Page 81 of Royal Icing

Holy shit. She had done it. The money was hers. Now all she had to do was man the table and enjoy the party. She could probably even sneak a drink or a plate of food from a server.

This money was about to change everything. Her mom could stay on her medication. She could tell Maya to kiss her ass on New Year’s Eve. Or maybe she should wait until she lined up a couple of freelance social media gigs. Their following had increased by at least a third since their trip to Lynoria, and the video Emma had just posted of the gingerbread castle was already up to twenty-five thousand views.

Everything was perfectly on track. She should be euphoric, shouting from the rafters. But instead, there was a dark cloud inside her. In a matter of hours, she and Cooper would be on a train to Barcelona, then a plane to New York. And Leo would still be here, fighting for his dream.

And she probably wouldn’t even see him before she left. He was busy with the community kitchen, serving his people as always.

Did he even care that she was leaving? The way he had made love to her the night before didn’t feel like a casual, friendly thing. He had worshipped her, savoring every inch of her flesh like she was a gift he was unwrapping.

Shit. His gift. She had almost forgotten. She had baked a cheesecake for his birthday and left it in her fridge. She’d have to find a way to sneak it to his room without the queen seeing her.

A pang hit her heart. She would miss his birthday. It shouldn’t matter, but for some reason, it did.

The doors opened again, and guests started filtering in. Ruby ran over to gawk at the castle, and Emma slid her an espresso croissant she had made just for her. A dozen more were in the freezer per the queen’s request.

A couple members of the press had slunk in and were taking pictures. One approached her and held out her hand.

“Miss Farrell?”

“Clark. Emma Clark.”

“Oh, great. I’m Sidney Mukherjee fromFood Magazine.”

That name was familiar. The nerves were back. Emma held her breath and fought the sudden strange urge to curtsy.

“It’s wonderful to meet you. I love your travel pieces. The mochi ice cream feature you did in June? Inspired.”

Sidney smiled and brushed her dark hair away from her face. “Thank you so much. Do you mind if I ask you a fewquestions? And take some pictures. I’ll be honest, I’ve never seen a gingerbread on this scale.”

They talked for forty minutes as the gala commenced. Maya was nowhere to be found, so Emma never bothered to mention her. She didn’t deserve even an ounce of credit.

By the time Sidney left, Emma’s heart was full. The magazine feature could change things for her.

Tons of people had stopped to take pictures with the castle, including the king and queen. Guests chattered excitedly, bending down to inspect the tiny windows and shingles.

For the next couple hours, people streamed up, asking questions about the castle and pulling cupcakes and macarons off the grounds. But no one touched the castle. It was just as well. Queen Eleanor would probably have them beheaded.

God, Emma was tired. Maybe she could catch a couple hours of sleep before her ride to the train station.

She searched the crowd continuously, hoping against hope that Leo would return. How selfish was she to hope that he left the food bank early?

A server slipped her a plate, and she ate it on the floor behind the gingerbread castle. Garlic mashed potatoes, cornish game hens, and buttery carrots. It was to die for. And within a year, she’d be able to afford better food for her and her mom. Her savings plan was complete. Now she just had to ride out the noncompete period and set up her own business. It was terrifying, but exhilarating.

“You did it,” a familiar voice said behind her, breaking her out of her reflection.

“Leo,” she said with what was probably a gigantic smile. “You made it.”

He must have slunk through the back door behind the dessert table. He was dressed in jeans and a flannel, but he was sexier than any of the tuxedo-clad men in the ballroom.

“I told you I would. Emma, this is incredible. True art. Your mom must be so proud.”

“I think she is,” she said with a smile. They had video chatted earlier and Emma’d had to mute her exclamations as they echoed in the ballroom.

Leo glanced past her, nodded at someone across the room, and held out his hand.

She looked at him. What was he doing?

“You’ve been paid, right?” he asked.