The man who was running his hands through my hair jerked my head to the side and smeared it with a glob of gel. Annie snickered, watching me as she handed Willow a slice of apple pie and Wander a slice of peanut butter mousse. She grabbed a piece of strawberry pie for herself. “How’s it going over there, hot stuff?” Annie called. I sneezed as powder was fluffed over my nose. “Excellent.” “He is done, and he is gorgeous,” Mr. Hair and Makeup said as he handed me off to the photographer. “I need oil on him,” the photographer said without looking up from the camera. Every hand in the bakery went
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