One Funeral (No Weddings #2)(62)



I nodded. “Exactly, although theirs were constructed from marble and granite. Mine are made of cake. Not exactly earthquake-proof.”

He gave me his full attention while I spoke, his blue eyes holding my gaze. “Earthquakes in the form of cake cutting. Nothing like cutting into your beautiful monster only to have it crumble apart before your eyes.”

“Yeah, Daniel and I discussed how to best cut it while he helped me build it. It’ll have to be disassembled in a certain sequence to maintain the shape for as long as possible.”

“Those two hires for your shop have been working out really well for you.” He cut another dumpling in two with the side of his fork, then popped the larger piece into his mouth.

I smiled. “Yeah, they are. Hiring help was an excellent suggestion.”

He smirked. “You have a genius advisor.”

Shoving him gently on the shoulder, I laughed. “Ego much?”

Light floral music that had been streaming into the room shifted to another drumbeat rhythm, and the room hushed while the lantern lighting dimmed. Spotlights flared on, lighting up the stage, and the curtains drew back. I leaned into Cade to get a better view around a couple who had scooted far to the left. Cade grabbed under the seat of my chair and dragged me the rest of the way over.

Puppeteers illustrated a story of a royal advisor, Qu Yuan. Accused of being a traitor, he was exiled for suggesting an alliance to strengthen against an enemy state. He continued writing and teaching about his ideas, becoming a great poet. Nearly three decades later, when the enemy state captured his homeland, Qu was so distraught, he flung himself into the Miluo River.

I nudged closer against Cade, absorbing his warmth as miniature wooden dragon boats bobbed from left to right behind blue wooden waves on the front of the stage. The female narrator, who stood beside the stage, told the story in Chinese, alternating with an English translation.

When villagers heard of the tragedy, they raced to the spot in their fishing boats to try and save him. As they searched over a period of days, they tossed zongzi—balls of sticky rice wrapped in bamboo leaves—to feed the fish in hopes of recovering his body. The Dragon Boat Festival, called Duan Wu Jie in Chinese, celebrates the life of Qu Yuan, China’s first known poet.

By the time the show ended, we’d finished dinner. Cade immediately scraped his chair back and grabbed my hand, pulling me up. “I want to see your dragon before a crowd forms.”

“But I haven’t eaten my fortune cookie yet.”

Cade scooped both cookies off the table, bundling them into a cloth napkin. “A treat for later.”

Staying mostly to the walls, we beat most of the crowd to the back of the room. Holding our heads high while nodding to the guests, we bypassed the line and snuck behind the ropes, looking like the official event planners we were, instead of mere party guests.

Sudden movement behind the cake startled me, and I blinked in surprise as Daniel and Chloe approached from the opposite wall. “What are you doing here?”

Daniel held up a cake knife. “We’re here to carve this beauty up to the guests. You didn’t think we would miss this, did you?”

Grinning, Chloe shrugged. “You’ve been talking nonstop about this dragon cake since you hired us. Nothing in the world would’ve stopped us from supporting you on your big day.”

Cade had become enraptured with all the intricate details of the cake. He bent over, examining one of the smaller boats. The carved “wooden” sides were iced in various colors, depicting the same bright colors often painted on the dragon boats used in the festivals.

Curving around the back of the piece, Cade took measured steps, admiring the main dragon, eyes widening. “Wow, Maestro. I remember your experimental dragon section from my first time in your kitchen, but I had no idea you’d transform that idea into something so amazing.”

“Thanks.” I beamed a huge smile, unable to contain my joy at how impressed he was with my work. I’d done the piece for me, because my heart burned to create the vibrant idea in my imagination, but approval from the one person in the world who’d come to mean more to me than any other eclipsed the personal accomplishment.

“Ms. Martin, can we get shots?” A photographer pressed forward, flanked by several others.

“Of course.”

“All four of you would be great.” The photographer motioned to me, Cade, Daniel, and Chloe, and we posed for a couple of shots.

“Now could we have just you, Mr. Michaelson, and Ms. Ling?”

The petite owner, with her hair pinned up and wearing an ornate, blue brocade dress, stepped forward. Three more flashes went off.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like a few more of just Ms. Martin and Mr. Michaelson.” The photographer moved off to the side, stepping closer.

I glanced up at Cade. He and I had never posed for photographs alone. Cade only glanced down with a warm smile and pressed a firm hand to my lower back, stepping closer to me.

A flashbulb went off as we looked at each other. Surprised, we turned to the photographer. A few more photos were snapped in rapid succession.

“Great. Thank you, Mr. Michaelson. We have everything we need.”

Cade led me to the far corner of the room and opened a side door, ushering me through. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“But what about the party? What about your sisters?” A cool breeze danced a lock of hair across my face before blowing it back again.

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