If the Sun Never Sets (If Love 2)

Sammy himself had become a quasi-celebrity among the food crowd, with more than a million Instagram followers and a booming YouTube channel where he posted baking tutorials.

Farrah knew he’d encountered major resistance from his family when he ditched his math degree and a NASA career for baking, but Sammy was crushing it.

“Hardly. I’m just a baker, not Mark Zuckerberg.”

“Mark Z. can kiss my ass. You’re much better.”

Sammy cracked a smile. “Thanks. Hey, you want a drink? On me.”

“I got it. Don’t argue,” Farrah warned. “You’re the guest.”

He laughed. “Fine. But I got the next round.”

> “Deal.”

Once they got their drinks, Farrah and Sammy snagged one of the few booths in the bar right after it opened up and caught each other up on their lives. She told Sammy about quitting KBI, her birthday trip to Jamaica, and the time she accidentally crashed a Met Gala afterparty. Sammy told her about his San Francisco exploits and the ups and downs of running a famous bakery—including hundreds of propositions and NSFW (Not Safe For Work) images from rabid, sugar-crazed fans.

“Must be tough.” Farrah laughed when Sammy punched her in the arm.

“It’s all fun and games until you accidentally open one of the pictures in front of your three-year-old niece,” Sammy grumbled. “My sister nearly impaled me with her nail file. Besides, I don’t like the attention. I just want to bake my croissants in peace. I don’t know how Kris deals with this shit.”

“Too late now. You’re a star, baby,” Farrah sang. “Kris deals with it because she’s Kris. She’ll clock any paparazzi that comes too close.”

“True.”

Kris Carrera, another friend from study abroad, was engaged to Nate Reynolds, one of Hollywood’s hottest stars and a paparazzi favorite.

“Have you kept in touch with anyone else from FEA?” Farrah stirred her drink, now watered down from the ice.

“Pretty much everyone in the group except for—” Sammy stopped short.

Olivia.

The name hung in the air, unspoken, like a guillotine waiting to drop.

Farrah felt a pang in her heart. There’d been a time when Sammy and Olivia were the couple. Their relationship made it out of FEA intact—the only one in their group to do so—only to implode a few months later. Farrah had been in New York with them, but even now, she wasn’t sure what happened. Sammy and Olivia refused to talk about it.

How could two people go from being so in love to hating each other’s guts so quickly?

Then again, Farrah of all people knew how much things could change in the space of minutes.

“Have you kept in touch with Blake?” The question fell out, unbidden.

Sammy’s eyes flickered with surprise. “Yeah, a little. Why?”

“Well…” Farrah debated whether to tell him about her new project. She didn’t want discussion of Blake to hijack the night, but she needed a sounding board beyond Olivia, and there weren’t many people who knew what had happened between her and Blake in Shanghai. “I’m kind of, um, working for him.”

“What?”

Farrah filled Sammy in on the details.

“Wow.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “What are the odds?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m over him,” Farrah said quickly. “It’s been five years. It’s just weird.”

“Mmhmm.” Sammy surveyed her with a shrewd eye. “You’re sure you’re over him?”

Pretty sure.