[COMPLETED]
I won't be another straight man's secret.
It's hard to plan the perfect wedding for your best friend when you can't keep your eyes off the groom's cousin. Sky's perfect -- except for one thing: he's as straight as the last man who broke...
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“Why have a cake at all?” I joked to Clarissa as we stepped inside the bakery, my mind still on Sky’s insane suggestion earlier.
The bakery was mostly quiet, with a few patrons sitting near the back of the shop, their eyes glued to their laptops. I’d been to this bakery before, quite a few times, and I always appreciated how laidback the place was. Even the music that played over the speakers sounded like it was made for the sole purpose of getting people to relax.
And the pastries? Incredible.
In fact, they were so incredible that I’d avoided coming into this shop on an empty stomach, in fear of abandoning all self-control. Although today, I felt like I’d be able to indulge my desire to fill up on their chocolate chip muffins or grab one of their delicious yet calorie-filled coffees to go.
“It’s like he has no idea what a wedding is supposed to be,” Clarissa joked back. “Oh my God. Sky is seriously one of the funniest people I know.”
“I’m standing right here.” Sky frowned, glancing around the shop. “And you two are being ridiculous. You shouldn’t have to have a cake at your wedding if you don’t even like cake to begin with.”
“You’re forgetting the first rule about weddings, Sky,” I spoke, walking over toward him.
“The first rule of weddings?”
“Yep.” I nodded. “The very first rule? Your wedding isn’t about you. If you wanted a wedding that was all about you, you could just get married in your backyard while you’re grilling something on the BBQ.”
“Yeah, you could. What’s wrong with a wedding like that?”
“In theory? Nothing,” I answered. “But that’s not what most brides want. Most brides want something memorable, something magical. They want something that their friends will talk about for the next five years--”
“Something memorable? Something magical?” The head baker, Harriet, appeared from behind the counter with a warm smile on her face. “That sounds like you’re looking for a slice of my double chocolate cake.” She beamed in my direction. “Ah, Raven! So lovely to see you again.”
“You’re on a first name basis with the employees here?” Clarissa asked. “Is this like your favorite place or something?”
“Or something,” I replied, not feeling like explaining to her that the bakery was the place I came to if I wanted to escape on my lunch hour, eager to get away from certain clients at work.
