Chapter 3: The Money She Never Received
“Mom, what money?””
Andre's voice was low.
Cynthia looked toward the reception entrance, where two relatives were laughing beside a floral arrangement.
“Not here.””
Andre didn't move.
“You just said Alicia agreed to make twelve cakes for free.””
“I said she didn't want anything in return.””
“Then why did Brielle say you collected money?””
Brielle slipped her phone into her handbag.
“It's not a big deal.””
Alicia turned toward her.
“Brielle, please explain.””
The younger woman sighed.
“Everyone contributed for tomorrow's refreshments. Mom collected the money so we could organize everything.””
“How much?””
Cynthia's jaw tightened.
“Enough.””
“Enough for what?””
“Don't interrogate me.””
Andre stepped between them.
“Mom, answer her.””
Cynthia looked genuinely offended.
“I cannot believe you're speaking to me this way at my own family event.””
Andre shook his head.
“This isn't about the event.””
“Then what is it about? Your fiancée standing here accusing me of stealing?””
Alicia's stomach tightened.
“I haven't accused you of anything.””
“Your tone says otherwise.””
Andre exhaled.
“Let's just get the facts.””
He turned to Brielle.
“How much did everyone contribute?””
Brielle hesitated.
Then she answered.
“Three hundred dollars each.””
Andre stared at her.
“Three hundred?””
“It's a lot of cakes.””
“How many people paid?””
“Six.””
Alicia did the calculation silently.
Eighteen hundred dollars.
For cakes she had supposedly agreed to provide for free.
She looked at Cynthia.
“Where did that money go?””
Cynthia gave an irritated sigh.
“Some of it went toward decorations, some toward the venue arrangements, and some toward the refreshments.””
“But the cakes are my responsibility?””
“You offered to make them.””
“I didn't.””
Cynthia's expression hardened.
“Must we keep repeating ourselves?””
Alicia nodded slowly.
“No. We don't.””
She placed her handbag on the nearby table and took out her phone.
Andre watched her.
“What are you doing?””
“Checking something.””
She opened her banking application.
For three days, she had been purchasing ingredients for the cakes.
Flour.
Butter.
Cream cheese.
Chocolate.
Fresh berries.
Special packaging.
The receipts were still in her email.
She turned the screen toward Andre.
“Look at this.””
He scanned the list.
Then his expression changed.
“You bought all this yourself?””
“Yes.””
“How much?””
“Almost four hundred dollars.””
Andre looked at his mother.
“Did you know she was paying for the ingredients?””
Cynthia didn't answer.
Instead, she reached for a glass of champagne.
“Wedding preparations are expensive. Everyone is contributing.””
Alicia looked at her.
“Everyone?””
“Yes.””
“Did you contribute the money for these cakes?””
Cynthia's fingers tightened around the stem of her glass.
“I'm not going to discuss household finances with you.””
Alicia almost laughed.
Household finances.
She wasn't even officially part of the household, apparently.
But she was expected to finance its celebrations.
Andre set his glass down.
“Mom, this is getting ridiculous.””
Cynthia turned sharply.
“You need to be careful, Andre.””
“With what?””
“With allowing someone to come between you and your family.””
Alicia looked at him.
There it was.
The familiar accusation.
The moment a boundary appeared, Cynthia transformed it into a family loyalty test.
Andre rubbed his forehead.
“Nobody is coming between us.””
“Then why are you questioning your own mother in front of your fiancée?””
“Because you're treating her unfairly.””
Cynthia gave a short, disbelieving laugh.
“Unfairly? I invited her. I welcomed her. I even allowed her to bring her cake to this event.””
Alicia looked at the display.
“Allowed me?””
Cynthia ignored her.
“I've been nothing but generous.””
Brielle nodded.
“Exactly. Alicia should appreciate that.””
Andre turned toward his sister.
“Brielle, you took her seat.””
“It was just a chair.””
“You also told everyone she agreed to make twelve cakes.””
“Mom organized that.””
“And you collected money for them?””
Brielle's face flushed.
