I hired them on the spot.

They were still on the payroll working some evenings and weekends and, although business had slowed, it was not by much. They were godsends considering they were punctual, understood customer service, were hard workers, didn’t like to be bored and they were hilarious. Kellie was even learning how to decorate cakes.

In other words, they were two of the reasons I could finally have a day off.

The bad news about this was, I was overworked, exhausted and my Christmas spirit had been drained out of me. Not to mention, I didn’t have it in me to stay on the ball with all that was happening around me. Therefore I pretty much didn’t know what was happening around me because Brock locked himself straight into protective mode and told me not to worry about that shit, instead focus on the bakery and Christmas.

And I probably shouldn’t have taken him up on that but I did.

It wasn’t really true that I had no days off. I had Christmas off and New Years. But neither of these were days off, as such, considering the activity levels. Firstly, Mom was taking a long visit, enjoying an Australian summer with my sister, there Thanksgiving through the New Year so I had to be up at an ungodly hour to get their Skype. Then Brock only got the boys for half a day on both days and half that time needed to be spent having Christmas lunch/New Year’s dinner at his mother’s house, the other half at his pad and then they had to get back home so we were running around most of the day and I was doing my damnedest to make them good days for the boys because Olivia was still filling their head with garbage about me. They were visibly confused, worried about the state of affairs, worried about their Dad and struggling with loyalty to their Mom in how they dealt with me.

So, suffice it to say, even protected from that shit by Brock, it still leaked in and I had also descended from really not liking Olivia to pretty much hating her.

Brock had had two dinners with Olivia since the first drama (yes, two, the bitch). This did not fill me with joy but luckily I was too exhausted to build up any emotion about it because that emotion would probably not have been pleasant and Brock came home from both dinners looking like he wanted to rip someone’s head off so I needed to look after my man.

In other words, just like Elvira warned, Olivia was playing every game in the book, not listening to a word Brock said and that situation had not gone away.

Though, that said, after dinner number two, Brock came home not only looking like he wanted to rip someone’s head off but also declaring, “That’s it, done with that shit,” which I suspected meant dinner number three would happen when hell froze over. And this was also part of the reason for “the talk” with his boys this weekend.

I had no clue what Damian was doing and Brock didn’t fill me in. I figured my man was honest enough with me that he would tell me if there was something I needed to know so I kept my head down and did what he told me to do, focused on what I needed to be doing and that was not lapsing into a coma.

So right then, due to pure habit, I was in my kitchen thinking for the first time in my life if I saw a cake I’d scream my head off.

And thus I was also realizing that I hadn’t had a vacation in over a year and I was wondering, since Brock hadn’t been in his job too long, if he could get a week off and we could go to a beach somewhere.


And when my mind skidded into this thought, it moved onto other thoughts of beaches, water, tropical drinks that tasted like liquid candy and the fact that local fashion dictates would mean for the vast majority of time Brock would be in nothing but swim trunks.

And this was what was pleasantly occupying my mind when a knock came at the door.

My pleasant thoughts evaporated, I looked at the door and my first instinct was to run downstairs and hide in the guest room.

Another knock came and I heard Martha shout, “Tess! I know you’re in there because I can see your car and his new fancy-ass truck! Open up!”

Oh man.

Martha was on a tear.

I sucked in breath reconsidering the guest room and instead considering escaping out the back.

Then, because it was Martha, I walked to the door.

I opened it to see Martha plus Elvira as well as another black woman with tawny eyes and an enormous afro that had to have its own zip code and they were all accompanied by a woman who, at first glance I would have sworn was Dolly Parton. After blinking, I saw she was younger but she still had the masses of fabulous platinum hair, enormous bosoms and she was wearing skintight stonewash (yes, stonewash) from shoulders to toes (including platform boots made of stonewash). The entirety of this was adorned with what looked like a layer of glitter not to mention a heavy array of rhinestones decorating the shoulders and down the front of her jeans jacket.

Whoa.

“You exist,” Martha snapped and my eyes moved from Dolly to her.

“Hey,” I said softly.

