There Will Be Blood

I. Innocent

I. Innocent

Not many people knew Rosalie Gallagher; most of mankind had never heard her name. But the few people who knew her described her with a couple of words: sweet, friendly, nice and most of all innocent. I have to admit she was sweet, if she wanted to be. She was friendly, if she needed something from you. And she could be nice if she felt like it. But one word I would never use to describe Rosalie would be innocent. In my opinion the terms fierce, headstrong, smart and charismatic were more fitting. Everything really, apart from innocent. Because that girl was even further from innocent than I was.

———————————————————-

"Rose, please hurry up with the icing," Agatha, the head of the kitchen, shouted from the other side of the room. She was frantically putting petit fours on a large silver platter, her brows furrowed in concentration at her task. "That cake must be out of this kitchen in less than ten minutes."

I let out a sound of recognition while I tried to keep my hand steady. With my clothed elbow, I wiped a bit of perspiration from my forehead. I took a deep breath and climbed another step on the ladder, making sure I had perfect access to the tenth layer of the enormous cake that had taken me over eight days to create.

"Do you need help?" a friendly male voice asked from below.

I looked down to see the open face of one of the stable boys. For the Sweet Sixteen of the boss's daughter seriously every single employee of the Cavanaugh family had been assigned a task. Aaron was, for example, a waiter for the evening. When I saw that he had already taken a piping bag in his hands, I quickly shook my head. "No, no. It's alright. I'm getting to the lettering."

I felt a slight sting in my chest when I saw his shoulders sag but I couldn't let him do it. If one bit of the cake was out of place, I would never hear the end of it. As much as I trusted Aaron, I was not so sure of his decoration skills.

I quickly finished my last swirl and took the piping bag out of Aaron's hands. With as much precision as I could muster, my hand started to write on the side of the cake. Elegant letters appeared on the pink marzipan. A huge breath left my lungs when I finished the last letter.

Happy Sweet Sixteen, Caroline.

"Done," I couldn't help but smile slightly at the masterpiece in front of me. The twelve layer tier cake was, if I may say so myself, gorgeous. It was over the top but that was exactly what was asked. It fitted the theme of the evening perfectly. Everything about Caroline's Sweet Sixteen party was too much.

I didn't have much time to admire the result of countless hours of baking, rolling, kneading and icing. Agatha came rushing over, pushing me and Aaron behind the cart and shooing us out of the kitchen. I quickly checked the clock and saw that we had exactly two minutes before Caroline's mother, Eleanor, would check the ballroom. Without hesitating, the two of us started moving the cake towards the room where the party would be held.

"You outdid yourself, Rosie," Aaron grinned when we had placed the cake on the side of the room. It stood proudly between multiple flower arrangements and white clothed tables that would soon be filled with countless gifts for the birthday girl.

"Thanks," I mumbled barely audible. I've never been comfortable with compliments. "It was nothing."

"Stop putting yourself down," Aaron nudged me playfully in the side. "This cake would cost thousands of euros if you'd sell it."

I smiled at my friend and returned his nudge. "Well, you helped me bring it safely here. One wrong move and it would've been worth absolutely nothing."