The bakery was a revolting place, painted entirely in pastels, with nauseating paintings of flowers and weddings hanging everywhere. Gold's eyes narrowed as he looked around, finding the bakery nearly empty, excepting a few stragglers sampling a bundt cake.

The door opened and Belle French walked in, greeting him with a warm smile. She looked lovely today—wearing a butter yellow dress and a bright blue headband that kept her dark curls out of her face.

"Hello," Belle said a bit breathlessly. "Sorry I'm a bit late. Emma just called me. Poor baby—I'm sure he's fine."

Gold nodded, feeling his throat constrict. Before he could come up with anything to say, an elderly lady in a marigold-printed apron joined them.

"Are you Neal and Emma?" She asked, her eyes crinkling as she smiled.

Gold opened his mouth to correct her but Belle interrupted.

"Yes, we are," She beamed at the elderly lady, and to Gold's shock, she took his elbow. "You must be Francine. We're very much looking forward to picking out our wedding cake!"

"Of course you are," Francine giggled girlishly. "You just pick out a table, and I'll bring out the first samples! Would you like anything to drink?"

"Earl grey tea, please," Belle requested. "And you, darling?" She smiled mischievously at Gold who was trying to figure out what just happened.

"The same," He managed to rasp out and Francine nodded eagerly before disappearing into the back.

Immediately, Gold whirled towards Belle, who had released his arm and was calmly sitting down, wrapping her cloth-purse around her chair.

"What was—" He started and she smiled in understanding.

"If we'd told her that Neal and Emma had outsourced cake-tasting to us, she would've been offended. If she thinks we're the happy couple in love, she'll bring out the best cakes," She explained contentedly pulling out her planner and writing something down.

Gold digested this. "I suppose…that makes sense," He said reluctantly, taking a seat across from her.

Belle flashed him a smile. "Trust me, I've been in this business to know my way around. Sometimes subterfuge is necessary."

"How long have you been doing this?" He found himself asking curiously.

She thought a moment. "Around eight years," She finally confirmed, taking a sip of water. "I'm lucky that I get to do something I love for a living."

Gold snorted at that comment and she sniggered a little.

"What, is it that hard to believe I love what I do?" Belle wanted to know, crossing her arms.

"I can't believe anyone would undergo the stresses of planning a wedding without a hefty compensation," He allowed. "But actively enjoy it? I do find that hard to believe."

Belle laughed. She considered his words, a soft look growing on her face. "I believe in marriage. And I believe in its celebration—it's the big kick-start to the main event. I believe in making a day so wonderful, so special, that during those hard times that marriage inevitably brings, that couple can look back and remember why they fell in love in the first place." She smiled at him again and Gold watched her.

"Are you…are you married?" He asked hesitantly, feeling foolish for how he wanted the question answered.

Belle's expression fell a little as she glanced down at her bare hands. "I'm engaged," She said hesitantly. "It's…been a long engagement."

Gold hated how his stomach clenched at her reply. Of course she was engaged, why should he think any differently? She was beautiful, charming, whip-smart—it should come as no surprise that some young lad had snatched her up. Nevertheless, it made him grind his teeth a little.

But…his brow furrowed. Belle wore no engagement ring. Surely a wedding planner of all people would proudly display an engagement ring.

"Here we are!" Francine bustled out, pushing a rolling table filled to the brim with different slices of cake. "My very best for the happy couple!"

Gold caught Belle's eye at the latter comment and she smirked, winking.

"These look amazing, Francine," Belle said brightly, picking up a fork, and scooping a bit off the first plate. "What's this?"

"Chocolate almond, with chocolate ganache and mocha buttercream," Francine said proudly. "One of my favorites."

"Ooh, I love mocha," Belle replied enthusiastically. Gold watched as her soft, velvety lips closed over her fork. She chewed thoughtfully.

"Delicious," Belle said decidedly, licking her lips. "Want a bite?" She offered her fork to him.

Gold swallowed hard and carefully took her fork, feeling his stomach leap a little at the brush of her fingers. He had never been much for sweets, no, but suddenly the idea of dutifully eating whatever piece of cake Belle shared with him seemed like a fine notion.

He couldn't remember the taste of the cake, his eyes were too intently focused on Belle's as he chewed, wondering if he was imagining the slight pink in her cheeks. Nevertheless, decorum required him to swallow and murmur out, "A possibility."

"And this," Francine placed another slice before them. "This is lemon cake, with lemon curd and vanilla buttercream."

Belle took a bite. "Mmm," She closed her eyes in ecstasy. "You know darling, I am a big fan of buttercream...and that mocha buttercream was to die for."

Gold was of the opinion that the buttercream would be better served across Belle's lovely skin, but resisted the temptation to remark upon it. "Anything you want," He put in, a bit hoarsely.

"If you like the buttercream," Francine said eagerly. "You really must try the dark chocolate strawberry swirl with praline buttercream. It's my personal favorite!"

