Chapter Twenty
Elliott had always prided herself on her ability to compartmentalize. Feelings in one box, work in another, inconvenient attractions to blonde bakers in a third box shoved to the back of a mental cupboard.
That strategy had worked beautifully right up until she'd kissed Julia Richardson.
Now, a few days later, she was finding it impossible to maintain any semblance of professional distance when Julia kept doing things like existing. And smiling. And being generally adorable.
Case in point: closing time, Julia wiping down the counter while humming something off-key, a smudge of flour on her cheek. Elliott should have been prepping tomorrow's bake. Instead, she was leaning against the kitchen doorframe, watching Julia like some lovesick teenager.
Pathetic.
"You've got flour," Elliott said. "On your face."
Julia looked up, blinking. "Where?"
"Everywhere, basically." Elliott crossed the shop floor before she could think better of it. "Here."
She reached out and brushed her thumb across Julia's cheekbone. Julia's breath caught. Her eyes went soft and warm, and Elliott found herself leaning closer, drawn in like gravity was conspiring against her.
"Elliott..."
"You're very distracting," Elliott murmured. "It's annoying."
"Sorry?"
"Don't apologize. It's also..." She searched for the right word. "Nice. Annoyingly nice."
Julia laughed. "Annoyingly nice. Interesting turn of phrase."
"I told you. Distant and cold. I'm working on it. For me, that’s world class romance.
" She was going to kiss her. Right here in the shop, in full view of the windows, like someone who had feelings and wasn't afraid to show them.
Who even was she anymore? Or, more importantly, what had Julia done to her?
Maybe she was a witch. A very attractive witch.
The bell above the door chimed.
"Darling!"
Elliott jerked back so fast she nearly knocked over a display stand. Gabby Richardson stood in the doorway, resplendent in emerald silk. She looked irritatingly good in green. Elliott would have looked like a seasick mermaid in it.
"Mum!" Julia's voice went up approximately three octaves and her body stiffened, Elliot could feel it. "What are you doing here?"
"In the neighborhood. Remember?" Gabby's eyes flicked between them, cataloguing the minimal distance, Elliott's hand still hovering near Julia's face, the general atmosphere of interrupted intimacy. "Or am I interrupting something?"
"No," Julia said.
"Yes," Elliott said at the same time.
For once she actually was. Something real. Real enough that Elliott was still feeling very warm inside and somewhat… squishy. Not a word she’d ever used in reference to herself before.
Gabby's perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose. "How interesting."
She swept into the shop, her critical gaze moving across the empty display cases, the clean counters, the closed sign that Julia had just flipped.
"I thought we could have dinner," Gabby announced. "The four of us. You, Julia, Elliott, and that charming Jamie from next door." Her smile widened in a way that made Elliott deeply uncomfortable. "I've already texted him. He's expecting us."
"You texted Jamie?" Julia looked horrified. "Without asking us first?"
"Spontaneity is the spice of life, darling. You should try it sometime. And it’s good for young lovebirds to get out occasionally." Gabby was already heading for the door. "Come along. I've made reservations."
"At Jamie's restaurant?" Elliott asked. "You made reservations at the restaurant next door?"
"One should always make reservations. It shows respect for the establishment." Gabby paused at the threshold. "Five minutes. Don't dawdle."
The door closed behind her.
Julia turned to Elliott with an expression of pure panic. "What do we do?"
"Apparently, we go to dinner."
"But we're not prepared! We haven't rehearsed! What if she asks questions we haven't covered?"
Elliott reached out and took Julia's hand. It felt natural now, the way their fingers interlaced. "Then we tell the truth."
"The truth?"
"The version of it that won't get us both murdered, anyway." Elliott squeezed gently. "We've got this. We're practically professionals at this point. Because…" She took a breath. "Because this is a bit real now, isn’t it?"
Julia nodded, then grinned. "I suppose it is. I’d almost forgotten."
"Charming." Elliott sniffed, then smiled. "Anyway, your mother is currently far more interested in Jamie than she is in us."
Julia groaned.
Elliott tugged her toward the door. "Come on. How bad can it be?"
Famous last words, as it turned out.
THE RESTAURANT WAS warm and golden, candles flickering on white tablecloths. The kind of ambiance that suggested romance and conversations that didn't involve your girlfriend's terrifying mother interrogating you.
Not that Julia was her girlfriend. Not officially. They hadn't discussed labels. Elliott didn’t think she liked labels.
Jamie met them at the door with the fixed smile of a man walking into an ambush. "Welcome. Your table's ready."
"How lovely." Gabby swept past him. "Though I’m sure you were instructed to join us. You won’t let me down, will you?" She put a finger under Jamie’s chin and raised his eyes to hers, practically purring.
Jamie shot Elliott and Julia a look that clearly said help me. Elliott pretended not to notice.
"Right, yes," Jamie squeaked. "I hate you both," he whispered to Julia and Elliott as Gabby waltzed off to their table.
The corner booth was intimate and secluded. Gabby slid in first, patting the seat beside her while looking at Jamie. Julia and Elliott took the opposite side, pressed together in a way that felt almost natural now.
"Wine," Gabby declared. "Something red. Expensive."
Jamie grimaced at Julia and Elliott, then fled toward the bar.
Gabby turned her attention to Elliott and Julia. "So. What’s new in the land of newly found love?"
Under the table, Julia's hand found Elliott's. "Nothing," Elliott said firmly.
"Not a thing," Julia agreed, her fingers pressing into Elliott’s.
