“My order for the butcher will need to be in by 10:00 a.m. on Wednesday.”

“Okay. I’ll get them to you before ten.”

“Before nine if I am to have time to review what to order.”

Sheesh. “Right. That makes sense. By nine on Wednesday, then.”

“Very good.” He turned to leave.

“Actually, Gaspard, there’s one more thing we need to discuss.” He crossed his arms and looked back. “Not a big thing,” I continued. “A tiny thing, really. Not a big deal at all.”

He narrowed his eyes. “For the number of times you’ve now said it is not a big deal, I’m beginning to think it is.”

“Remember when I asked you about Joni and her cheesecake?”

He threw his hands into the air. “Ah. I was afraid of this.”

“Just hear me out, okay? Joni is the sister of the bride, the matron of honor, and the maker of what I’ve heard are very delicious, tiny, top-hat-wearing cheesecakes.”

“And she’s bringing them to the wedding.”

“Yes.”

“And I’m supposed to serve them.”

“Yes.”

“Alongside the food I went to a very expensive culinary school to learn how to make myself.”

“Yes?”

“You know, we have a no-outside-food-or-drink policy for a reason.”

“I do know. But just this once, Ida believes we can compromise. It’s important to Joni. It’s an act of love for her sister.”

“An act of love. How sweet. What if her act of love makes somebody sick and the blame gets pinned on me?”

“I thought of that. Which is why we should do something like this.” I turned around and grabbed the tiny sign I’d made minutes before. I read it to Gaspard. “‘Cheesecakes provided with love by Joni Anderson—sister of the bride.’ See? We put this on the table wherever the cheesecakes are being served, and people know they aren’t yours.”

Gaspard grunted. “She is not going to use my kitchen.”

“Absolutely not. The cheesecakes will arrive fully prepared and ready to serve.”

“Do they need to stay cold? How much room do I need to clear in the walk-in? One shelf? Two? Should I clear an entire wall for Joni and her stupid little cheesecake hats?”