Fake It Till You Bake It(86)
Donovan stumbled. Shit.
He was so screwed. He’d fallen in love with Jada Townsend-Matthews, the most unpredictable person he’d ever met, who lived to shake up his carefully ordered world.
And he was happy about it? When was the last time happiness had factored into his decisions?
* * *
Jada turned in a circle, glee pumping through her veins. Everything was ready. Who said adults couldn’t have after-hours birthday parties in a cupcake shop? Not her.
Amanda Spencer, the CEO of a very successful local tech company and the daughter of a former San Diego mayor, wanted to have a bit of whimsy for her fortieth birthday party. If Jada did a good job, she was sure other business would follow.
At the request of the birthday girl, who considered herself San Diego royalty, purple and silver streamers hung from the light fixtures. A HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner, again in purple and silver, was strung along one wall. Each table had a personalized centerpiece along with party favors at each seat. Jada chuckled. Basically, she’d designed a wedding reception for Amanda’s birthday.
She checked her watch. Guests would start arriving in a few minutes. Fifty people, who would all be looking to have a good time, and she would give it to them.
Games, drinks, food, music—she’d thought of it all.
Amanda loved karaoke, so Jada had, with Donovan’s permission, bought a machine and rented a small stage. That decision had brought home the booking. Amanda had been considering having the surprise party at a karaoke bar, but the birthday girl also enjoyed Sugar Blitz’s fare, so Jada had jumped in with the offer.
Freshly baked cupcakes—chocolate, red velvet, and Oreo—spelled out Amanda’s name. A nice touch, if she did say so herself.
The bell over the front door tolled. Putting on her best hostess-with-the-mostest smile, Jada turned to greet the first partygoers. The smile died a sad, sudden death. The blood in her veins curdled.
What in the hell?
Somehow, she got her vocal cords, which had seized up in shock, to work. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi, it’s nice to see you again too, Jada,” Lila Patterson said with an arch of a razorbladed eyebrow. She was a tall woman, which didn’t stop her from wearing killer high heels. Her concessions to the long hours of filming were to slick her dark brown hair back into a sleek, stark ponytail, a style that drew attention to her sharp cheekbones and pale skin, and wear three-inch heeled boots, designer silk T-shirts, and jeans.
Jada shook her head. “Sorry. I’m stunned. You are the last person I expected to come through the door.” The texts and calls had pretty much stopped over the past week or so. Jada had hoped that meant Lila had moved on.
Lila nodded. “Understandable.” She sank gracefully into a chair like she owned the place and took a quick look around. She probably thought she did. Nobody said no to Lila Patterson, certainly not at the network on which My One and Only aired. The show was a bona fide hit, and Lila was considered a genius mastermind. Jada was sure she missed nothing in her scan. Her sharp green eyes returned to Jada. “Nice decorations.”
“Thanks.” Jada grimaced. “I don’t mean to be rude, but you can’t stay. Maybe we can catch up tomorrow. The store is closed for a birthday party. The guests will be arriving any minute.”
“I know.”
Jada blinked. “You know? You know what?”
Lila crossed her right leg over her left thigh. “That the guests are supposed to arrive for the birthday party for Amanda Spencer. Amanda’s a good friend of mine. It’s always good to have contacts in all walks of life when you’re in the biz.”
Jada collected herself as best as she could. “Oh, so you’re one of the guests? That’s great.”
“No, I’m not one of the guests. I am the guest.”
Composure was becoming harder to grasp. Jada’s brain scrambled to keep up with the shocking revelations. “I’m sorry, what?”
Lila gestured for Jada to take a seat across from her. Jada took the lifeline. She felt like her world was about to be turned upside down, and she needed all the support she could get to keep from sinking to the floor in an undignified heap after she fainted from shock. But maybe she was being dramatic. Time to get it together. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath.
Lila searched her eyes. She must have found what she was looking for—evidence that Jada wasn’t going to pass out—because she nodded. “I am your only guest. There is no birthday party.”
Jada pressed her fingertips to her temples, hoping to stave off a rapidly approaching headache. “What? Why?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll still get paid.”
Jada shook her head. “That’s great, but that’s not my immediate concern. Why would you go through all this subterfuge to book a birthday party and give very specific instructions for its execution, only for it all to be fake?”
Lila shrugged. “I admit part of it was for my own amusement. But I also wanted to see if you could execute my vision, which you did, so good for you.”
Jada shook her head, hoping the action would cause everything to make sense. “But why? Why would you care if I can plan a party?”
Lila spread her arms wide, as though the answer was obvious. “I’ve been following you since the finale aired. Word on the street is that you’ve matured since your time on the show. I had to see for myself. I could’ve called, but you haven’t been in contact with anyone else from the show. You certainly haven’t been answering my calls and texts.”