For the Love of Donuts

13. She Can Smell Fear

Skye

I’ll be the first to admit that Mondays are usually crappy. But I’m actually pretty proud of myself for getting some adulting done.

Last night, I watched a couple of episodes from some trending teen drama about a love triangle between two brothers, and I typed up my “about me” post. Well, except for the part where I’m supposed to announce that I’m recently engaged to the love of my life .

See, after Tatum’s comment about marriage last night, the subject has really turned sour for me. Like, think of the SOUREST candy you can possibly think of and multiply it a billion times over. That’s how I feel about marriage right now.

I also picked out my outfit for today’s “engagement pictures.”

Since I don’t want anything too fancy, I’m going to wear a lavender sundress with a pair of white sneakers. Cute. Simple. C omfortable . And when Anna begged me to consider wearing heels, I threatened to unravel her yarn balls.

It’s not that there’s anything wrong with heels, but I’m dreading this photoshoot enough already, so I’m not going to suffer even more by wearing heels.

Oh! I wrapped the twins’ gift too. My adulting game is SO strong.

And now, I’m in the conference room at work while we’re having our usual Monday meeting. Zoya’s not in yet, so Michaelyn, the office manager, is handling most of the talking.

I’m trying my best to pay attention to her, but I’m more preoccupied with the way that Lola keeps staring at me. I swear those pale blue eyes can see right through my fake engagement with Tatum. That’s probably why she was hovering and being so annoying yesterday.

She wants to expose me as a liar, and I’m sure that she also—

Michaelyn mentions something about the 10-year party, and then she announces that I’m taking over The Donut Blog, which makes the position sound permanent .

Newsflash: it’s NOT permanent!

A few people clap, causing me to cringe. Ew, no thanks. Noooooo clapping. And scattered clapping? That’s even worse.

As Michaelyn continues to talk, I lean in toward Ian, one of our merch people, and whisper, “I’m just kind of filling in with the blog. It’s not permanent or anything like that.”

“ Shh ,” he hisses at me, his eyes glued to the front of the room, “Michaelyn is still talking.”

“Right, right,” I say, making sure to lower my voice even more, “I just…I wanted to clear up any confusion about me and the blog, that’s all.”

“I’m trying to give Michaelyn my full attention and you’re ruining that.” He blindly waves me off. “Zip. It.”

Rude.

I raise an eyebrow when I realize he’s jotting something down on the notepad in front of him. “Are you…taking notes?”

Taking notes about what ?

He turns his back toward me, so my view of the notepad is completely blocked. “Do. You. Mind?”

Note to self: don’t sit next to Ian during any meetings.

Soon Michaelyn finishes going over her different points for the week, and everyone begins to leave the room. Well, not Ian. He parks his unfriendly tush right next to Michaelyn, who’s tapping away on her phone, and his eyes get soft as he starts talking to her.

Call me crazy, but I think someone has a crush.

Maybe he wasn’t taking notes. Maybe he was writing Michaelyn’s name and his name together with hearts and “xoxos” all over that super-secret notepad.

“Skye,” Lillian says, appearing beside me in the hallway, “I heard about the big news. Congratulations! And your ring is stunning.”

I steal a glance at Dria’s ring. Ya know, the one I almost forgot to wear this morning?

“Thank you. It’s very…exciting.”

Yep, that’s one word to describe this mess.

“I was so thrilled when Hank proposed to me. The wedding planning was draining at times, but so worth it!” She reaches out to give my arm a light squeeze. “If you need any advice, or want to chitchat about the wedding, just let me know. Okay?”

Another note to self: ask Dria what brides-to-be should talk about most when they’re wedding planning.

My sister always seemed busy when she was getting ready to marry Trey, but the specific details are kind of fuzzy to me. I just showed up and did whatever she told me to do.

I thank Lillian for her offer, and then I disappear to my desk before anyone else feels obligated to congratulate me or talk about the “wedding.”

My phone buzzes as I sit down in my chair, and I quickly check the notification to see that Tatum texted me.

Tatum: Morning, Pink Stuffffff. Really quick, is there anything I should know about Zoya before my meeting with her today?

Me: She can smell fear.

Tatum: So, lots of cologne then?

Me: Too bad she hates cologne.

Me: You’re doomed.

Tatum: I hate you.

Me: Good to know. Now stop texting me before I end up getting snitched on.

Tatum: Wish me luck?

Look at how well he listens to me.

Even so, I text him back.

Me: No need. I already know you’re going to be great.