“I helped Mom. What's wrong with that?””
Andre didn't answer.
Instead, he looked at Alicia.
“Do you still want to make the cakes?””
The question caught her off guard.
Not because it was complicated.
Because nobody had asked her what she wanted all evening.
Alicia looked down at her phone.
She remembered waking up before sunrise to prepare the first cake.
She remembered testing the raspberry filling three times because she wanted it to taste exactly right.
She remembered Andre standing in her kitchen, stealing spoonfuls of frosting and laughing when she caught him.
She had loved making things for him.
She still did.
But she was beginning to realize that his family had mistaken her affection for unlimited permission.
“I don't know yet,” she said.
Andre nodded.
“That's fair.””
Cynthia immediately stepped forward.
“Of course she knows. She's just upset.””
Alicia looked directly at her.
“I'm not upset because of the cakes.””
“Then what is it?””
“You took my name card.””
Cynthia blinked.
“You're bringing that up again?””
“Yes.””
“You were standing there doing nothing.””
“I was about to sit down.””
“And the guests needed help.””
“Then you could have asked me.””
Cynthia's lips parted.
Alicia continued.
“You didn't ask. You took my place, handed me a tray, and told me to serve everyone.””
Cynthia looked toward Andre.
“See? This is what I mean. Everything becomes a personal attack.””
Alicia shook her head.
“No, Cynthia. It became personal when you decided I wasn't family enough to sit with you, but I was family enough to work for you.””
Andre looked down.
Brielle suddenly became very interested in her phone.
For the first time that evening, Cynthia had no immediate comeback.
Then a familiar voice interrupted them.
“Cynthia? Is everything ready for tomorrow?””
An older woman approached the group.
She wore a navy-blue dress and carried a small silver clutch.
Cynthia's expression changed instantly.
“Oh, Eleanor! Yes, everything is perfectly arranged.””
Eleanor smiled at Alicia.
“Hello, sweetheart. I heard you're making the cakes. Your mother-in-law-to-be has been telling everyone how talented you are.””
Alicia forced a polite smile.
“Thank you.””
Eleanor looked toward the cake display.
“Are you bringing the same raspberry flavor tomorrow? My husband loved it.””
Cynthia answered immediately.
“Of course. Alicia is making all the cakes as a gift to the family.””
Eleanor nodded.
“How wonderful. I actually paid Cynthia three hundred dollars earlier. She said that would cover our family's share.””
Alicia went still.
Eleanor continued cheerfully.
“I hope I didn't misunderstand. She said the cakes were already arranged.””
Andre turned toward his mother.
“Mom?””
Cynthia's smile became strained.
“Eleanor, why don't we discuss that later?””
But Eleanor had already noticed the tension.
“Is something wrong?””
Alicia looked at Cynthia.
Then at Andre.
She didn't want to embarrass anyone.
She didn't want to turn a family gathering into a public confrontation.
But she also wasn't going to stand there and pretend that eighteen hundred dollars didn't exist.
“Mrs. Eleanor,” Alicia said carefully, “I haven't agreed to make those cakes yet.””
Eleanor's smile faded.
“Oh.””
She glanced at Cynthia.
“But you told us—”
“I know what I told you,” Cynthia interrupted.
Andre stepped forward.
“Mom, we need to be honest.””
Cynthia's eyes flashed.
“Not another word.””
The older woman looked between them.
Then she slowly opened her handbag.
“I still have the receipt.””
She pulled out a small folded piece of paper.
Alicia watched as Eleanor unfolded it.
There was a handwritten note beneath the amount.
Eighteen hundred dollars had been collected.
And next to the payment description was a name.
Not Cynthia's.
Not Andre's.
Not Brielle's.
It was Alicia's.
Eleanor looked confused.
“Why does this say the money was paid directly to Alicia?””
Andre took the receipt.
His face went pale.
Alicia stared at the handwriting.
She recognized the signature.
It wasn't hers.
May you like
And when she looked up at Cynthia, the older woman's pleasant expression had finally disappeared.
*Someone had signed Alicia's name to collect the money.*
