Chapter Thirty-Two
Elliott was gone.
Julia stood in the kitchen doorway, staring at the evidence of her presence like a detective at a crime scene.
Flour dusted the worktop. The industrial mixer had been cleaned and returned to its proper position.
The display cases out front were filled with croissants and pain au chocolat and those lemon tarts with the torched meringue tops that Julia definitely didn't steal from the display case on a regular basis.
Elliott had been here. Elliott had baked. And Elliott had left without saying a word.
Julia's heart, which had done something embarrassingly agile when Elliott had walked through the door earlier, now sank somewhere around her knees.
She'd felt such a rush of hope when she'd seen her.
Elliott coming back, Elliott facing this mess together, Elliott saying "we both made this" like they were still a team.
And then… nothing. Radio silence. A kitchen full of pastries and an empty flat upstairs.
"She left about half an hour ago," Tom said from behind her. "Out the back. Didn't say anything."
"Right." Julia's voice came out steadier than she felt. "Of course she did."
Tom gave her one of those looks that suggested he was resisting the urge to bang their heads together. "You two are exhausting, you know that?"
"So I've been told."
Julia made a decision. Standing around moping wasn't going to fix anything, and she'd done quite enough of that lately. "Can you manage the shop for a bit? I need to go see Jamie." At least Jamie might be somewhat sympathetic to her plight. Tom was the least sympathetic person on Earth.
Tom waved her off. "Go. Sort yourself out. We don’t want you scaring customers off with your sad penguin impression."
"I don't look like a—" Julia caught sight of her reflection in the glass of the display case. Okay, maybe a little bit penguin. "Fine. I'm going. Sad penguin, indeed."
SHE FOUND JAMIE in the restaurant kitchen, staring at his phone with a look of absolute horror on his face.
"What’s got into you?" Julia asked, sliding up to sit on a metal counter.
Jamie held up the phone. The screen showed a text from "Gabby Richardson" that included three wine glass emojis and a suggestion about dinner that made Julia want to bleach her eyeballs. "Jesus, Jamie, that’s my mother we’re talking about here. "
"She's relentless," Jamie said weakly. "I've tried being polite. I've tried being busy. I've tried pretending I've joined a monastery. Nothing works."
"Ah. That's because you haven't actually told her no."
Jamie looked at her like she'd suggested he wrestle an alligator. "She's Gabby Richardson. THE Gabby Richardson. She could destroy my career with a single bad review, remember."
"She could," Julia agreed. "But she won't. And even if she tried, is this really how you want to live? Hiding from your phone? Dreading every notification?"
"It's not that bad."
"Jamie." Julia fixed him with a look. "You just told me you pretended to join a monastery."
He had the grace to look embarrassed. "It was a silent order. Very exclusive. She seemed almost impressed."
Julia held out her hand. "Give me the phone."
He scowled at her. "What? No. Why?"
Julia shook her head at him. "Because enough is enough. Because you're going to call her. Right now. And you're going to tell her, politely but clearly, that you're not interested and that she needs to stop."
Jamie went pale. "Julia, I can't…"
"You very much can." She kept her hand extended. "I'll be right here. Moral support. But you have to do this yourself."
For a long moment, Jamie just stared at her. Then, with the expression of a man walking to his own execution, he pushed her hand away, took the phone himself, and dialed.
Julia watched him pace the kitchen as the phone rang. Once. Twice. Then…
"Gabby. Hi. It's Jamie." His voice cracked slightly on the name. "Yes, I got your message. All of them, actually. That's why I'm calling."
He paused, listening, and Julia saw his shoulders tense.
"I'm very flattered," he said carefully. "Truly. But I need to be honest with you. I'm not interested in pursuing anything romantic. I should have said so clearly from the start, and I apologize for not being direct."
Another pause. Longer this time. Julia held her breath.
"I understand you're disappointed," Jamie continued, his voice growing steadier.
"And I hope we can still have a professional relationship.
But I won't be available for dinner. Or drinks.
Or any of the other suggestions." He winced slightly.
"Yes, including that one. I'm sorry, Gabby. I wish you all the best."
He hung up and stood there for a moment, phone clutched in his hand, breathing like he'd just run a marathon.
Then he looked at Julia, and his face broke into an enormous grin.
"I did it," he said, half-laughing. "I actually did it. I said no to Gabby Richardson."
Julia grinned at him. "And how do you feel?"
"Terrified." He set the phone down on the counter. "And also… amazing? Like I've been holding my breath for months and I've finally exhaled."
Julia nodded slowly, something clicking into place.