I send a couple of fire emojis for good measure, and he responds with a thumbs-up emoji.

Good stuff. Good stuff.

I put my phone away and turn my attention to my computer screen where I have my “about me slash meet the blogger” draft up. I need to finish it. I can’t keep dragging my feet. After all, what’s more important? Being sore about the subject of marriage? Or getting my promotion?

So, I begin typing.

I also recently got engaged to my best friend Tatum! And since he knows how much I love donuts, he proposed in the best way possible…

Cringe. I actually hate myself right now. But I’m sure Zoya will think it’s adorable and she’s the one I’m trying to impress. The cringe stays.

I don’t think I need to add more than that though, right? When I add in the pictures, they’ll do most of the talking. A picture is worth a thousand words, after all, and I’ll probably share like three or four? I don’t know. I guess I’ll just share however many pictures a normal engaged woman would share.

I make some more tweaks to the draft, and then I add in a picture of me, so our readers don’t think I’m a robot or something. Okay, fine, it’s a really good picture of me and deserves to be seen instead of just chilling in my camera roll. Tatum took it a few Saturdays back when we were at Dovell Donuts. Who doesn’t love a cute— totally candid —donut photo-op?

After I’m done with that, I begin to sift through some older blog posts so I can refresh my memory of what kind of content will be expected from me. Donut flavor polls, different Dovell Donuts for each holiday, donuts that match with your go-to coffee drink, etc. Oh! And that time we hosted a contest to see who could come up with the best name for one of our new donut flavors. The winner got a $100 gift card with us and Dovell Donuts merch.

It was a really fun contest. We should do something like that again…

Which means I need to write that down because I’ll end up forgetting about it.

I grab my donut-printed notebook, and my Dovell Donuts pen, then flip to a blank page. I could just start a list on the computer, but what’s the point of having cute stationery supplies if you don’t use them?

At the top of the page, I write: Ideas .

I also add a quick little drawing of a donut next to the word.

Boom. Spectacular.

I’m basically Van Gogh.

“Hey, Skye,” Kym says, nodding toward one of the room’s floor-to-wall glass panels, “your man is hereeeee.”

Sure enough, Tatum is walking down the hallway toward Zoya’s office with his brown leather satchel bag hanging beside his hip. He stops for a second, just long enough to catch my gaze through the glass, and then he gives me a flirty look.

Smooth, Jacobs. Smooth .

Kym immediately begins to gush and says something about Tatum having “Flynn Rider energy” while I try to think of how I’m supposed to react.

“Oh my gosh, look at that smile on your face!” she exclaims with a groan. “You guys are too freaking cute! I’m so jealous, girl.”

How the heck did I not realize that I was smiling?

Tatum disappears from my line of sight, and I focus my attention on Kym. “I thought you were going out with that guy? The security guard?”

“I thought so too,” she drawls, clicking her tongue. “Turns out that we weren’t going out , we were just hanging out . As ‘friends.’ So, yeah, no more Mr. Security Guard. He always had the best snacks in his car though.” She shakes her head. “Such a shame.”

Ouch.

“Well,” she says before I can offer any response, “I should go work on some of the new fall graphics. Cynthia wants to see mockups by the end of the day.” She points a finger at me. “Can I come to you for a second opinion if I start thinking they’re all trash?”

Let it be known, Kym is the best graphic designer we have, and her designs are never “trash.”

“Of course,” I tell her anyway, “but I’m sure they’ll be amazing like always.”

“Shut up!” Her glossy lips form a pout as she starts walking backward away from me. “You’re my favorite work-bestie! I love you, mean it, you’re the bomb-dot-com.”

My eyebrows crease. “Do people still say that?”

She jabs a thumb at herself. “This person does, and I stand by my statement.”

And then she turns around before going over to her desk. Actually, she dance-walks to her desk, which makes sense because she told me once that 80s music plays in her head almost 24/7.

Ooh! A list of donuts that match each decade!

I write “another contest” first, followed by the “donuts and decades” idea.

Hmm, not too shabby. I wonder what else I can come up with…

Tatum

“The job is yours.” Zoya hands me my tablet back. “I was pretty certain yesterday, but now I’m convinced. You’re very talented, Tatum. I loved all the pictures.”

“Thank you, Zoya,” I tell her, slipping the tablet back into my bag, “and thank you for this incredible opportunity. I’ll do my best to capture all the important highlights from your party.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me. “And I’m also looking forward to seeing those engagement pictures.” She proceeds to sigh. “I’m just so happy for you and Skye. Being in love is such a beautiful thing.”

