Page 109 of A Taste of Vanilla

Caroline Whitaker, the pearl-wearing patron saint of emotional manipulation, had contacted my vendor about the date.

The date.

The date that had belonged to the wedding I had cancelled because her son had cheated on me.

A sad sound leaves my mouth. It’s small, but Marley is up and next to me in a second.

Oliver stands too. Dev stops mid-steam, and Lisa appears in the kitchen doorway holding a tray of croissants.

“What happened?” Marley asks.

I turn the phone toward her, and she reads the email, silently mouthing the words.

Her eyes narrow and her jaw sets. She’s angry. Not funny angry. Not even angry like this morning.

A quiet anger that simmers.

Oliver reads it over her shoulder. “Jesus,” he says.

I laugh once. “Did she think I was going to forget to cancel? Did she want to book the photographer for Grant and Elise’s office wedding?”

“Don’t,” Marley says softly.

“I’m serious. Maybe they can do the ceremony on the desk. It’s meaningful.”

Oliver bites his bottom lip.

Dev whispers, “I can make a playlist.”

“Dev!” Lisa snaps.

“What? I said it quietly.”

I set the phone on the counter.

Caroline has not called me. She has not apologized or acknowledged what Grant did. She’s gone around me, neat and polished, already trying to repurpose the wreckage.

That is Whitaker behavior. If something is broken, they don’t mourn it. They manage the optics.

Marley touches my arm. “I’ll handle it.”

“No.” I shake my head, straightening.

Her eyes flicker from Oliver to me.

“No,” I say again, as if convincing myself. “I’ll handle it.”

I open the email and type.

Hi Elsa,

Thank you for checking with me first. The wedding is officially cancelled. The date may be released according to the terms of our contract, but please do not share any personal details with Caroline Whitaker or anyone else from the Whitaker family.

Thank you for being kind.

Halston

My thumb hovers over Send, my hand shaking.