Sugar

Sugar: 9/10 Cup

"I hate it."

"You hate everything."

"No, but I seriously hate this."

Kahlia hid a smile behind a demure little sip of champagne.

It took three months of meticulous planning to come up with a menu Miss Bankfurth and Chef Hunter would enjoy for their engagement party.

Three. Months.

Kahlia had thought that she somewhat knew chef Garrett Hunter, but none of her acquaintances with him could have prepared her for the shock of her life.

He was incredibly nitpicky.

At the beginning, Obisani restaurant was not the only team responsible for catering to the couple's soirée. They had hired a few different renowned caterers with the idea that they could all work together to provide for the odd five hundred guests that would be attending the engagement party.

Apparently, both of them were social butterflies.

If she had ever thought that she could get to know Cora Bankfurth through Dorian, Kahlia was incredibly wrong. Firstly, Dorian didn't like to talk about his sister and secondly, he didn't have to.

Cora had taken it upon herself to make the Obisani crew her best friends, and this became even more prominent when the other catering groups began to be eliminated one by one. They hadn't even gotten through planning the menu yet.

When her restaurant was the only one left, Kahlia began suspecting that Cora wanted to be so close to her in order to ask for freebies from the kitchen. She'd taken to sampling literally everything she saw back there.

"No, you're wrong," Cora had said, looking into her eyes solemnly. "I want us to be close friends so I can convince you not to leave my blockhead brother in the future. I really like having you as a sister-in-law, Kahlia."

Kahlia had been completely speechless. Her sister-in-law had no shame at all.

Over the months, her relationship with Dorian had grown to a comfortable standpoint. They would leave things at each other's houses and spend their weekends together, or even hold hands in public, much to the paparazzi's delight.

With bad angles came bad rumours, but Kahlia didn't pay attention to those and Dorian couldn't find it in himself to give a single fuck. They were happy and that was that.

While her business had suffered a little bit, it ultimately pulled through. Kahlia Obisani was the nation's sweetheart, and how could her good friends not speak up for her in face of public backlash?

Slept with the food critic to get a good review? Seduced the ice-cold man to skyrocket her restaurant's name? Dream on, chumps!

"Look, look!" Cora turned her phone screen toward Kahlia with a scowl on her face. "This isn't the Pinterest board I sent for the wedding theme! I said royalcore, not faeriecore. I wear a size F bra and three sets of Spanx—do I look like a fucking faerie?"

Cora Bankfurth's face was like thunder, but it became sweet and docile at the approach of a woman dripping designer from head to toe, with a charming smile.

Her voice flew up to an interstellar pitch when she greeted her with, "Shika, I didn't know if you would make it!"

Shika Nårs just happened to be the second wedding planner Cora had on tap, just in case. She was a svelte Norse beauty with hair the same colour as her translucent skin and eyes like two ice cubes that had it out for global warming.

If anything, Kahlia had to admit that this woman she called her sister-in-law was incredibly well prepared, to the point where she had plans A through Q for every single thing she could think of.