Jamie must have seen it on her face because he pointed at her. "Don't think I don't see the irony here. You just made me do exactly what you've been refusing to do."
"That's different." She shifted uncomfortably on the countertop.
"Is it?" Jamie crossed his arms. "Julia, I just watched you coach me through being honest with someone I was afraid of.
What else can I do but tell you to take your own advice?
You can't keep living your life for other people.
You can't keep twisting yourself into knots trying to make everyone else comfortable. "
"I know." She looked down at her hands. She did know. She knew that it was getting harder and harder to live her life when really, she should be happy at almost thirty, she should be building a life she wanted to live.
"Do you know? Because from where I'm standing, you're still waiting for permission to go after what you actually want."
Julia opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. He wasn't wrong.
"What is it you want?" Jamie asked softly, taking a step toward her. "Forget your mum. Forget the bakery. Forget what anyone else thinks. What do you actually want?"
The answer came so quickly it surprised her. "Elliott." That was it. Nothing else. Not nursing, not selling the bakery, not never dealing with her mother again. Just Elliott. She’d known from the second Elliott had walked back into the bakery that her life could never be complete without her in it.
Jamie raised an eyebrow. "And?"
She swallowed. "And what?"
"Why her? What is it about Elliott specifically that makes her worth all this? A few months ago, she was just a random stranger."
Julia took a breath and thought about it.
Really thought about it. "Because she makes me want to be better," she said slowly.
"Stronger. More… real. When I'm with her, I don't want to be the version of myself that just agrees with everyone and smiles and pretends everything's fine.
I want to be the version that actually says what she thinks.
That fights for things. That matters. She makes me… more than myself. In a good way."
Jamie was quiet for a moment. Then he smiled, softer this time.
"Then that's what you need to show her," he said.
"Not tell her. Show her. Grand gestures, public declarations.
Traditionally, you're supposed to chase people through airports and make speeches in the rain.
The whole ridiculous romance novel thing. "
"I'm not sure Elliott would appreciate being chased through an airport. Also, I don’t think she’s going anywhere, which would probably make that harder."
"Probably. But the principle stands." Jamie shrugged. "You need to prove you've changed. Words are easy. Actions are harder."
Julia nodded, her mind already spinning. She didn't have a plan yet. Didn't know what the right gesture would be. But for the first time in days, she felt something other than hopeless.
"Yeah. Yeah, maybe you’re right. Thank you," she said. "For everything."
"Thank me by actually doing something about it." Jamie started pulling ingredients from the fridge. "Now go away. I have a restaurant to run, and you've got a woman to woo."
"God, I hate that word," Julia said. But she jumped down from the counter. She had plans to make. Serious ones.
WHEN JULIA GOT back to the bakery, Tom was reorganizing the display case with the focus of a surgeon.
"Good visit?" he asked without looking up.
"Productive." Julia hung up her jacket. "Jamie finally told my mother he's not interested."
Tom's eyebrows shot up. "Seriously? Good for him. How'd she take it?"
"Hard to say. But he seemed relieved." Julia paused. "Like a weight had been lifted."
"Funny how honesty does that." Tom straightened up, brushing crumbs from his apron. "Speaking of which, um, I hope you don’t mind, but I've been doing some digging."
"Digging?"
He sniffed. "Into Candice." Tom's expression shifted to something almost gleeful. "I couldn’t just let her slander you both, well, us all, really. So I’ve been having a bit of a look around. Keeping an eye out and an ear open, you know."
"And?" Julia said, unsure of where this was going.
"And," Tom said with a grin, "you know how she's been so smug about her 'authentic artisan baking'? Turns out she's been using frozen pre-baked goods. Just heating them up and passing them off as homemade."
Julia stared at him. "You're joking."
"I am not. Got it from Pratesh, who delivers for the catering supplier. She orders industrial quantities of frozen croissants, frozen Danish, frozen everything. Her entire bakery is basically a very expensive toaster."
Julia didn't know what to do with that information. Part of her wanted to laugh. The irony of Candice exposing their deception while hiding her own was almost too perfect. Part of her felt a strange sort of kinship. Candice, like her, had been pretending to be something she wasn't.
"Does everyone have secrets?" Julia asked, half to herself. "Is lying just… what humans do?"
Tom considered this. "Maybe. But there's a difference between hiding who you are and hiding what you do." He shrugged. "Candice chose to lie about her products. You were lying about yourself. One of those is fixable."
Julia tucked the information about Candice away in her mind. She didn't know if she'd ever use it. Didn't know if she wanted to. But it was there, waiting, just in case.
Right now, she had bigger things to figure out.
Like how to show Elliott Sinclair that she'd finally learned how to be brave.