Page 84 of One Sweet Lie

We need to talk.

(Jerry will handle the twins.)

I’m on my way.

Izipped up my jacket and took the elevator downstairs.

Pierce was standing in front of his newest car, looking straight ahead.

“Hey,” I said. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes. Something is very wrong.” He didn’t make eye contact with me. “I’m sure you can guess what the problem is.”

He knows?

“You’re just going to stand there?” he asked. “You have nothing to say for yourself?”

“I was planning to tell you.”

“When?”

“Eventually.”

“So,never,” he said, opening the passenger door. “Get in so we can discuss this.”

I obliged, and he remained silent as he drove, never looking over at me.

He circled the same four blocks until pulling into a space near Central Park. Without saying a word, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me against his side.

When we neared the fountain, he finally looked at me.

“I can’t believe you were going to let it slip by,” he said. “There must be a part of you that doesn’t believe I’m serious about this relationship.”

“No, I didn’t want to tell you because—” I caught myself. “Wait. What are you talking about?”

“Your birthday.”

“That’s not for another few weeks.”

“You have everyone’s marked in the shared calendars, except yours.”

“Because it’s never been that big of a deal to me.”

“That’s a shame. You should make a big deal, and if I were you, I would pursue baking as a profession sooner than later.”

“You want me to quit working for you?”

“I didn’t say that.” He smiled. “I’m sure that’s inevitable once people realize how well you make sweets, though.”

We stopped walking as we approached my dream storefront.

I pressed my hand against the glass and peered inside.

“I swear I notice something new every time I come here,” I said. “The for sale sign is five inches lower today.”

“That sign shouldn’t be there at all.”

“What do you mean?”