Sugar, Spice & Secrets

42

As the weekend dawned, I welcomed the opportunity to escape the chaos of the week and immerse myself in a cocoon of solitude.

As I reached for my phone, a pang of disappointment washed over me as I realized it was empty—no missed calls, no messages, and certainly no word from Gabriele.

With a heavy sigh, I flipped my phone over, hiding the blank screen from view as if it held the power to erase the disappointment that gnawed at my heart. For a moment, I entertained the idea of burying my face in my pillow, seeking solace in its soft embrace.

I pushed the pillow aside and sat up, steeling myself for the wave of emotions that threatened to engulf me. Bathed in the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains, I allowed myself to acknowledge the ache in my chest.

With a resigned sigh, I turned my head towards the side drawer, where my alarm clock and the white envelope Gabriele had given me yesterday evening lay. The memory of his departure with Avery sent a pang of bitterness through me.

With a firm hold, I took the envelope and tore it open, pulling out the form for the baking competition. On one hand, there was a glimmer of excitement at the prospect of showcasing my skills and creativity on a larger stage. But on the other hand, there was a twinge of sadness, knowing that Gabriele had handed me this envelope with such casual indifference when he was the one who was excited for it.

With a heavy heart, I scanned through the details of the competition, noting the deadlines and requirements outlined on the form. Despite everything, I couldn't deny the opportunity it presented to me—a chance to prove myself and pursue my passion for baking on a professional level.

I began filling out the form, carefully entering my personal details and selecting the categories I wished to compete in. I reached the section labeled "Referral and Management." My brows furrowed in confusion as I read through the questions, unsure of what to put down.

Referral? Did I need to provide a reference from someone in the industry? And what about the management section? My family's bakery was a small, family-run business, with no formal management structure. It was just me, handling everything from baking to customer service.

I stared blankly at the form, feeling a sense of frustration welling up inside me. The thought of reaching out to Gabriele crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed it. What if he was cuddled up with Avery?

Ugh.

What if I don't my application doesn't get processed if I leave it blank? I grabbed my phone, my fingers hovering over the screen as I debated whether to call him.

Choosing to call him, the phone rang twice before diverting to voicemail. Disheartened but not ready to give up, I tried again, only to be met with the same result. With a growing sense of unease, I dialed his number for the third time, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for him to pick up.

Finally, on the third ring, the call connected. But to my surprise, it wasn't Gabriele who answered—it was Avery. My stomach dropped as I heard her cheerful voice on the other end of the line, a sharp pang of jealousy twisting in my gut.

"Julie!"

"Hi, Avery," I greeted, forcing a polite tone despite the turmoil raging inside me. "Is Gabriele available? I need to ask him something about the baking competition form he gave me yesterday."

On the other end of the line, Avery's voice carried a hint of warmth and familiarity, a stark contrast to the turbulent emotions swirling within me. The sound of her cheerful greeting sent a jolt of discomfort through my veins, and I struggled to maintain a composed facade.