She placed a cardboard circle on the spinner, then started stacking the super-thin layers of cake on it one at a time, adding a layer of banana frosting between each one until the cake was seven layers tall. The sides and topping were her Zen moment. She’d been doing these cakes for so long that sometimes she didn’t even remember frosting them. She added dollops of fluffy whipped frosting, which did double-duty as decoration and size indicators for the girls next door to slice, making sure no customer was short-changed. That had been Dad’s idea—a good one. She finished off the cake with good old-fashioned vanilla wafers.

Kelly then put together the chocolate and red velvet cakes, and she was done with her morning routine before it was even morning.

She moved all the finished cakes to the glass top cart to take them to the cafe. The antique cart was from the early 1900s. She and Dad had found it while they’d been at a restaurant auction in South Carolina a couple of years ago.

Her parents were always so supportive. She hated having to lie to them about the contest. They’d understand when they found out, but it still made her feel horrible. She’d tell them first thing in the morning.

She drove home, wondering what kind of crazy life warp she was in where Andrew showed back up, she was selected to be on a cooking show, and she was planning to lie to her parents.

What could possibly happen next?

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

When Kelly’s alarm went off, Gray was already snorting and shuffling around in the mudroom.

“Good morning,” she said over the Dutch door. Gray pranced on the terrazzo tile like a tap dancer that needed practice. She went inside and petted him on the nose. “Are you ready for a walk this morning?”

He spun around.

“Looks like a yes to me.” She grabbed his harness from next to the door.

He knew exactly what was going to happen next. He sat and waited patiently for her to put his black-and-white checkered harness on him. She straightened the hot-pink sequined bow tie around his neck, which had been a joke from her girlfriends who’d wanted her to make Gray the logo of her bakery. As much as she loved that pig, that wasn’t the look she was going for.

They’d also given her a blinged pooper-scooper, but the joke was on them, because she loved that pooper-scooper and didn’t mind carrying the flashy thing around. She led Gray out the front door. They walked around the neighborhood, tossing the newspapers closer to the house where little Johnny had gotten a sloppy arm and not made it past the sidewalk. Which was often.