Emma: Lights! Camera! Cupcakes! (12 page)

“Wait, you mean those cupcakes . . .,” said Alexis.

“Are Romaine Ford's
wedding
cupcakes?” Olivia shrieked. (Aha! So
she
was the one who'd shrieked in the car last night!)

Mona and I laughed as she put the van into park in the back of the driveway.

“Yup,” I said.

“OMG. OMG. OMG!” Katie was bouncing up and down in her seat.

“When did you find out?” asked Alexis.

“About a week ago?” I said.

“But how did you keep it a secret?” Katie demanded.

“Not very easily,” I admitted. “It was soooo hard.”

“I can't believe you didn't breathe a word,” Mia said admiringly.

Then Alexis said, “Emma, you should have told us! We could have come up with something spectacular! Something special! These are just standard cupcakes!”

“And we don't have a special presentation!” wailed Mia.

Suddenly, I felt terrible. Maybe I had handled this wrong. After all, who was my loyalty really to—some random celebrity I barely know or my closest and best friends (and business partners)? Now they felt like yet again they were not putting forward their best work, and it was all my fault.

But then Katie jumped in. “You know what? I think these cupcakes are perfect. Look around. Romaine is getting married in her backyard. It isn't fancy. And these cupcakes are really pretty; even your mom kept saying so. I think they are just perfect.”

I let out my breath, and suddenly, I felt Mona's arm across my shoulders.

“I agree,” said Mona. “Simple elegance always is the chicest. Trust me. And I think the bride will agree too.”

And just then Romaine came out onto the
porch. She did not look like last night's glamorous movie premiere star, in fancy makeup with a fancy hairdo and gown. She looked like . . . well, like the girl next door! Fresh-scrubbed face, wet hair, sweats, and a huge, happy smile on her face.

“Hi, Emma!” she says. “Hi, Cupcakers!”

The girls were all speechless and Romaine laughed. “Surprise! Now let's see the cupcakes. I've been waiting all week!”

We climbed the porch stairs, and Romaine sat on one of the wicker settees as I opened the lid of one of the carrying cases.

“OH!” cried Romaine. “They're absolutely perfect. It's just what I wanted!” Then she got a devilish look in her eye. “Can I taste one?”

“Of course!” I said. “They're your cupcakes!”

Romaine bit into one, and her eyes got big. “These are delicious!” she said through a mouthful of crumbs. She eyed the purple frosting, and then she said, “Lime, I think?”

“Yeah, um, about the flavors? They don't exactly match the colors. . . . I'm so sorry.”

“It's all my fault.” Katie began to apologize profusely.

“I think it's genius!” said Romaine. “How boring would it be if the flavors matched the colors?
Anyone could do that! This is unexpected; professional cupcakes with a homemade twist.”

“That's us!” said Alexis proudly. Then she mumbled, “Maybe that should be our motto.” We all rolled our eyes.

“All right, darlings, let's get going,” says Mona, breaking the spell. She shooed Romaine into the house to get ready and asked me to follow along to help tie bows and zip up dresses after I finished setting up the cupcakes.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Ford asked the caterer to lead us out to the tent to put the cupcakes on the buffet.

There, on the dessert table, were six beautiful, pastel-colored display platters of varying heights. The caterer directed us to put the cupcakes on the pedestals, front and center, and we arranged them as instructed.

“I have an idea,” Katie whispered, and she darted off into the garden.

She came back with an armful of flowers.

“Katie!” I yelped.

“Shh,” she said. “I took them from the back of the garden. It's fine.”

Then she and Mia began arranging the flowers around the cupcakes, peeling off the petals and
delicately placing them all over the pedestals.

Once the platters were covered, we stepped back to admire our handiwork.

“Wow,” said Olivia. “They really look beautiful.”

They really, really did. The cupcakes were pretty, but the flowers made them perfect. It almost looked like the cupcakes were blooming out of them. I beamed, glad to know I could count on my friends.

“I can't believe it!” I said.

“Didn't you trust us?” said Alexis, hugging me with one arm.

I fake-glared at her sideways. “Not exactly. But they do look perfect.”

“And I bet they taste great,” said Mia.

“They match with everything in here,” Katie pointed out.

We looked around, and it was true. All the tablecloths and napkins were in mix-and-match variations of the same colors, and the bouquet centerpiece on each table had flowers in the same pale yellow, green, pink, purple, and blue.

“It's all so pretty,” I said.

“Funny that the cupcakes we slaved over came out sort of crummy, and the ones we just . . . did . . . came out better,” Katie said.

“That's because we were trying too hard on the
other ones,” admitted Mia. I was glad someone else had said it besides me.

“I just can't believe I hang out with the Cupcake Club for twenty-four hours and get to attend the two most exciting events of the year!” said Olivia. “Thanks, you guys.”

