Twenty minutes later, I’ve recorded, edited, and issued statements on all my social media platforms in record time. Now I’m covered in flour and baking sugar cookies while I make red and pink, and white royal icing. What I can’t say in words, I’ve always been able to communicate with food. I hope the skill doesn’t fail me now.
Chapter Five
Matilda
I can feel eyes on me as I keep a smile fixed to my lips behind the table covered with red and white gingham tablecloths. There’s a line formed in front of me, but what people are looking for is gossip, not cookies for seventy-five cents a pop.
“Is it true you’re dating Anders Rivera?” a woman asks.
“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear on the internet. People love to gossip and speculate.” Right now, I don’t know what’s going on with us. So, I couldn’t answer her honestly if I wanted to.
“Oh.” The plump blonde’s face falls, and her shoulders slump. “I was rooting for you. He’s quite a catch, and easy on the eyes, too.”
I nod. “That he is.” Its torture being forced to talk about the one person I want to forget exists. I don’t understand how I ended up in the same situation, betrayed by a man I trusted and cared for. I was falling in love with the man I thought Anders was—devoted to his family, funny, and passionate about cooking. He had a sweetness to him that I couldn’t resist. Even after he got under my skin and challenged me with his words and different beliefs. I thought maybe we could make things work despite our opposite onions. Stupid.
A petite, curly-haired brunette steps up with a slender girl who could only be her daughter.
“My daughter, Makayla, and I just loved your series with the Cookie King. Can we get a picture for you? We had the Royal S’mores. They were delicious, by the way. We’re really hoping you bring the trophy home.”
“Thank you so much. Of course you can.”
“We’ll take five cookies for holding up your line.” She grins, revealing a dimple in her right cheek. If nothing else, the show seemed to really empower a lot of women. That, I can get behind. I take their money, hand over the cookies, then lean forward and smile as they arrange themselves to my left and right to take the shot. I can’t help but feel they put Brittany’s table directly across from mine on purpose. Never underestimate the small-town love for drama and competition. I can feel her mean mugging me from across the way.
I’m glad I spent so much time in the kitchen. I was trying to work out frustrations, but the way the cookies are going like hotcakes, I’m going to need every last one of them. I continue to pedal cookies, making small talk, and answering questions. I’m feeling better about the choice to take the lessons. We all need to see someone not afraid to fail. It reminds us that perfection is not a part of the human experience, and failing is a step on the journey to learning. If I got nothing else from Anders, I could take that with me.
“Have you seen this?”
I look up from my transaction to see a frantic, red-faced Jordan in front of me.
“See what?”
She waves her glittery, gold-cased phone in front of me.
“I can’t read it when you’re waving it. Here you are, ma’am, two dollars even. Thank you again for stopping by.”
“I’m sorry to cut, but love is on the line,” Jordan says, squeezing in front of the tall blonde staring at her open-mouthed.
“What are you talking about?”
“Look at what your man did for you.” She thrusts the phone into my hand, and I press play on the video.
“Today, I was supposed to post the final installation of Baking Redemption with Matilda, who you know as the Cookie Queen in Training. But I find myself unable to do that. She was hurt by speculation about us and a picture taken without her permission of a very important person in her life. I signed up for this. I love teaching you how to bake, hearing your stories, and being allowed to come onto your screens with my new content. That being said, she deserves your respect when it comes to her privacy. She chose to share pieces of her life with you because she’s an amazing woman who wanted to make her daughter proud. That’s admirable. Whoever it was that leaked the information, you should be ashamed of yourself. Today, I’m questioning if I want to be a part of this community at all. Matilda, I’m sorry this happened.” The screen fades to black.
“Oh. My. God.”
“Are you still confused about if he did this or not? His statements on social media say basically the same thing.”
“He can’t stop! He loves what he does.”
“Not more than he does you,” Jordan whispers.
“God. I screwed this up.”
Whispers go up around us. Jordan smiles. “I don’t think you did.”
“Tilly.”
The familiar tenor makes me gasp. The crowd parts. I watch as he approaches me with a tray of heart-shaped sugar cookies ranging in frosting from bright red to blush pink. I’m sorry. You own my heart. The messages blur as my eyes well up.