✿ Aileen's POV

“What do you mean you gave away the birthday cake?” I keep my voice low and calm even though I'm roaring and stomping like a T-Rex in my head.

Angelo had locked himself in the locker room. There was no point freaking him out any further.

“I went to the bathroom and asked him to man the front... for two seconds, Miss Lee, and he... sold it to someone,” Lyra whispers with a tremor in her voice. “It’s gone.”

I breathe through my nose, ten seconds in and fifteen seconds out. Veronica and I had been in the kitchen checking on a batch of gelato when Angelo sold the wrong cake. If not for the worst timing in the world, we could’ve stopped the switcheroo.

The birthday girl’s chocolate Bundt cake looked exactly like the bakery’s special of the week. On the outside. The surprise lay inside—gummy worms, cream cheese, and peanut butter.

I know.

The six-year-old’s logic was if you mix something tasty with something else tasty, it would be twice as tasty. In this case, thrice as tasty.

She and Camari would be great friends.

My pint-size customer wails with renewed grief beyond the kitchen doors.

“Oh God” Lyra exhales.

With a sinking sigh, I leave Lyra behind the locker room door and Angelo in the safety of his hiding place and push through the swinging doors to the shop front.

“Please don’t cry, Abby” I hear Jaime consoling the child.

“Man I wish I could conjure up a rainbow, a unicorn, or a rainbow unicorn that trails cotton candy from its mane. Anything to cheer her up” Silas sighs.

“We’re so sorry, Abby” Veronica says softly.

“B-b-but... that was my... cake.”

Oh God is right.

“I’ll have a new cake delivered to your house in three hours, tops. Will that work?” I ask Abigail’s mom.

“Oh, totally,” she says with an easy smile. “Her birthday party won’t start for another hour, and we’re not serving the cake till the end. Take your time, Lee. I trust you.”

“Thank you,” I mouth to her, then kneel beside Abigail. “I pinkie promise that your cake will be perfect and right on time. I won’t take my eyes off it until it’s safely in your hands.”

“O...o...kay” Her voice wobbles, but she pinches her lips tightly until her tears recede. “Pinkie promise.”

“Good girl” I ruffled the kid’s hair and waves good-bye. “See you soon, Abby.”

Once the door swings closed behind the mother and her hiccupping child, I usher everyone back to work and face my waiting customers.

“Sorry for the wait, guys. Crisis averted. Everything's fine now. We’ll throw in some cupcakes with your orders. Thanks for being so patient.”

I hurry into the kitchen and wrap my apron around my waist, cinching it with a quick flat knot.

“Miss Lee? He's refusing to come out of there” Lyra sighs as she walks through the door.

I groan silently and follow her to go get him.

“Gelo, stop hiding in there. I need you to go help the others take the orders.”

“Is it safe?” he peeked out from the locker room. “I’m so sorry, Miss Lee. I don’t even remember who I gave the cake to.”

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” I say, pushing aside my frustration.

The sad, worried expression on the boy’s normally anxious face makes my heart heavy.

“But you’d better hurry before the customers form an angry mob. They’re raising tiny forks and brandishing birthday candles. Go.”

Angelo lets out a small smile before hurrying out.

“I don’t know how you do it Miss Lee” Lyra chuckles, following him.

With Angelo back to himself, it's time for me to make a six year old happy. Exhaling the tension from my shoulders, I get to work.

The chocolate cake batter moves like silk and glistens when it catches the light. I thin and smoothen the peanut butter and cream cheese filling. By the time I'm drizzling the glaze on the cake, she have seventeen minutes left on the clock. I poked my head through the kitchen doors.

“Lyra, I need to deliver this cake right this second before my pinkie shrivels off.”

“Yeah sure. You know we've got this” she smiles at me.

I trip on my sprint to the car, but she right herself before the cake splatters on the road. Breathing deeply through my nose, I knit the last bits of my patience together and force myself to stay calm. After securing the cake box on the floor of the passenger seat, I slide into my Jeep and speed out of my parking spot.

I can’t breathe properly until I pull into Abby’s driveway with one-and-a-half minutes to spare. My deodorant has failed under pressure, leaving stains the size of dinner plates under my arms, and my top clings to my clammy chest and back.

I lift the cake box with excruciating care as if it hold newly hatched chicks—delicate and precious. My body wants to run, but my brain forces me to walk toward the house. The front door swings open before my knuckles make contact, giving me a split second to hike the cake over my head before the birthday girl launches myself at me.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you. Thank you” Abigail gives me a giant grin, her two missing teeth doubling her cute factor.

