Page 87 of When I Accidentally Snagged a Serial Killer

The frosting kiss!

They match each other’s freak.

I cannot do this today.

The way he let her.

JUBILAGE forever.

I catch Jubilee around the waist before she can escape and wipe frosting from the corner of her mouth with my thumb. “Apparently,” I tell her, turning the phone so she can see, “we have a name now.”

She reads, eyebrows drawing together. “Jubilage? That sounds like a prescription medication.” She lowers her voice to a pharmaceutical-ad murmur. “Ask your doctor if Jubilage is right for you.”

I bellow so hard, my chest shakes. “Side effects include excessive cats and coaster-related marital disputes.”

She sets a sassy hand on her hip. “We’re not married.”

“Not yet.”

The comments become unreadable. I shut off the livestream before the internet collectively combusts. “Come on. I want you to meet some people.”

That gets her attention. Not nerves. She simply collects herself. Her shoulders pull back. She smooths the front of her skirt. Jubilee doesn’t enter the room like someone trying to impress my VIPs. She enters it like herself.

She asks Hannah, the bakery owner, how she survived her first year in business. Hannah spends the next ten minutes explaining wholesale margins while Jubilee listens like she’s being told state secrets.

She meets Dev, and within three minutes, she’s informed him his anti-cupcake stance is elitist propaganda.

He points at me. “See? This is why I told you not to date anyone with opinions.”

I crook a smile. “She came preinstalled.”

Jubilee leans toward Dev. “Also, he alphabetizes spices.”

“I categorize spices.”

“Control freak.”

“Domestic terrorist.”

“Coaster fascist.”

One of my longtime subscribers nearly inhales her latte.

Everywhere Jubilee goes, people open up. Not because she works the room. She doesn’t. She forgets names twice and apologizes. She gets distracted when a tabby climbs onto a nearby shelf. She asks one woman where she got her earrings. When someone tells her they’ve followed me since the cupcake-cat video, she asks what their favorite cat is instead of steering the conversation back to herself.

She’s charming because she’s interested. I’ve spent years around people who perform warmth for cameras. Jubilee simply has it.

Maisie catches my eye from behind the counter. I know that look. She knows exactly how fucked I am. I distract everyone before my sister starts providing commentary. “Actually,” I announce, “we have another special guest appearance.”

Jubilee’s eyes narrow. “Oh?”

Two staff members emerge from the back hall with Muffin and Tartlet, ignoring the offended noises from both carriers. The room softens into a chorus of restrained awws. Tartlet, being orange, has already flipped completely upside down inside her carrier and is attacking the blanket beneath her. Muffin sits upright, scratching at the sides.

Finally, I carry out Marzipan. Jubilee’s entire body changes. Her hands clasp beneath her chin. I hold the carrier up for the cameras. “Don’t blink, everyone. I call this one the Princess and the Diva.”

“I’m the Princess,” Jubilee announces, blowing a kiss to the camera.

I set the carrier down and unlatch it. Jubilee drops to her knees several feet away and opens her arms, and proclaims a sparkling soprano. “Baby!”