“Yoo-hoo! Emma!” Patricia was calling me from the porch.

“Gotta run, guys. I'll come find you when it's time to go.”

“What should we do in the meantime?” asked Katie.

“Um. I'll send Patricia down to find you, and then maybe we can all stay and spy on the wedding ceremony, okay? Just don't call the press while you're waiting. Actually, don't call anyone!”

“As if!” They all laughed.

I
'd been helping Samantha (she signed autographs for all the Cupcakers downstairs!) and Romaine's sister Florence and niece (who did look a lot like me, by the way), and when it was time for the bridal party to get together at the top of the front stairs for the procession, I saw Romaine fully dressed for the first time. I actually had tears in my eyes, she looked so beautiful.

“Oh!” I said. It was so unexpected. I mean, she's a beautiful girl, and I've seen her dressed up before. But this was different. She looked so, so happy, like she was really about to start a new life and live happily ever after. She looked like a real-life fairy princess.

I grabbed a tissue from a box on the hall table
and blotted my eyes. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up. It was Mona.

“It never gets old,” she said, wiping at her own eyes. “That's why I keep doing it.”

I smiled up at her. “Do you ever get sick of the brides?” I whispered.

“Oh, honey, you can't imagine!” Mona laughed. “But not this one. She's the real deal. Anyway, I like them all by the time I'm looking at the backs of them heading down the aisle. It's always a fresh start.”

We trailed behind the bridal party as they made their way toward the door that led out to the garden.

“Psst!” we heard, and we turned to see Patricia waving us into the family room.

Inside were the Cupcakers and Patricia, who were awed by their privileged spot at the window. Mona and I joined them and watched as Romaine gracefully made her way through the beautiful garden, upon a white satin runner covered in rose petals, through the rows of white chairs holding only family and friends.

The look on Liam's face was breathtaking as he saw her. His eyes lit up, and he grinned till it looked like his face would break. When he took her arm,
he had to accept a hankie from his best man and blot his eyes. It was so sweet. We all sighed in unison, then laughed quietly because we all had the same reaction.

“This is one of the prettiest things I've ever seen,” I said.

“Me too.” Mona sighed, and we giggled.

Later, on the way back to my house, with Patricia at the wheel (Mona had stayed to help with wardrobe details, and Patricia would return to help too once she'd dropped us off safely), Alexis burst out.

“I still can't believe you didn't tell us!” she chided.

“I felt terrible about it,” I admitted. “And it wasn't that I didn't trust you. But if one of us slipped and it got out . . .”

“I'm glad you didn't tell us,” said Katie. “It would be too much to keep that news a secret. I'm relieved!”

“I agree,” said Mia. “No pressure this way!”

“You can always tell me,” said Olivia. “I'm the quietest of all the Cupcake Club!” and we all laughed.

Two days later I was doing my homework when the phone rang.

“Honey, it's Alexis!” my mom called.

I sat still in my seat. Did “honey” mean me or Matt? It was really annoying to not know.

“Emma!” my mom called again.

I jumped up, pleased that the call was for me and not Matt.
Ha! So there!
I thought as I passed the room he was still sharing with Sam.

“Hello?”

“Are you on the cordless?” asked Alexis with absolutely no introduction.

“Yeeeees?” I said suspiciously.

“Go to you computer. Go to
celebritymag.com
. Go!”

“Okay, okay!” I scurried into my room and did as I was told. On the homepage was a story about “Romaine and Liam's Wild Weekend!” I rolled my eyes. I would hardly have called that weekend wild, but whatever.

“Click on the Romaine story,” instructed Alexis, so I did. “Scroll to the end of the story. Read the second to last paragraph.” I could practically hear Alexis tapping her foot impatiently while I got to the right spot and read.

“OMG!” I yelled. “I can't believe it!”

Alexis was screaming through the phone. What it said was:

Desserts for both events were catered by the Cupcake Club, a local company run by old family friends of the Fords'. The bridal cupcake display was spectacular, with an elegant array of pastel-colored cupcakes sprinkled with spring blooms matching the decor. “They make the most delicious cupcakes you've ever had,” said Romaine. “Their motto is: Professional cupcakes with a homemade twist.” The same could be said about Ms. Ford.

I shrieked. “This is amazing! Better publicity than we could ever dream of! Are you ecstatic?” I cried.

“Our website has already crashed twice!” said Alexis. “It's great!”

We laughed and laughed. “We need a cupcake meeting tomorrow to celebrate, don't you think?”

“Definitely,” agreed Alexis.

The next day we sat around Alexis's neat kitchen, discussing the Romaine Weekend, as we'd come to call it, for the tenth time.

“Pretty surprising Olivia turned out to be so handy,” Mia remarked.

“Yeah, she's pretty good with her hands,” I said.

“And she's got a decent work ethic, too, once you know what motivates her,” agreed Alexis.