Nevara
The moment the cupcake plan was settled, Elena was already typing.
My mother had another notebook open.
The pastry chef had disappeared into an animated discussion with two of his assistants about frosting stability and transport.
Somewhere behind me, Salas was quietly informing someone over the phone that the wedding had apparently just become significantly larger than anyone had anticipated.
The room no longer needed me.
Which meant…
I looked at Drake.
He looked back at me.
He dusted imaginary crumbs from his hands before rubbing them together like a man preparing for serious business.
“So.”
I tilted my head.
“So?”
“What’s next?”
I laughed.
“Next?”
“For the wedding.”
He gestured broadly toward the dining room.
“We solved dessert.”
He nodded once.
“What’s the ne