I know Skye was joking about Zoya smelling fear, but I’m really hoping that she can’t smell guilt —because I reek of that so badly right now.

“Thank you,” I say again, “we’re both really excited.”

“I’m sure you’re anxious to pop in and see her,” she says with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Feel free to do that, and I’ll have Johnny email you any additional information. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” I reply, standing up. “Thank you again, Zoya.”

She smiles, and I’m feeling guiltier by the second. “Thank you .”

I try not to make a mad dash for the door, but let’s just say I’m out of her office so fast that I almost trip over my own feet. Nice, Tatum .

Once I close the door behind me, I feel like I can finally breathe properly.

I got the job.

Which is fantastic.

I technically lied to get it though.

Which is less fantastic.

Is it really lying though if I could see myself with Skye one day?

When I told Skye about wanting to be crazy and in love with someone, obviously I was talking about her . I can’t imagine that happening with anyone but her.

I’m doing a horrible job with keeping that “what if?” possibility locked up.

I go ahead and stroll back toward the room where Skye was working, but when I peek through the window, she’s not sitting at her desk anymore. It’s still kind of early for a lunch break though. Maybe she went to the bathroom? But then I catch a flash of pink hair, and I realize that Skye is standing at another desk with one of the women from yesterday.

Kim, I think it was?

Either way, I slip into the room and park myself in the swivel chair at Skye’s desk. I’ll just wait here, have a quick convo with her, and then I’ll leave.

And then we’ll see each other later to take our fake engagement pictures.

I’m dreading them, in all honesty.

They shouldn’t even be that big of a deal. But after the “not kissing” yesterday, my conversation with Pops, and the way Skye felt in my arms when we hugged in the kitchen last night? These pictures are a HUGE deal.

I grunt in frustration as I scan Skye’s desk for something to distract me, but the girl hardly has anything out in the open besides a donut-printed notebook.

We’re best friends, but I’m not about to snoop through her stuff.

I do, however, grab the Dovell Donuts pen she has next to her notebook and click it a few times to ease my nerves.

“If you break my pen, things are going to get ugly really quick, Tatester.”

I crack a grin at the sound of her voice, and I lean my head back so I’m looking at her.

She’s gorgeous.

Most of her hair is down, but some of it is also wrapped up into…space buns? I think she’s called them that before. Regardless of their name, I think I might like them even more than her ponytail from last night.

“Hi,” I tell her, clicking the pen once more.

“Hi,” she echoes, resting her hands on the back of her chair. And then she lowers her voice as she leans in. “I think we have an audience.”

“Well,” I drawl, reaching up to tap her nose with the pen, “we are a pretty good-looking couple.”

A couple of friends . Yep, that’s us.

“I don’t like it,” she grumbles under her breath. “I feel like we’re reality TV stars, and they’re just dying to see what happens next.”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Wanna get out of here?”

She blinks. “What?”

“You can walk me out to my car, that way we won’t have much of an audience, but they’ll still have something to talk about.”

“I guess it would look good for us to be coupley,” she muses, eyeing Dria’s ring. “Okay, let’s do that.”

Why do I suddenly feel nervous?

It’s not like I suggested we make out or anything.

She’d probably slap me.

“Uh-uh.” Skye narrows her eyes at me when I stand up and start to step away from her desk. “Leave the pen. If you want one, you’ll have to earn it just like I did.”

I give her an unimpressed look. “Isn’t there a whole mug full of them in the office waiting section?”

“Shut up,” she huffs, nodding toward her desk. “Leave the pen.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I return the pen to the EXACT spot I grabbed it from. “I didn’t realize you were so attached to it. Should I be jealous?”

She widens her eyes at me. “ Extremely .”

“Too bad.” I slip my arm around her shoulders and pull her into a side-hug. “You’re mine. I’m not sharing you with a pen.”

But she’s not mine.

We’re just pretending.

Dang , does it feel real though when Skye leans her head against me as we leave the room.

“Don’t worry, Tate,” she says, looking up at me through those long eyelashes, “I’d choose you over the pen every time. Probably.”

“Probably?” I echo, pinching her arm. “What’s the pen got that I don’t have?”

“Lola.”

“What?” My eyebrows crease in confusion. “The pen has Lola ? What does that even mean?”

It literally doesn’t make any sense.

“No, Lola is watching us,” she hisses, squirming beside me. “I think she’s suspicious of the engagement.”

