Chapter Seventeen
The week following The Bake It Show, I spent every free minute working on the anniversary cake for Beck's parents. I wanted to create something he would be proud of and justify his belief in me.
When I ended up piping a layer of fondant on top of another, I knew it was finished and I was just putting off the inevitable. Of admitting it was finished. Of having to show Beck and the prospect that it might not be as good as he expected.
He'd been cool around the office towards me that week, which hurt a little. Then again, I hardly wanted to flaunt what was happening between us. Whatever that might be.
Once the fondant had set, I moved the cake onto the breakfast bar and took a couple of photos. Sent them to Beck asking when he wanted to pick it up. When he replied asking me if I could deliver it to the party with him, I didn't know what to say. Was he inviting me to the party? Clients didn't normally request delivery. But then, Beck wasn't exactly my normal kind of client.
***
Saturday evening—the night of the party—Beck pulled his BMW up outside the biggest hotel in Manchester I'd ever seen. It would look more at home on the pages of a fairy tale book than in the city centre. Once-red bricks faded to terracotta were lit up from old-fashioned wrought iron and glass lamps that hung around the entrance pillars. Turrets on either end of the building, their pointed roofs looming out of the dark sky, windows glowing brightly inside them. Dark blue flags fluttered from their poles fixed on either side of the entrance.
I glanced down at my outfit of plain black trousers and a blue-and-gold striped shirt. Maybe I should have dressed up more, worn a dress even. But I was only the hired help—the caterer. Even if I had shown up with the guest of honours' son. I smoothed down my shirt and then grabbed my handbag from between my feet.
“You look gorgeous. Don't worry.”
Unfastening my seat belt, I glanced over at Beck. How did he do that? Know I was worried when I hadn't said a word. I didn't want to look gorgeous. I'd settle for looking like I belonged there. Why had I agreed to do this? Clients always picked their cakes up from my house—I didn't do personal deliveries. Because I was doing it for Beck, I reminded myself.
He was…I wasn't sure what he was. And wasn't that a great moment—as I sat outside the posh hotel waiting for Beck to escort me inside and meet his parents—for that realisation.
“Thanks.” He reached over the console between the seats and laced our fingers together, giving them a quick squeeze before releasing them.
“Come on. I'll help you get the cake out of the back, and then I'll park up somewhere.”
What? He was leaving me to go in there alone? “You're not coming in with me?” The lazy smile that made my stomach flip spread across his face and revealed his dimples.
“You can wait in the reception area. I'll only be five minutes.”
Dropping my shoulders, I climbed out of the BMW. Beck opened the boot and lifted out the cake. I slammed the door shut and followed him inside.
The reception area was bathed in a golden glow from the numerous chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. All of them ridiculously huge and ornate. My heels clicked across the black marble floor even though I tried to be quiet. Guests wandered around, some dressed in business suits and others obviously tourists with expensive looking cameras hanging from their necks. Beck slid the cake box onto a shiny wooden table surrounded by rich red velvet chairs.
As he straightened, he brushed his lips across my cheek. “I'll be right back.”
He strode back across the marble floor, fitting in perfectly with the expensive surroundings in his charcoal tailored suit. As my gaze wandered around the hotel, the thought that this was a “meet the parents” moment hit me. As those went, at an expensive hotel hosting their wedding anniversary party wasn't the ideal way. I didn't even know if that was what this was. How would Beck introduce me to them? The cake designer? A colleague? Before I could go into full-on panic mode, Beck was back and lifting up the cake box.
“Come on. Let's go set this up before my parents arrive.”
I followed him through the reception area, up a short set of stairs, to a carpeted lounge where I half expected a group of men to be playing cards and smoking cigars in tuxedos. Apart from the whole smoking-inside ban, of course.
Leaning his back against an ornately carved wooden door, he pushed it open to reveal a function room bedecked with balloons, streamers, and a banner strung along one wall that read, Happy Wedding Anniversary Eric and Barbara. I assumed they were Beck's parents as I realised he hadn't told me much of anything about them. Along another wall, tables bulged with cling-film-wrapped buffet food, and I followed Beck as he headed in that direction.
He slid the cake onto a stand in the middle of one of the tables and I opened the box, flattening it out so I could slide it out from beneath the cake. It looked amazing, even if I did say so myself. Two white heart-shaped cakes that interlocked. One chocolate, one fruit. Covered in ivory icing with ivory piping around the edges and a dot of silver in each swirl. I'd topped the piping with a thinner layer in a deep shade of red. Two roses in the same shade of garnet sat at the top and bottom of the hearts and a deep red ribbon tied around each cake finished in a bow at the point of the heart. Between the two roses on each cake I had piped in the same garnet colour the words, We Still Do. A silver love heart decorated the inside of the letter O with the year of their wedding piped within the love heart.
