14. Chapter 14
Gigi
The bell over the bakery door jingles, and a moment later, Ella storms in like a woman on a mission.
"I'm here," she says, not even bothering with hello. Her hair’s still damp from a rushed shower, and she’s got a duffel bag slung over one shoulder and purpose in her eyes. “Tell me who to yell at.”
I blink at her. “You just missed him.”
“What happened? Start from the beginning.”
So I do. I tell her about the phone call with my mother, the bonus, Phoenix’s betrayal, everything—right up to the moment I kicked him out of my bakery. By the time I finish, my hands are shaking and I feel wrung out, like a towel that's been twisted too tight.
Ella’s quiet for a second, absorbing it all.
“So he was paid to convince you to take a job with Hart Health?”
“Yep.”
“And you think that means everything between you was fake.”
“Obviously.” I fold my arms across my chest like I can hold myself together that way.
Ella looks down at the counter, tracing a tiny circle in the condensation from a glass of water I didn’t drink. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you think Phoenix needed fifty thousand dollars?”
The question catches me off guard. “What?”
“I mean—realistically. He was one of the highest-paid wide receivers in the league. He’s got endorsement deals, investments, probably a mountain cabin filled with blocks of solid gold. Why would he need a bonus from your parents?”
I falter. “Because... I don’t know. The challenge? Or maybe he was just doing my parents a favor. It doesn’t matter why he agreed to do it. It just matters that he did. ”
She looks at me. “Maybe he agreed before he realized what was really at stake.”
I want to argue. But the more I think about it, the more her words settle deep in my chest like unwelcome truth.
“He still lied,” I say.
“He did.” Ella rests her elbows on the counter and leans in. “And you’re allowed to be mad. But do you think that maybe, just maybe , you shut him out before he could explain?”
I stare at her incredulously. “You’re saying this is my fault?”
“No. But you do have a tendency to shut the door and deadbolt it whenever someone hurts you. I think that may be what you’re doing with Phoenix, too.”
I flinch. “So, what’s wrong with protecting myself?”
“Nothing,” she says. “But there’s a difference between protecting yourself and never letting anyone in.”
I stare at her, silent.
Then she adds softly, “Just... don’t let fear make your decisions for you.”
Her words hit hard. Because deep down, I know she’s right. I’ve been running from my parents’ expectations for years. And when Phoenix walked into my life, part of me thought— maybe . Maybe he saw me for who I was. Not for who they wanted me to be.
But now I don’t know what he saw. Or what was real.
“Even if he really did fall for me,” I say, “it doesn’t change the fact that it started with a lie.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Ella gives my hand a quick squeeze. “But maybe it gives you a reason to ask for the rest of the story. Don’t give up on love, Gigi.”
I stare down at the counter. At the cookies I baked this morning with my jaw clenched and my heart in shambles. And I think about Phoenix—his face when I told him to leave, his voice cracking when he said it was real.
“What do I do?”
“Well, first,” Ella says, standing up, “you call your mom.”
“What?”
“She’s the one who started this mess. Time for you to finish it. Tell her how you feel, Gigi. About the business. About the bakery. About everything.”
I hesitate.
“You don’t have to take the job. But maybe you can stop letting her define you.”
I think about that. About everything I’ve spent my adult life trying to escape.
Maybe it’s time to stop running.
“And after that?” I ask.
Ella gives me a half-smile. “Then you figure out if Phoenix is worth the risk.”
I nod slowly. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” She grabs her bag. “I love you.”
After she’s gone, I stand in the middle of my quiet shop, the scent of vanilla and sugar hanging in the air. Outside, the town is moving on like nothing’s changed.
But I have.
I reach for my phone and scroll until I find Mom’s name. I hesitate. Then I press call.
She answers on the second ring. “Georgina! I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. Have you made your decision?”
“Not yet,” I say. “But I have decided something.”
“Oh?”
“We need to talk. Really talk. About what I want. About what you want. And maybe how we can love each other without trying to change each other.”
There’s a long pause. “All right,” she says. “I’m listening.”
Here goes nothing.