“You think this ispersonalbusiness? You’ve been telling people the Jingle Bites Café is yourpersonalbusiness? You would be nothing without me. You’re so stupid and lazy and uncreative, you never could have come up with any of these new Christmas treats without me. And instead of giving me full ownership of the bakery like you promised, you’re trying to steal it from me!”
“That was never the deal…”
“It should have been.” Her face is red with anger. “You did nothing to build this bakery.”
“Are you kidding me?” I holler at her, falling for the argument trap. “You would half-ass ideas that I then had to find a way to make work and taste good because you went around town telling people we were going to have maple reindeer doughnuts, even though we don’t have a doughnut fryer, so I had to buy it on credit. There are a thousand things like that, and now all of my money is sunk into this godforsaken bakery.”
“No, you didn’t,” she says automatically.
“Yes, I did. I literally have bank statements.”
“So now you’re accusing me of stealing money?” Her tone immediately changes, and her eyes start watering.
Crocodile tears.
“Willow is calling me a thief, Hughes.”
Fedora gives her a sympathetic look.
Idiot.
“This conversation doesn’t feel safe,” she says, chin wobbling.
“You started this fight.” My teeth grind. “You came over here, while I’m trying to sell Christmas candy to keep this business afloat, literally just to start an argument.”
“She’s gaslighting me!” Taylor Grace turns to Dr. Merriweather. “Do you hear her?”
“Yes,” he says soothingly. “Willow has an anxious attachment style.”
“No, Willow does not,” I snap. “Willow is tired of running this bakery by herself while Taylor Grace gets all the money, does no work, and takes all the credit for it.”
“It’s my bakery,” my ex-best friend sniffles.
“You are emotionally deregulated,” Dr. Merriweather declares, looking down his nose at me.
“Um, Taylor Grace might be paying for you to dish out toxic therapy speak, but I’m not,” I hiss.
“Taylor Grace is trying to speak her truth, and you need to listen.”
“Isn’t that what Tall, Dumb, and Handsome is here for?” I nod to Trench Coat.
“What?” The young guy next to them shakes his head. “I’m not—”
“You’re wearing a fedora. You really complete this little trio of toxic TikTok culture come alive like Frosty the Snowman.”
“Hughes is my private investigator.” Taylor Grace flips her hair. “He’s collecting evidence that proves you have maliciously and willfully tried to steal my bakery.”
“She tried to be nice and work with you,” Fedora says, “but obviously, you want to do this the hard way.” He cracks his knuckles like this is some Martin Scorsese Netflix special.
“What the fuck? I’m in Crazy Town.”
Then Taylor Grace screams like she’s being murdered. “Get that little freak!”
Taylor points at Gideon, who is crouching down in my stall.
“I told you, not here,” Dr. Merriweather hisses at Gideon Cross.
“I’m not here for either of you.” Gideon holds up the end of an extension cord. “Plug this in for the tree.” He sticks it at me.