Belle's eyes gleamed. "I love dark chocoate," She sighed, taking the fork. "I like things that are bitterly sweet." A secretive smile lit up her face and Gold wondered at her words.

But Francine was right, the dark chocolate strawberry swirl was the best, the sweet tang of the strawberries a perfect counter to the smoky chocolate. The praline buttercream set everything off perfectly, though it was hard to register such thoughts as he watched Belle contentedly lick every trace of frosting off her fork.

"I think your favorite is just what we need, Francine," Belle smiled at the elderly lady. "It's unique and absolutely delicious."

"An excellent choice, Emma!" Francine crowed and Gold shifted uncomfortably. "Do you have a special design in mind?"

"Nothing super specific, though Neal and I do have a penchant for swans," Belle lied smoothly. "If that could be the theme—"

"Wonderful!" Francine bobbed her head excitedly. "We can certainly manage that."

"Excellent," Belle pulled out her battered planner and ripped out a small piece of paper. "If we can have it by this date, that would be amazing."

As they exited the bakery, Belle stretched a little.

"Well," She said with a smile. "That didn't take nearly as long as I thought it would. Shall we get a bite to eat? There's a lunch truck nearby. It's a beautiful day, we could eat on a bench."

Gold gazed at her with some trepidation. "You're not…expected anywhere else?" He asked slowly, thinking of her engagement.

Belle's smile faltered a little. "No…not at the moment," She replied carefully and his eyebrow rose. There was something about this engagement she was keeping from him—though he couldn't imagine what.

"Very well," Gold cleared his throat. "Lunch sounds like a fine idea." In truth, he had absolutely no time for lunch, but he was willing to turn off his phone and ignore business affairs in exchange for Belle's company.

The lunch truck served gyros—perhaps not the finest cuisine, but they were tasty and filling. Belle chose a bench that overlooked a nearby park, contentedly munching her gyro as Gold awkwardly joined her.

"So," Belle took a sip of her iced tea. "Emma said that you hate her."

Gold chewed thoughtfully. "It's hard to hate the mother of your grandson," He said finally, observing Belle's reaction carefully.

But the reminder of his age didn't seem to faze her. "But I'm guessing she's not your favorite person?"

Gold coughed a little. "Her family and my family have had—difficulties over the years."

"You didn't approve of her," Belle guessed. "At the beginning anyway."

He gave her a sideways smile. "It's hard to approve of the accomplice on my son's various acts of rebellion," He remarked, taking another bite of his gyro. "When Neal totaled my '66 Corvette when he was sixteen, Emma was in the passenger seat. When Neal cut school, Emma always accompanied him. If I woke up in the middle of the night and found my son's bedroom empty, I could be reasonably certain that Emma Nolan's bedroom would be empty as well."

Belle laughed. "So they were partners in crime together when they were teenagers," She took another sip of iced tea. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

"Needless to say," Gold continued, deciding to ignore how relaxed he felt around her. "I was inclined to blame Emma for my charming son's behavior and the Nolans were inclined to blame Neal for her bad behavior. We were not very pleasant with each other—naturally, our enmity only made Neal and Emma want to be together more."

"Well, there's nothing more tempting to teenagers than living out their own Romeo and Juliet fantasy," Belle remarked and Gold chuckled in response. "You should count yourself lucky that they will have a better ending."

"Well, let's hope so," Gold humored her.

"Ah, I forgot," Her eyes sparkled. "You're not a big believer in marriage, right?"

"Experience has taught me better than to believe in idealistic fantasies," He snorted. The biting comment should've offended her, but if anything, Belle just looked more amused.

"Careful, Mr. Gold," She said idly, finishing off the rest of her gyro. "That reeks of bitterness."

Gold couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Perhaps so," He acknowledged. "My memories of Neal's mother are not exactly pleasant."

"And you've never…thought of getting married again?" Belle questioned, her eyes filled with sympathy.

He was quiet for a long moment. "Once," Gold replied slowly. "I was engaged. I thought—but it wasn't real." He concentrated his attentions on the last bit of his own gyro. He didn't want to think about Cora right now.

"I'm sorry," Belle said quietly. She dared to close her small palm over his and squeeze it gently.

Gold stared at her pale hand for a long while before coming to his senses. "And what about you?" He cleared his throat. "You're engaged. Do you hire someone else to plan your wedding or do you do it yourself?"

Again, that strange look fell over her usual cheerful face. She looked almost downcast at the mention of her engagement.

"I haven't thought about it," Belle said carefully. "I should probably get going. It was nice eating lunch with you, Mr. Gold. I'll let Emma and Neal know what we've decided." She stood briskly, wiping the crumbs from her dress. Gold watched her helplessly, feeling as though he'd upset her, though he couldn't fathom the reason why.

"I'll see you later," Belle gave him a cheery wave and a tight smile that didn't meet her eyes. He watched her walk away, wondering what he'd done wrong.