I pulled into a parking spot and took a deep breath. What was I doing here? Okay, so I knew what I was doing. I was bringing moist, delicious, award-winning brownies to the wedding rehearsal of a woman I’d known for years and always disliked, in the pathetic grand ballroom of a three-star hotel. It was a long fall from the Best-in-State hotel restaurant in Chicago where I’d created cakes and pastries for the past nine years. I tried not to let that bother me.