Gabby leaned forward. "Hmmm. I’m not entirely sure I believe that." She leaned back again. "I believe that traditionally, I’m supposed to enquire about your intentions toward my daughter."
"Mum," Julia said. "Stop it."
"Well, your father isn’t around to ask that kind of question. So the onus falls onto me," Gabby said. She turned to Elliott. "Which is the problem with marrying a flaky man with a dubious title who flees to a Caribbean island at the first possible opportunity."
Elliott could understand wanting to flee from Gabby Richardson, despite the fact that she was incredibly beautiful.
"He went for tax reasons," Julia filled in. "As you well know."
"Taxes and a blonde with big—"
"Honorable," Elliott said, finally catching up with the conversation and thinking she’d better stop things before they started. "My intentions are nothing but honorable." Julia's hand tightened on hers. Elliott glanced over to find Julia staring at her with an unreadable expression.
"Ah," said Gabby. Then a wolfish smile appeared on her face. "I wish I could say the same."
She was watching Jamie walk toward the booth with a bottle of wine, and Elliott rolled her eyes.
"A lovely Burgundy. Shall I pour?"
"Please." Gabby's attention shifted to him. "And do sit down, Jamie."
"I'm really not—"
"I insist."
Jamie sat with the expression of a man who had accepted his fate.
The dinner that followed was a masterclass in how not to double date.
Or single date, for that matter. Gabby asked pointed questions; Elliott and Julia answered with truths that felt easier now.
Yes, they'd had disagreements. Yes, the living situation had been tense at first. But they'd figured it out. Were still figuring it out.
But all the time, Gabby’s eyes were on Jamie. Watching his fork disappear into his mouth, watching his hands clasp his wine glass. Privately, Elliott thought that Gabby was laying it on a bit thick, an opinion that Jamie seemed to agree with.
Just as dessert appeared, Jamie winced and then reached down under the table. "I think you’ll find that that was my leg, Mrs. Richardson."
"I know," said Gabby. "And if I have to tell you again to call me Gabby, then I’ll be most insulted."
"Gabby," Jamie said, and Elliott could hear him swallow hard.
They made it through dessert and coffee and cheese and, really, Elliott thought that she and Julia could have been dancing naked on the table by this point and Gabby wouldn’t have noticed a thing.
She had eyes only for Jamie. Which was probably a good thing, it took the attention off her and Julia, if nothing else.
It was after ten when Gabby finally turned to Jamie with a smile that had shifted from predatory to something almost vulnerable. "Jamie, darling, would you walk me to my car? I find I'm rather tired."
"Of course." Jamie rose, shooting Elliott and Julia a look that Elliott thought she’d seen once in a horror film, right before the heroine went down the basement stairs to meet the serial killer. "I'll just be a moment."
They disappeared toward the front, leaving Elliott and Julia alone in the booth.
"Do you know, I think she actually believes us now," Julia said.
"Why wouldn’t she?" Elliott asked.
"I suppose you’re right. But it does simplify things a bit, doesn’t it? I mean, I know that there are still a few… things to work out, but…"
"Things to work out?" Elliott said with a laugh. "My love, you know that communication isn’t just for romantic relationships, right? At some point, you’re going to have to tell your mum the truth about who you are and what you want and don’t want in life.
You can’t just… live in a bakery with me forever.
" The second those words were out of her mouth, Elliott regretted them.
Julia sighed and shook her head. Elliott clasped her hand tight under the table. One day at a time, they’d said. Baby steps. And here she was bringing up the future.
They were rescued from any further serious talk by Jamie reappearing, sliding into the booth with the haunted expression of a man who'd seen things. "Help me," he said.
"What happened?"
"She kissed me. Again." Jamie buried his face in his hands. "At her car. She wants dinner. Just the two of us. She used the word 'intimate.'"
Elliott snorted.
Julia raised her eyebrows. "You… kissed my mum?"
Jamie groaned. "It was the other night. We’d had a bottle and a half of wine and… And it’s very hard to say no to her."
"Tell me about it," Julia said.
"And she is very attractive," Jamie added.
"And she is Julia’s mum," said Elliott.
"She's not just that, she’s Gabby Richarson! She could destroy my career with a single review!"
"Or make it," Julia pointed out.
Jamie groaned again. "You're not helping. I don’t think you should be encouraging me to date your mother. It’s weird."
Elliott laughed. "You've been watching us fumble through this fake dating thing for weeks. Consider this karma."
They settled the bill and said their goodnights. Jamie locked up, still muttering about self-sabotage, and Elliott and Julia found themselves on the quiet high street.
The night was cool and clear. Elliott slipped her hand into Julia’s without even thinking about it.
"That was… interesting," Julia offered.
"That’s one way of putting it." Elliott looked up at the starry sky. "I hope your mum doesn’t eat Jamie."
"She might," Julia said. "But I’m not completely convinced that Jamie wouldn’t like it. Anyway, the two of us might be a mess with no plan as to what we’re getting into together, but at least we're in a better place than Shay and Jamie, right?
" Julia glanced up at her. "Shay's juggling three people and Jamie's being pursued by my mother. Comparatively, we're functional."
Elliott laughed. "That's a low bar."
"Still a bar we're clearing."
They walked in comfortable silence. Elliott found herself matching her pace to Julia's. When had that become automatic?
Maybe she could get used to this, she thought. The hand-holding. The quiet walks home. Having someone who actually wanted to be there.
Maybe she wasn't as bad at relationships as she'd always thought. Huh. That was a turn up for the books.