The smile and the little arms circling my midriff warms me from head to toe.

“You’re the best cake lady in the world.”

This. I undoubtedly have the best job in the world.

“I would never break a pinkie promise,” I reply, my voice husky with emotion.

“Thank you so much, Lee. Didn't doubt you for a second” Abby’s mom lifts the cake box out of my hands and detaches her daughter from my waist.

“My pleasure. Sorry again about the mix-up.”

I jog back to my Jeep without pausing to savor the moment. I had to get back to the bakery for closing. The adrenaline suddenly drains from me, leaving me limp and tired, and I'm looking forward to a long bubble bath. So I drop by my house to do just that.

The air is nippy for the early-summer evening and the setting sun drenches my house in a blanket of deep coral and whispers of violet as I drive up the street—a scene from a storybook come to life. A dreamy smile spreads across my face and I turn if the ignition before climbing out. When I push through the front door, Bonnie's the first to pop her head out.

“Well this is a surprise” she grins.

I give her a small wave just as my uncle emerges from the living room.

“Hi, Papi. Don't worry. I'm fine. I just need to take a bath before you start seeing noxious, green fumes wafting from my clothes.”

He chuckles and gives me way as I pass. I take my time to walk up the stairs and take even more time in the bath. I put on casual clothes and slip back downstairs.

“Bon? Papi?” I call out.

“You just missed him. I'm in the kitchen.”

“Garage?” I ask as I step into the kitchen.

“As usual” she smiles. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Give me the good stuff, woman” I settle onto a stool and pound my fist on the kitchen island for effect. “Ow.”

“Wuss. You’re an embarrassment to Hispanic badass, bar-pounding women everywhere. Here. I made this earlier” Bonita plunks down a glass of Sangria and narrows her eyes as I gulp down a third of it. “Damn, girl. I’ll take back calling you a wuss; slow down. I don’t want to deliver your drunk ass to your fiancé tonight.”

I chuckle.

“Rough day in sugar land?”

“You could say that. Remember the birthday cake I had to make for the little girl, Abby?”

“Abby’s special-order cake?” Bonita makes a gag face.

Okay. She remembers.

“Well, Angelo gave her cake to the wrong customer, so I baked another one and delivered it to Abby’s house. In the middle of afternoon rush. But you know what the scariest part is?”

“Abby made you stay and eat a slice of the monstrosity?”

“No, it’s even worse. Gelo has no idea who he sold the cake to. It has to be some poor out-of-towner who desperately needed a chocolate Bundt cake. Tragically, they got that cake instead and probably ended up choking on a peanut butter–covered gummy worm.”

“Yeah, that sounds very likely. Get ready to be charged with murder if that doesn't go down well.”

I playfully roll my eyes at her.

“I'll be right back. I'm gonna go give Hank his tea. Don't move. And please don't pour yourself another glass. You know you're a lightweight.”

“Don't worry, I won't. I have to drive myself home, remember?”

She smiles and walks away. I sit in silence, lost in thoughts as I wait for her. When the doorbell suddenly rings, I almost jump out of my seat.

“I'll get it!” I call out, hoping Bonita will hear.

I drag my feet out of the kitchen to answer the door. The moment smooth lines of an expensive looking suit hits my vision when I look through the peephole, I freeze. And then my heart starts racing. But it doesn’t take long for me to smile. I turn the doorknob and look up at him.

“Are you lost?”

He chuckles and pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head.

“I went looking for you at the bakery. I figured you'd be here... and I was right.”

I arch a brow.

“And why would you be looking for me, Mr. Dalton?”

“May I come in first at least?”

I move out of the doorway and he steps in, cedar and sandalwood invading my nostrils. I sigh inaudibly happily as I close the door behind me and wait for him to speak.

“Lee? Who was that— oh Reid!” Bonita pops and chirps when she sees him. “Hello.”

“Evening, Bonita.”

She smiles broadly.

“Feel free to take her away.”

“Not after I finish my drink” I announce, pushing past them into the kitchen.

“I'll leave you two to talk. Nice seeing you, Reid.”

“Likewise” he smiles after her.

I drop a straw into my glass and lean over the kitchen island.

“Well let's hear it then. Why were you looking for me, Armani?” I ask, taking a sip of my drink.

He arches a brow at me.

“Are you day drinking?”

“It's just Sangria. It doesn't count.”

He chuckles.

