Chapter 21 Now
Twenty-One
Now
Mae wiped down the counter for the fourth time, the cloth making tight, angry circles she couldn’t seem to stop.
Neil stood in front of her, his face primed for bullshit. ‘Mae, sweetheart,’ he began.
‘Don’t call me sweetheart,’ Mae snapped.
Neil blinked. ‘Right. Okay. Fine. Mae. We just need to talk through tomorrow’s plan.’
‘There is no tomorrow’s plan,’ Mae said, folding the cloth and setting it down with deliberate calm. ‘We had an agreement. You get your footage today. Today, Neil. That was the deal. Sam didn’t show. That’s not my problem.’
‘It wasn’t anyone’s fault,’ Neil said, palms lifted in peacekeeping. ‘If you don’t count the tanning consultant. Come on. You were brilliant today. We just need another half day when Sam arrives tomorrow—’
‘No,’ Mae said, sharply enough that Neil actually flinched. ‘I can’t keep shutting the place down because someone’s fake tan malfunctioned.’
‘We’d compensate you generously,’ he said quickly. ‘We’re not unreasonable.’
Mae gave a humourless snort. ‘You think this is about money?’
Neil hesitated. ‘Yes?’
Mae stared at him until he looked away.
‘We agreed one day,’ she said. ‘One. I wouldn’t have done it if I’d thought it would stretch to two.’
‘It’s just a morning,’ he said desperately. ‘We’d be finished by lunch. You could open for the afternoon.’
‘And who’s doing prep while you’re filling every corner of my kitchen with lights?’ Mae asked. ‘Who’s shaping the fifty-odd loaves that need baking before midday? You?’
Neil’s lips twitched. ‘Well… no.’
‘Right.’ Mae folded her arms.
But this wasn’t about bread. The real truth was that she couldn’t do another day of this. Another day of Callie in her kitchen. Another day of remembering things she had forcibly unremembered for more than a decade.
Neil tried again. ‘Mae, if I don’t get this filming completed, the whole segment falls apart. Please. Help me out.’
‘No,’ Mae said, steady and final. ‘I want to be paid for today. And that’s the end of it.’
‘You looked good, if that’s the trouble. I mean, you and Callie, together? It was really nice stuff.’
Mae wasn’t going down this road. ‘I don’t—’
‘You had chemistry. It was telly gold.’
The silly bastard didn’t know he’d pissed her off even more.
‘This isn’t about how I looked,’ she told him, anger increasing. She was ready to physically eject him from the premises.
‘Okay, why don’t you sleep on it? Well, don't sleep on it. Rest on it. For an hour. Half an hour. I could ring you in twenty—’
OK, there it was. Limit reached. She started pushing him out the door. He let himself be pushed. ‘No problem, got things to do anyway. We’ll talk later—’
Mae slammed the door. She almost hit him in the nose. He laughed ingratiatingly from the other side of the glass. ‘That was a close one,’ he called through.
Mae turned away. She heard his footsteps piss off at long last.
The moment he was gone, Mae’s shoulders slumped like someone had cut a string. This wasn’t about schedules. This wasn’t about lost business, or inconvenience, or the fact that a TV crew kept putting their elbows on her surfaces.
This was about someone yanking open a door she’d spent years nailing shut. About how she’d seen Callie laugh one good, real Callie laugh and felt eighteen again.
No. Mae couldn’t do another day of that.
She turned off the lights, one by one, until the bakery was dim and hers again. ‘Tomorrow,’ she muttered, locking the door. ‘Not a chance.’
Back Then
For a second, Mae honestly thought she’d imagined it. There was no way that Callie Price’s mouth had just been on hers.
‘Did you just—’
‘Yes,’ Callie whispered.
Mae stared at Callie’s face, at her lips, still close enough that if Mae leaned forward the tiniest bit, they’d touch again. She could still feel the imprint of that soft press.
‘You can’t…’ She swallowed. ‘Callie, you can’t do that.’
A flicker of hurt crossed Callie’s face. She ducked her head. ‘If you don’t want me to, I won’t. I promise. I just… I had to know if—’
‘If what?’ Mae snapped, sharper than she meant. She was going to be sick. Or cry. Or pass out. Possibly all three. ‘You can’t just… kiss me out of boredom.’
Callie looked her right in the eye. ‘That’s not what I did.’