“Who’s Lola?” I ask, casually glancing around as we near the lobby.

“Seriously?” Skye lets out a muttered curse. “Our new intern. That girl who was being weird and clingy with you yesterday?”

Oh, her .

And maybe I’m just crazy, but Skye sounds—

No, there’s no way.

Skye couldn’t be jealous. She has no reason to be jealous.

The scowl on her face isn’t because of jealousy.

It can’t be.

I recognize Lola leaning against the reception counter as her gaze darts between us and her phone. Shouldn’t she be working right now?

“Do you think she realizes what we’re doing?” Skye asks, looking at me again. “Do you think she knows we’re faking?”

Lola locks eyes with me and bites her lip before wiggling her fingers in my direction.

It’s probably supposed to be a flirty wave, but it honestly just looks awkward.

There’s no missing the way Skye stiffens beside me.

“Pink Stuff—”

“Can you believe her?” Skye huffs as we near the building’s exit door. “She’s not even trying to be discreet about finding you attractive.”

If Skye really is jealous, does that mean she might have some non-friend feelings for me too? I have to find out.

I push open one of the doors with my free hand. “You think she finds me attractive?”

Skye’s brown eyes flash at me as she shakes my arm off, and then strides outside without saying a word.

She really doesn’t need to say anything, though, because I’m almost positive that Skye is jealous. Which is absurd, seeing as Lola has nothing on her.

I step outside as well, letting the door close behind me, and I try to think of what I should say to her. This is new territory for us, so I’m not really sure of the best way to handle what’s happening right now. But then Skye turns around to face me, her pink layers flipping over her shoulder, and speaks first. “Why are you playing crazy? You know that she’s into you, Tatum. All of Port Reina probably knows!”

All of Port Reina ? Okay, well, that’s a stretch for sure. But I’m just wondering how far she’s going with this…

I rest my back against one of the building’s columns. “And that bothers you?”

She looks caught off-guard at first, but then she crosses her arms. “Well, Lola did just turn eighteen a few months back and recently graduated high school.”

My gut is telling me her reaction isn’t just because of Lola’s age though.

Skye is jealous.

Am I a jerk for thinking that’s kind of hot?

“Ah, gotcha,” I say with a nod, “so it wouldn’t bother you if she was older?”

She scoffs at that. “I never said it bothered me!”

Despite her harsher tone, I can tell she’s out of sorts about the whole thing.

Her arms might be crossed, but her eyes are confused.

And now I feel bad for trying to provoke her. She probably doesn’t even realize that she’s jealous.

“Either way,” I drawl, spreading my hands, “I’m not interested in her. At all. Besides, I’ve got a fiancée.”

I offer a lopsided grin, hoping to ease her frustration, but she doesn’t notice.

She’s too lost in thought.

All right, time for a subject change.

“Aren’t you going to ask about my meeting with Zoya?” I ask, watching her expectantly.

“Yeah, of course!” And just like that, she snaps out of it. “I’m sorry, Tate. How did it go with Zoya?”

“It went well. She loved all the pictures I showed her, and I got the job, so—”

“That’s great!” Skye exclaims, grasping my arms and giving me a brief shake. “I knew she’d love them, how could she not?”

“She also mentioned the engagement pictures again,” I say for whatever reason, instead of just accepting her compliment. “You were right, she’s really into all that wedding stuff.”

Skye lets go of my arms, and I immediately miss her touch. “Hopefully, the pictures will keep her satisfied for a little bit.” She proceeds to sigh. “I guess I should probably get back in there.”

“Mmhmm,” I reply, pushing myself off the pillar, “I have a few errands to run anyway.”

Before I can overthink it, I pull her into a hug, because I need to keep her close.

Even if it’s only for another few seconds.

Her arms slide around my waist with a gentle squeeze. “I’ll see you later, Tatum.”

She releases me sooner than I’d like, but I try not to seem disappointed as she steps around me. “Hey, don’t work too hard, Carson. I can’t have you falling asleep on me for the engagement pictures.”

I glance back at her, and she makes a face at me with her nose scrunched up in the cutest way. “That was one time, Jacobs.”

“I’m just saying…” I trail off, strolling toward the parking lot. “I still have those yawning pictures.” Because they’re actually pretty adorable.

“I told you to delete those!” she whines as I continue to walk. “ Tatum !”

“You’re my favorite model!” I tell her over my shoulder. “Yawns and all, don’t forget it!”