“Would you like some?”

“No thanks.”

“Your loss” I stand upright before taking a seat. “Why are you here? Do we have plans tonight?”

Wait, did I forget we have plans?

“No, we don't have plans. But I need you to come with me somewhere. It's important.”

I narrow my eyes.

“Where?”

“Just finish your drink and c'mon.”

“And I don't get to know where we're going because...?”

“Lee” His voice is deceptively soft, lacking the edge that usually told me he was frustrated or impatient.

I sigh.

“Fine. But can we do this another time when I don't feel like I've been ran over by a bus... seventeen times?”

“Seventeen is a specific number, Lee. And we can't. I've already made the appointment.”

Appointment?

“What are you up to, Armani? Seriously.”

“Nothing. Now can we please go?”

Unsure as to where we were going, or why, I sigh and snatch up my purse. I let my uncle and Bonita know we're leaving and join Reid who has already stepped outside. He just leans against his car, looking deliciously perfect in his suit and tie. And I had no doubt that neatly trimmed stubble that would probably feel amazing against my—

God, no, no, Lee. Why am I thinking like that?

This fake relationship thing was messing with my head. He holds the car door open for me and waits till I'm seated before getting behind the wheel. Without me asking, he folds back the roof of the car and turns on the radio.

The car ride is so comfortable that when we drive into another building and into the parking garage, I hardly notice. I can’t register where we are—what street or what building this is.

Are we here for dinner?

That's what this whole mystery is about?

Dinner?

When I could have cooked something really nice for us?

Or is it for the paparazzi?

Maybe Anika was going to be there and so he needed us to 'coincidentally' be there as well.

Or maybe it's just going to be the two of us.

I'm so absorbed in my thoughts, I blink in surprise when I realize I'm standing at street level in front of a glass door. Reid opens it and gestures for me to go inside. I step into a world of soft beige and precisely positioned lighting. The room is lined with dark wood cabinets topped by glass display cases.

Well-lit niches in the walls displays sparkling necklaces, rings, and bracelets. The glass cases glitters with diamonds, gold, and platinum. It's not until I catch the name of the store engraved elegantly onto one of the walls that I recognize where we are.

Oh sweet Jesus.

We were standing in one of the best high-end jewelers in the whole of Idaho.

“What are we doing here, Armani?” I whisper, highly uncomfortable.

Which is a silly question because it's obvious what we're doing here.

Reid gently grabs my elbow and leans closer, speaking low into my ear.

“We’re back to being engaged. You need a ring to perfectly complete the part you're playing, remember?”

“Well yeah. But I do have a ring, remember?”

“A ring... not the ring.”

I make a face.

“What?”

“I saw the smug look Anika had on her face when she saw your finger bare.”

“Okay, so I'll wear my old fake ring when we get home. Problem solved.”

“No. That ring made it seem like I would think twice before spending millions on you” he shakes his head. “You're my fiancée. And so we gotta really show them you're mine.”

He doesn't mean it like that. He doesn't mean it like that. He. doesn't. mean. it. like. that!

“Armani, you don’t have to do this” I turn so I can fully meet his eyes. “You know how I feel about you getting me expensive stuff. And we aren’t really engaged and so there’s definitely no need for this much effort. I can wear the old ring just fine.”

His expression is soft as he gazes down at me.

“It’s all right, Lee. I think this way is much better. Plus... I love doing this with you.”

The urge to insist this isn't necessary immediately vanishes and I smile.

He loves doing this with me.

What, being fake engaged? Or picking out fake but real engagement rings with you? My conscience goes.

I'm ready to look away and stop smiling when Reid does a terrible thing. He smiles back. That genuine, beautiful smile that shows his perfect teeth and puckers his light adorable dimples.

Oh God.

It squeezes my heart... hard. And makes my traitorous body light up with little sparks and tingles. I was liking this man. A lot. Far too much for my own good.

And it's going to destroy me.

A woman with curly dark hair wearing a stylish pinstripe pantsuit and deep burgundy lipstick walks over, holding out her hand.

“Mr. Dalton. Welcome.”

Her presence breaks me from my trance.

“This is Lee, my fiancée” Reid’s hand moves from my elbow across my back, to slides around my waist.

I relax into his touch.

“Lovely to meet you, Lee, and congratulations on getting back together. I’m Cilla. If you’ll follow me, please?”

Reid’s hand on the small of my back is comforting as we follow Cilla past the glittering display cases and through a door. I glance back, wondering why we aren’t going to look through their selection. We’d already passed dozens of engagement rings, if not more.