Mae should have seen the sincerity in it. But the trouble was, she was freaking out. It made seeing what was in front of her face difficult. Impossible, actually.
‘I’ve watched you with people for years, remember? I know what you’re like when you’re working out whether you fancy someone. You get a bit intense for a bit, and then you move on. That’s fine. That’s you. But I’m not—’
She broke off, realising that breathing was not coming naturally. ‘I’m not something you can just try on to see how it fits.’
Silence settled between them. The bakery hummed softly around them, fridges ticking. Callie’s gaze didn’t leave her.
‘You think I’m that shallow?’ Callie asked. You couldn’t miss the hurt in her.
Mae opened her mouth, closed it again. Her thoughts were running in too many directions at once, like a dog strapped into roller skates.
‘I told you I loved you and I meant it. But you… You’re Callie. You don’t do this. Love is a joke to you.’
‘I’m not laughing now,’ Callie told her.
For a few seconds, both of them had the good sense to shut the hell up. But the peace couldn’t last.
‘I don’t know what I’m doing,’ Callie said. ‘But I know I went on that date last night, and I was determined to kiss Emma. And the whole time I was there, all I could think about was you. Upset with me. Possibly done with me.’
Mae's hands tightened into clenched fists. ‘And you didn’t…’
‘No,’ Callie said quickly.
Mae swallowed. ‘That doesn’t mean you—’
‘I think it does actually,’ Callie said, almost sadly.
‘I think that’s exactly what it means. Because I can’t imagine any place I’d rather be than sat on this linoleum, next to you.
’ She paused thoughtfully. ‘I wonder when it happened. When we were little? Or more recently? What was the exact moment I fell in love with you?’
The word hit Mae like a physical thing.
She turned her head slowly. ‘Don’t say that.’
Callie blinked. ‘What?’
‘Don’t say “love” if you don’t mean it,’ Mae warned Callie. ‘Don’t say it on a whim. I’m in far too deep for that. You’ll break me, and I won’t glue back together. I know it.’
Callie took a breath, then another, then gave up pretending she wasn’t shaking.
‘Mae… has it occurred to you that you’re the reason everyone else has been a joke to me?
I mean, we’ve known each other since we were five.
That’s bone-deep knowing. Like, I know that you will save me the sunny seat in the library.
I know that you’ll complain about coming to the hairdresser's with me, but you’d never not come.
I know you’ll give me the last crisp from your packet of salt and vinegar. ’
‘Yes, we’ve established that I would do anything for you,’ Mae said miserably.
‘It’s not just the things you do for me,’ Callie said quietly.
‘It’s you. The way you get this spark in your eyes when you’re arguing about something you care about.
The way you laugh like it surprises you every time.
How you’re the most sarcastic person in the world, but when someone needs kindness, you give it without hesitation.
How you go soft around animals but pretend you don’t.
I like who you are when you don’t think anyone’s looking. ’
Callie sighed, deep and long. ‘I think all that has been a problem for me for some time now. Because it turns out, apparently, you’re not supposed to compare every single person you meet to your best friend.’
Mae shut her eyes. It was too much. ‘Callie…’
Callie slid her shoulder closer and leaned her head on Mae’s shoulder, electrifying every nerve in Mae’s body. ‘And if you tell me to stop, I will. I’ll never bring this up again. I’ll go on dates with boring people and pretend I’m not thinking about you the whole time.’
‘Callie—’
‘But if you don’t tell me to stop…’ Her voice dipped, soft and terrified. ‘Then I’m going to kiss you again. Properly this time. Because I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything.’
Mae’s pulse roared in her ears. ‘I don’t want you to kiss me again,’ she breathed.
Callie’s head jerked up, eyes wide and wounded. ‘Oh.’
Mae swallowed, leaned in, and placed her hand on Callie’s jaw. ‘I want to kiss you.’
Mae closed the distance, kissing Callie like she’d been holding back for years. Because she had. Her fingers slid into Callie’s hair, pulling her closer, and Callie sighed into her mouth.
The world dropped away. The cold linoleum, the ticking fridges, the humming lights—all of it disappeared.
Callie kissed her back with the same urgency, like she’d been waiting just as long. Their foreheads bumped, breath tangling, and Mae didn’t care.
She was kissing the love of her life.