Page 57 of Screwed
“Macie Wyatt heard that you made the wedding cake.”
Callie turned slowly. “Yes. I did.”
Mama shook her head. “Youmadethe wedding cake?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God. How mortifying.”
“What?” Callie frowned. “Why is it mortifying?”
“Weren’t you friends with Melanie Walden?”
“Um, sort of. We weren’t really close, but we were sorority sisters. She’s two years younger than me.”
“You should beinvitedto society weddings like that. Notcateringthem.” Mama’s lip curled, and she touched her fingertips to the pearls at her throat.
Callie couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of her. “I wasn’t catering it, Mama. I made a cake. A very expensive cake.”
Mama paused, then shook her head. “Still. Macie was so surprised to hear that a Sutherland had made the cake.”
“Did she like it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
Callie’s breath left her on awhooshof disappointment. “Of course you didn’t.”
Why had she had even a breath of hope that Mama might have been proud of her?
But at least this had distracted her from the fact that Cash had been there.
“I’m starting my own bakery.”
Mama’s jaw went slack, and she stared at her. “What did you say?”
“I’m starting my own bakery. I’m going to make wedding cakes like the one for Melanie, and special cookies and French macarons.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
Callie’s heart squeezed. “Why is it ridiculous?”
“Because you’re not a…abaker! And you don’t know anything about running a business.”
“Mama, I’ve worked in retail for years. I know a little about it. And I worked atDuchessein Paris for nearly six months. I learned a lot there.”
“That’s Paris. Not Houston. Oh my God.” Mama pressed her hand to her forehead. “What will people think?”
Callie sighed. She’d anticipated that her parents wouldn’t be supportive of the idea but hadn’t thought they’d be horrified. “Mama, I’m starting my own business. That’s what people in this family do, right? That’s how Grandpa made billions of dollars, and how your father made millions of dollars, and now Daddy is making millions of dollars.”
“A bakery?” Mama shook her head. “It just seems so…menial. Do you have any Maker’s Mark?”
Callie gave her head a shake and set down her coffee mug. “Isn’t it a little early for that, Mama?”
“Nonsense.”
Callie moved across the kitchen to the glass-fronted cabinet where she kept her liquor. She splashed bourbon into a glass and handed it to her mother. Mama’s gaze dropped to her hand, and she let out a screech. “What isthat?”
Callie almost spilled the bourbon. “What?”
