Chapter 2 - THE BRIDE WHO KNEW NOTHING
“YOUR FATHER TOLD MY FAMILY YOU HAD AGREED TO EVERYTHING, AUDREY. BUT IF THAT SIGNATURE ISN'T YOURS, WE HAVE A MUCH BIGGER PROBLEM THAN A MISSING ENGAGEMENT CAKE!”
Hannah's voice trembled slightly when I finally called her.
I was still sitting inside my car.
The sun had shifted behind the clouds, and the parking lot was growing quieter.
“Hannah, before we discuss anything else, I need to ask you something.”
“Of course.”
“Did you know I wasn't invited to your engagement party?”
A long silence followed.
Then she said something I hadn't expected.
“What?”
“My father told me to deliver the desserts and leave. Graham texted me on Wednesday saying there wasn't room for me.”
“That's impossible.”
I looked at the phone.
“Apparently not.”
“Audrey, I personally asked Graham to include you. You're his sister.”
The world seemed to tilt.
She continued.
“I wanted you there. My mother even mentioned how wonderful it would be to finally meet the woman who made those desserts Graham always talked about.”
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
The woman whose work had apparently been discussed so often wasn't even allowed to attend the celebration.
“Hannah, there were 143 guests.”
“I know.”
“Tessa had a plus-one.”
“I know.”
“Your mother invited someone she met in Chicago.”
Hannah sighed.
“Oh, Audrey.”
“Everyone had a place except me.”
“I swear I didn't know.”
There was something in her voice I hadn't heard from my family all week.
Not irritation.
Not defensiveness.
Actual shame.
“Graham told me you had a major baking commitment this weekend,” she explained. “He said you wanted to send your desserts as a gift but couldn't attend personally.”
I stared at the distant highway.
“And you believed him.”
“Why wouldn't I? He's my fiancé.”
There it was.
Trust.
The very thing my brother had been spending like money that belonged to someone else.
Hannah took a careful breath.
“Can we talk about the agreement?”
“Yes. Because I have no idea what it is.”
She explained that her father, Martin Mercer, operated four upscale inns along the New England coast.
He had been searching for a reliable specialty dessert supplier for the upcoming tourist season.
Graham had proposed expanding Vale House Events into a larger hospitality-services business.
And somehow, Bluebird Bakes had become the centerpiece of that proposal.
“They told Dad your bakery would provide production, staff coordination, and specialty desserts for our properties,” Hannah said.
“How much production?”
“It's an eighteen-month arrangement.”
I felt my throat tighten.
“That isn't possible. I have one commercial kitchen and two part-time employees.”
“Graham said you were ready to expand.”
“He said what?”
“He showed my father photographs of your work. Your wedding cakes. Your dessert displays. Even some of your customer testimonials.”
Those were real.
I knew because I'd taken most of those photographs myself.
“And there was a signed agreement?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Who provided it?”
“Graham.”
I closed my eyes.
“Did anyone ask me whether I'd signed?”
Hannah didn't answer immediately.
“Dad believed he was dealing with an authorized representative.”
“Graham isn't authorized to represent Bluebird Bakes.”
“I understand that now.”
Then Hannah revealed something even more disturbing.
Her father's company had already paid Vale House Events a $28,000 advance to prepare for the proposed arrangement.
I sat perfectly still.
“Twenty-eight thousand dollars?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“Initial planning, vendor coordination, and production preparation.”
“Hannah, I haven't received one penny.”
“I know.”
Her answer was immediate.
Too immediate.
Something inside me twisted.
“Does your father know that?”
“He does now.”
I pressed my hand against my forehead.
Graham had received tens of thousands of dollars connected to my bakery.
My name was on a contract I hadn't signed.
My work was featured in brochures I hadn't approved.
And my family had deliberately kept me away from the very event where the arrangement was supposed to be celebrated.
Suddenly, my exclusion didn't feel like an insult alone.
It felt like part of a plan.
“Why announce this at an engagement party?” I asked.
Hannah gave a tired laugh.
“Because my mother thought it would make a lovely celebration of two families joining together. Business and marriage. A beautiful future for everyone.”
I looked at the photograph Tessa had sent.
Everyone.
Except the person whose business was being used to make that future possible.
“Hannah, I'm sorry this is happening on your engagement day.”
“Don't apologize for something you didn't do.”
Her words caught me off guard.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked the question I was almost afraid to hear answered.
“Does Graham know the signature isn't mine?”
Hannah hesitated.
“He insists your father had permission to handle the paperwork.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
“I know.”
I could hear someone calling her name in the background.
She stepped away from the noise.
“Audrey, my father has paused the announcement. He's asking his attorney to review the documents.”
“Good.”
“But Graham says there's been a misunderstanding. He keeps insisting you'll come back and explain.”
“Explain what?”
“That you authorized everything.”
I let out a shaky breath.
“I didn't.”
“I believe you.”
Those three words nearly undid me.
My own parents hadn't offered me that much trust.
Hannah went on.
“I'm going to send you everything I can legally share. You should have your own attorney look at it.”
“Thank you.”
“And Audrey?”
“Yes?”
“I need you to know something. If Graham lied to me about excluding his sister, I have to wonder what else he's lied about.”
I looked out through my windshield.
For the first time that day, I realized my brother's engagement might be in more danger than his business.
After we disconnected, I checked my messages.
Dad had sent six more.
Mom had sent three.
Graham had sent eleven.
The last message was different.
Audrey, please just tell Martin you authorized the arrangement. We can work out the details later. If he cancels this, I could lose everything.
I read it slowly.
There was no apology.
No acknowledgment that I'd been excluded.
No concern about my business.
Just another request for me to rescue him.
I typed:
Did you use my signature without permission?
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Finally, Graham replied.
I was trying to build something for both of us.
I felt cold all over.
That wasn't my question.
This time, the reply came almost immediately.
Dad said you'd understand once the money came in.
I stared at those words.
Dad said.
There it was again.
The man who'd told me I wasn't welcome had apparently been making business decisions in my name.
Then Graham sent one final message.
Audrey, you don't understand. That $28,000 is already gone.
I sat motionless.
Gone?
May you like
How could an advance for a business agreement I never approved already be gone?
And why did my brother sound more frightened of our father than of the Mercers?
