Chapter 16 Cookies and Chaos
Press Release from the Ashford Family. My phone lit up from the notification.
A small sigh escaped my lips as I scanned through the official statement, stamped and sealed by Grandmother.
As expected, they had denied any connection to the woman in the photo, then apologized for my actions, calling it unruly and childish.
But that was the least of my concern. All I could think of was the look on Father's face when he confirmed that my mother was dead. The hesitation and guilt in every word was too much to have gone unnoticed.
What could they be hiding? My mind wondered, refusing to settle. I needed to clear my head.
My ride was almost at its destination, when I asked the driver to turn around. "Take me to the Lower East Side, Gâteau Celeste."
When I arrived, the entrance was miraculously clear. There was no crowd pressing against the doors, no chaos of cameras flashing in my face. Then I saw them across the street, agitated, frustrated.
"Are they... stalking from across the street now?" I whispered to Denise as I entered the shop.
She rolled her eyes. "Ten feet away, ma'am. New owners' rule. They don't get any closer." I blinked at the tiny patch of sidewalk between the building and them. Somehow, it felt like victory.
Inside, only five, six customers had come in, but I felt a little bit of relief, they were better than nothing. Soft murmurs and hushed whispers followed me as I walked past, keeping a practiced smile on my face until I reached my office and closed the door behind me.
Denise came in almost immediately. "Ma'am, are you okay?" she asked in a concerned tone.
I didn't respond until I was seated at my desk.
"I'm fine." A lie.
Denise didn't push, but she didn't let it slide either. "There's no way anyone would be fine after those posts... Don't worry. We'll get through this."
It wasn't just the words. It was the way she lingered nearby, the small, silent ways she made sure I was okay, the way she seemed to notice everything without me saying a thing. Her optimism wasn't loud or flashy, it was steady and quiet. And in that moment, I realized she wasn't just a friend.
"From now on, Denise, call me Celeste," I said, a warm smile tugging at my lips. "And... thank you for that dress."
Her face lit up with a bright, joyful smile that looked like she'd been waiting for this moment forever. "Alright... Celeste," she said, almost squealing.
"Now, I need to bake, it's been a long while since I did that." I pushed myself to my feet, brushing imaginary dust off my hands.
Denise gave me a look sharp enough to cut glass. "Celeste... don't. You'll ruin whatever you're baking if you're in this mood."
I turned to her with a smile. "That's exactly why I need to do it, Denise. Baking calms me. Besides..." I paused, gesturing vaguely to the empty countertop. "Lucien and I didn't have a wedding cake... What baker doesn't have a wedding cake?"
Also, this was my attempt at an apology.
Denise groaned, but I could see her resisting a smile. "Fine," she said finally. "Bake your cake, but-"
"But I'll make cookies at home after, don't worry." I cut her off with a wink and started assembling ingredients, my mind already focusing on sugar, chocolate, and butter, not press releases and humiliation.
Soon, the oven hummed and warmth filled the shop. I leaned against the counter, letting the scent of vanilla and cocoa fill my senses. Just as I exhaled, letting a rare moment of peace settle over me, the shop bell rang.
Denise stiffened first, eyes wide. "Oh. My. God."
I followed her gaze and saw him, a tall, handsome stranger, casually confident, like he belonged in a magazine rather than a cake shop. Denise's jaw practically hit the floor.
"Are you okay, Denise?" I asked, amused, brushing flour off my hands.
She blinked, flustered, and quickly turned away. "I... I'm fine," she said, though the way she stared at him betrayed everything.
"Good afternoon," he began smoothly. "David Hayes. Event planner and coordinator." He extended his hand and then dropped a business card onto the counter.
I picked it up. "Celeste Ashford," I replied calmly. "Welcome to Gâteau Celeste."
He smiled, one that made Denise gasp from behind. "Thank you. I hear you're the best at what you do."
I tilted my head slightly, a small smirk forming. "Well, we'll see about that."
Since I sensed the charge between Denise and Mr. Hayes, I let her handle his order while I returned to the penthouse to bake cookies.
The cake sat on the table, smooth and white, intricately decorated with fondant icing, while I placed the last batch of cookies on the kitchen counter. The scent was warm and sweet, filling the entire place. Now, everything was almost perfect. If this didn't melt him a little, then he was either a monster or a jerk.
Just then, the door clicked open, and he entered.
A small smile spread on my face as I waited for him to come find me in the kitchen. In my head, I had casually imagined the moment, I would spread my hands in the air and scream, surprise! Then what?
Finally, he entered. "Hey, Lucien! I... I baked cookies, and a cake," I said with a nervous smile. This wasn't the plan. "I thought, well, you know, since I bake, we should at least have a wedding cake."
For a moment, I thought he'd nod, acknowledge me or at least say something. But then his expression darkened, sharpening his hard features.
My smile faltered, and before I could think, his hands shot up, hauling the tray of cookies across the counter. I stumbled backward, as my hands struggled, trying to catch the tray, but it hit the floor with a crash. A chill ran down my spine as I watched the cookies scatter everywhere.
"Lucien, what-" I began, but he didn't answer. Instead, his jaw clenched, and suddenly his hands flew to his head. He staggered back, eyes wide and disorientated, like he was trying to escape something only him could see.
I blinked in confusion. "What...what's wrong?"
He didn't respond, but his movements were erratic and unsteady. One step, then another, until he disappeared into a bedroom.
I hesitated for a second, then followed, trying to keep my voice calm. "Lucien, wait, please, let me help-"
The moment I crossed the threshold, he turned sharply, wild-eyed, his voice slicing through the air like a sharp blade. "Get out!" Then held his head in his hands as if to pull it off.
My heart pounded, fear clawing at me, but I forced myself forward. I stepped closer, ignoring his warning, determined to reach him.
Before I could think, he swung a nearby vase at me, screaming, "I SAID GET OUT!" I ducked just in time, and it smashed against the wall behind me with a loud, shattering crash, shards flying everywhere.
We froze. His chest rose and fell, eyes dark and frantic. While I stayed crouched, heart racing, thinking only:
I almost died.