’t care.
TO: Palmer Chance, Ford Chance
FROM: Cooper Chance
SUBJECT: Re: STOP CHANGING THE DAMN CAKE
Decorations are a detriment to the earth and a waste of resources. They’re used for a few hours and then discarded where they rot in a landfill for years.
And people will know it’s a party because there will be food there, unless . . . have you dropped the ball on that?
Mom and Dad said they would like sandwiches from the deli. I was thinking about picking up some of those chips they like too.
TO: Cooper Chance, Ford Chance
FROM: Palmer Chance
SUBJECT: Re: STOP CHANGING THE DAMN CAKE
Over my DEAD body will be serving GD sandwiches. I have a conversation with a local caterer today. Do not touch the food. Talk about staying in your lane . . . bro. And what about the gift? Have we figured that out yet? I was thinking a commemorative vase. But we only have a few days left, so not sure.
TO: Palmer Chance, Ford Chance
FROM: Cooper Chance
SUBJECT: Isn’t the party the gift?
TO: Cooper Chance, Ford Chance
FROM: Palmer Chance
SUBJECT: Re: Isn’t the party the gift?
I would suggest pulling back on your attempts to annoy me. I know things about you, Cooper, things you don’t think I know. But I do know. I know . . . things.
TO: Palmer Chance, Ford Chance
FROM: Cooper Chance
SUBJECT: Sure you do
TO: Palmer Chance, Cooper Chance
FROM: Ford Chance
Subject: Re: Sure you do
Can we not argue? We have a few days left of planning this thing. How about this, everyone show up with their assigned tasks and be done with it. No talking, no discussing.
Palmer, get whatever gift you want, we will give you money.
I have more important things to do than read your bickering emails.
Show up at the party with a smile on your face, and then we can all part.
TO: Palmer Chance, Ford Chance
FROM: Cooper Chance
SUBJECT: Re: Sure you do
Finally, someone speaking some sense.
And stop changing the goddamn cake.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
FORD
“We’re almost there. How are your heels holding out?” Larkin asks, pushing a branch to the side as we finish the “short” hike she planned for us.
“Pretty sure there are pools of blood in my brand-new hiking boots.”
“But your whistle’s still intact,” Larkin teases.
I toot on my whistle, which is supposed to scare away wildlife. “So, when I’m bloody carnage, unable to move, thanks to these shoes, at least I’ll have my whistle to ward off predators. Told you it wasn’t a stupid purchase.”
“You’re right—thank God for the whistle.” She looks back at me and chuckles. “You’ve never looked more attractive in my eyes.”
I pause and stand up straight. “What did I tell you? No making fun of me.”
“You borrowed your assistant’s pink hat because the sun was too bright on your eyes.”