“Wow. The pictures didn't do it justice, Kyle. It's beautiful.”
The use of Beck's real name outside of the office sounded odd. Turning at the compliment to be met by dark brown eyes that shone with warmth. Chin-length choppy brown hair and a smile that reminded me of Beck. She was shorter than my five foot seven but not by much, and she had to be Beck's sister.
Oh, my God. It wasn't just meet the parents; it was meet the whole damn family.
“Kimberly, this is my brat of a sister Alicia. Alicia this is Kimberly. She made that beautiful cake.”
I raised my hand to shake hers but then I thought that seemed a little formal. So I went with an awkward kind of finger wave instead. Smooth, Kimberly. That's the way to impress his family. “Hi. I hope your parents will like it too.”
“Oh, they'll love it. It's perfect.”
“They're here,” someone shouted from across the room.
Beck and his sister started for the doors we'd entered the room through, but I stood rooted to the spot. Then a warm hand wrapped around mine as Beck tugged me along after him. The doors opened to a chorus of happy anniversaries from around the room. And there they were. Beck's parents. Not quite what I had expected.
His dad had the same dark hair, but it was liberally sprinkled with grey at the temples. The same long nose as Beck but his eyes were denim-washed blue. His mum was shorter and plump. Her hair neither quite white nor blonde. The same brown eyes as Beck and his sister. She smiled at Beck and Alicia, little lines fanning out from her eyes and around her mouth.
“You two really outdid yourselves this time. And I can't believe you managed to keep the party a secret.” She playfully slapped Alicia's arm with the back of her hand. “I thought we were coming to dinner.” Her eyes filled up and she dragged Beck into a hug followed by Alicia.
“Mum, Dad, this is Kimberly that I've been telling you about. Kimberly, this is my mum Barbara and Eric, my dad.”
He'd told his parents about me? Warmth spread across my body and then Beck slung an arm around my shoulders pulling me against his side.
“Kimberly, it's lovely to meet you. We've heard so much about you.”
Then she pulled me into her arms, wrapping them around me in a proper hug. Arms tight around my back the way my mum used to hug me. Oh, how I'd missed those hugs from her. When my vision blurred, I closed my eyes. I refused to cry on Beck's mum the first time I met her. But like every other time I thought about my mum, the happy memories were tinged with grief. And confusion and hurt. And a myriad of other emotions. The longing to see her and my dad one more time. For a day or even an hour. Find out why she'd kept the truth from me. I wanted it to be for the best reasons but even then…it wasn't something she should have kept from me, and I was still struggling to understand why she'd done it.
And I really should've let go of Beck's mum, but she rubbed a comforting hand up and down my back. It had been too long since those hugs from my mum. Blinking my eyes clear, I pulled back and tried to give her a smile but my lips were trembling. “It's nice to meet you too.”
Then it was his dad's turn. Enveloped by his strong arms and the smell of his cologne. I sniffed and it reminded me of the Old Spice set I'd bought my dad one year for Christmas. He'd worn it every day after opening it. The first real Christmas present I bought him. Saved up for ages so I could buy both of them presents that year with my own money. He squeezed his arms around me before releasing me. And then Beck slipped his arm around my waist, smiling at me.
“And she made the cake for you,” he said, waving towards the tables. His mum peered around me to see and her hands covered her mouth as she gasped.
“You made that, Kimberly?”
I nodded, feeling ridiculously proud of myself.
“It's amazing…so beautiful. Your parents must be so proud of you.”
Her eyes were watery, and at the mention of my parents, mine were too. I knew they'd be proud of me—of what I had started with the cake business since their death.
Placing a hand on Beck's forearm, she smiled up at him. “We're so proud of Kyle. The things he must do and see—”
“Mum.”
Beck cut her off before she could carry on. She was so sweet. I couldn't imagine the accounts and paperwork he saw every day were that exciting if they were anything like what I dealt with on a daily basis. But it was great she was so proud of him. And embarrassing Beck if the look on his face was anything to go by.
“Shouldn't you go mingle with the other guests?”
Patting his arm, she laughed. “I can take a hint. I'll leave you two alone.”
When they were out of earshot Beck said, “Sorry about them. They're huggers.”
I waved away his words. “It's okay. They're really sweet and clearly love you. I can't believe they've been married thirty-eight years.”
“Yeah, I'm surprised they haven't killed each other yet. But there's still time.” He chuckled. “Do you want to get something to eat?”
“Sure.”
Threading our fingers together, he led me through the crowd of well-wishers. And I couldn't help but think how lucky he was to be surrounded by such a loving family.