When Emily bakes her heart into her brother’s wedding cake, she expects gratitude, not betrayal. But when payment turns into a family scandal, it’s Grandma Margaret who serves the real justice. In a world where passion is mistaken for obligation, Emily learns that respect is the sweetest ingredient of them all.
You learn a lot about people when cake and money are involved.
I’m Emily, 25, and I love to bake.
I work in a bakery, making cakes for every occasion. Growing up, it was just a hobby but the more I learned, the more my passion grew. Cakes became my love language.
Birthdays, holidays, breakups, random Tuesdays: cake is always the answer.
I’ve been piping frosting roses since I was sixteen and built a little Instagram following along the way. Which is how I landed my job in a bakery.
“You want to work in a bakery, Emily?” my father had asked. “Seriously?”
“It’s for now,” I said in return.
“It’s just for me to learn and work my way up. I’m going to save money as well. I’m going to culinary school, Dad.
One way or another.”
“This is a hobby, Emily,” he retorted. “You’ll learn that one day when you need help paying your bills.”
Still, I had the support of the rest of my family and to sweeten the deal with them, I had never charged my family for personal, small bakes. It’s just something that I didn’t do, unless they came in through the bakery, of course.
Anything through the bakery is business. Strictly.
But they always gave me a little something. Gift cards.
Flowers. Sometimes a few folded notes tucked into my apron pocket. It was sweet.
It felt… respectful almost.
Then my little brother, Adam, got engaged to Chelsea.
And everything changed before my eyes.
They were 23. A bit too young for marriage in my humble opinion but I didn’t want to voice my concerns.
“They’ll think you’re bitter because you’re single, honey,” my mother said over pizza and wine one night.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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