Suffice it to say, with my life as crazy as it was, I didn’t have time for Martha except for some random texts and quick phone calls.

And suffice it to say, Martha wasn’t down with that.

She pushed in and her posse pushed in with her, Elvira giving me a wide-eyed look that spoke volumes and those volumes were that I needed to brace because Martha was on a tear.

She didn’t have to warn me. I’d known Martha a long time. I knew before I even opened the door.

Damn.

I closed the door behind them, turned and trailed them as Martha made a bee-line to my kitchen, introducing, “This is Shirleen and Daisy, they’re friends of Elvira and Gwen’s.

Gwen met Shirleen during her thingamabob and with Shirleen came Daisy and with Gwen came Elvira and with Elvira comes me and now we’re all here.”

I looked to Shirleen and Daisy and greeted, “Hi guys.”

Daisy gave me a bright smile and I knew she was Daisy because she said, “Hey, I’m Daisy.”

“You’re Tessa of Tessa’s Cakes,” Shirleen (the black lady) announced like I didn’t have that information.

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“I been to your place, like, a lot. Too much. It’s important for a black woman to have booty, but not a Tessa’s Cakes booty. You owe me at least ten pounds, you get what I’m sayin’?” she stated.

“Uh… yeah,” I replied because I did but even if I didn’t, she was kind of scary of the Elvira variety so I still would have agreed.

“Only two things better in the whole world than your frosted sugar cookies with daisy sprinkles and those are pigs in a blanket and a man with a fine package. This I know as fact,”


she declared, I blinked at this unusual compliment, Daisy emitted a little giggle that sounded like bells, Elvira grinned big at me but Martha shouted.

“What the frig? ”

We all turned to her to see her glaring at the empty, ornate, milky green glass cake stand at the edge of my counter (I’d rotated).

“What?” I asked.

Her eyes cut to me and she jabbed a finger at the cake plate. “What’s that?”

I looked to the cake plate then I looked to her.

Then I answered, “That’s my fabulous, ornate, green glass cake plate.”

“It sure is fabulous,” Daisy agreed, eyeing my cake plate. “I need to get me one of those.”

But Martha’s eyes narrowed, as in went squinty, I knew what that meant so instead of thanking Daisy, I kept my focus on Martha.

“It’s empty,” she pointed out.

I looked at the cake plate then at her.

“Yeah,” I agreed unnecessarily.

She glared at me.

What on earth?

“Martha –” I started.

She cut me off to say, “We’re going shopping and, after, we’re hitting Club. We dropped by to see if you wanna go.”

No way in hell. Not that I didn’t want to spend time with her but I was shopped out.

Buying presents for Brock, his boys, his family and my personal list had beat even me, a seasoned shopper dedicated to remaining as such. I had vowed to myself (and shared with Brock, who not only approved, he also laughed his ass off when I shared it), that I had sworn off malls until March.

Therefore, I had to find a kickass nightie for his Valentine’s present online (for I might have sworn off malls but I figured online shopping didn’t count).

“I’ve sworn off malls,” I announced, saw Martha’s eyes get big and heard Elvira and Daisy suck in shocked breaths. “Christmas did me in. The bakery was crazed and having to buy presents for Brock, his boys, his family, you, all my employees, Mom, my sis and –”

“I know your network has expanded, Tess, I know, ” Martha cut me off to say.

Oh man.

There it was.

“Martha –”

“I also know my Tess never but never has an empty cake stand at her house. And my Tess could shop until she dropped as evidenced by you getting up with me at five o’clock in the morning when that travelling, discount designer shoe emporium opened up their tent at the flea market and we stood in line for four hours to get in and we tried on every single pair of shoes in our size even if we didn’t like them just in case they looked hot on when they didn’t in the box. And my Tess could get busy at the bakery but she’d pry herself away to meet for a quick lunch or pop by for a glass of wine or be home occasionally so I could pop by her place.”

“I went to that emporium,” Daisy whispered to Shirleen. “Found me three pairs of boots.

Three. It was hot.”

“Mm hmm,” Shirleen muttered back, not tearing her eyes off the action.