Andrea sighs. She knows that Lance has made up his mind to make the blue cake, and nothing she says will dissuade him. She bites her lip and smiles.
“Let’s make it together,” she suggests.
“Together?” Lance teases, “Just what do you want to make with me?”
For a moment she doesn’t understand him. When she sees his flirtatious expression, she realizes he’s talking about making a baby. She glares at him.
“Be serious, there are a lot of people here,” she whispers.
“They don’t understand,” he responds.
Andrea glances at the chefs—they’ve come from all over the world, and if they do understand they professionally hide it. Then she looks at Robert who deliberately stares at the ceiling. Andrea ignores Lance’s comment and reaches out to take the frosting from him.
She doesn’t know how to ba