The room we enter is  the same soft beige, but the niches in the walls has some of the most opulent—and no doubt expensive—jewels I’ve ever seen. A dark wood desk sits near the back wall, the shelves behind it decorated with exotic sculptures and a few pieces of jewelry in glass cases.

Reid pulls out a chair for me and we both sit on one side of the desk while Cilla takes the other.

“I have some beautiful options for you” Cilla lifts a black cloth, revealing a variety of diamond rings held in a velvet tray. “We have many more to choose from, so if none of these speak to you, I’ll be happy to show you more. But this should get you started.”

Of course—a private showing.

That’s exactly how Reid Dalton would really do this. Unlike the first time when we walked into the first jewelry shop in sight for just any ring.

I can feel his eyes on me, rather than the rings, as I gaze at the selection. One on the end instantly catches my eye. The band is rose gold, and it's much smaller than the rest, with a center stone surrounded by a halo of little diamonds.

This is it.

“It looks like you’re drawn to this one” Cilla plucks the ring off the tray and holds it up. “Would you like to try it on?”

“Please” I hold up my hand and she slips the ring on my finger.

For a heartbeat, it feels like the stars all align, triumphant music plays in the distance, and a beam of sunlight cuts straight through the building to shine on my outstretched hand. It was perfect. The engagement ring of my dreams.

My heart squeezes again. I would love a ring like this. It's exactly what I’d always envisioned. But I couldn’t use it. I’d ruin it forever if I got fake-engaged with this ring. Not that I thought my someday-fiancé would buy this exact ring. But I was afraid I’d never be able to wear one like it if I wore one now, when this was all just for show.

“Hmm, I don’t know” I quickly take it off and hand it back to Cilla. “Maybe I should try a few more.”

“How about I let you two peruse in private” She rises from her seat. “I’ll come check on you in a little while. In the meantime, if you have any questions, or would like to see something else, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you,” I say, and Reid nods to her.

Cilla leaves and I let out a long exhale.

“Second time doing this and you'd think it wouldn't be so overwhelming.”

“It seemed as if you liked that one” Reid gestures to the ring I’d tried on.

“I don’t just like it. I love it.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

I lower my voice, almost to a whisper, although no one's here.

“I can’t use my dream ring for our fake engagement, Armani. I have a conscience.”

Reid regards me through narrowed eyes for a long moment before speaking.

“Okay then. Do you want to know which one I think we should choose?”

I chuckle.

“I do, actually.”

The ring he picks up from the tray is a simple solitaire—a platinum band with a single setting. But the simplicity ends there. The diamond is enormous.

I don’t think I’d ever seen a diamond so large in person before.

“That?”

“Here” He motions for me to give him my hand, so I let him slide the ring on my finger.

I hold out my hand, fingers splayed, the giant rock glittering. I'm surprised it doesn’t bend the light and cast rainbows all over the room.

“This one?”

“We’ll choose the diamond separately,” he says. “So if you think it should be larger, that’s not a problem at all.”

“Larger? Are you joking, Armani?” I move my hand closer to his face. “I can hardly lift this thing.”

He laughs softly and there goes another heart-squeeze.

“It’s not that big.”

“Yes, it is. How do people function with rings this size? The old one got caught on everything. It was hell.”

“But this is what Reid Dalton would buy his fiancée,” he says, his voice nonchalant. “And it’ll make Anika insane.”

“You evil man” I can’t help but grin at him. “You’re right, this would make her crazy with jealousy. It’s exactly the size even she's not wearing.”

“Exactly.”

I smile and hold up my hand again. Reid takes it and plants a little kiss on the back of my hand.

Oh...

I force myself to make a face but don't snatch my hand away from his hold or wipe the back of my hand on my clothes.

“Gross” I let out, making him laugh.

This was turning out to be so much more complicated than I’d ever thought. And the feelings simmering in my tummy weren’t helping. Yes, I keep trying to tamp them down, to keep them from flaring into an inferno of emotions. But it's a struggle.

Am I catching feelings?

No. Absolutely not, and this ring was proof. It was ostentatious and flashy, and nothing like the real me. A ring as fake as the engagement it represented.

I can still do this. It's going to be fine.

“All right, then. I think this is the one” I exhale, managing to slowly take my hand away from his hold.

He simply nods.

“Perfect. This calls for a celebration.”

Thank you for reading!
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Ciao
~the_atticwriter