Callie blinked. ‘Okay. But… what about the money?’
Mae shrugged. ‘What about it? I’ve already gotten three and a half grand out of Neil.’
‘You could get more now,’ Callie pressed. ‘He’s on the ropes. And God knows he cheaps out everywhere else. He can afford to be shafted by you.’
‘I don’t care about that,’ Mae lied.
‘Mae, you’re running a small rural bakery during a recession. Of course you care,’ Callie said plainly.
Mae felt heat crawl up her neck. ‘That’s none of your business,’ she snapped, louder than she meant. ‘Just because you’re rich and fancy now doesn’t mean—’
Callie laughed.
Mae stiffened. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘You think I’m rich?’ Callie asked, still laughing.
Mae scowled. ‘You’re rolling in it. Don’t bullshit me.’
The laugh faded, replaced by something brittle. ‘If only. At this point, my “reality career” is three sponsored posts a month and praying no one notices they’re all for dodgy vitamin gummies.’
Mae frowned despite herself. ‘But you’re never off the telly.Second Choice Island, Coupled & Sunburned, Marriage Speedrun…’
Callie raised an eyebrow. ‘You can just reel off my credits?’
Mae cleared her throat. ‘I don’twatchany of it. I just hear about it. Jesus, a few years ago, people wouldn’t shut the fuck up about you at the bakery. I nearly put up a sign banning mention of you.’
Callie laughed. ‘Yeah, well, that was a few years ago.’ Her eyes dropped, not quite meeting Mae’s. ‘Then I just… stopped. Couldn’t get out of bed. Couldn’t deal with people online deciding whether I’d gained weight or lost it or had a nose job or should get one.’ She shrugged, small and helpless. ‘Depression doesn’t look very cute on camera.’
Mae felt her anger drain away, replaced with something messier. ‘I didn’t know.’
‘No one did,’ Callie said quietly. ‘I’ve been trying to claw my way back ever since. This show’s meant to keep me afloat. Otherwise, my landlord starts slipping “friendly reminders” through the door again.’ A humourless smile. ‘I’m always one bad month away from moving back into Mum’s box room and doing cameos for twenty quid.’ She sighed. ‘Not to mention the woman in question always has her hand out.’
Mae’s stomach tightened. ‘You give her money?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Why?’
‘Because she says she needs it.’
‘But she’s got Brian now,’ Mae said. ‘She’s not a single mother anymore.’
Callie snorted softly. ‘She was never really that, was she?’
Mae hated that sympathy crept in anyway. ‘No. I suppose she wasn’t.’
‘She treated me like a spouse,’ Callie said, tired now. ‘Which apparently means I pay alimony.’
Mae muttered, ‘That woman,’ before she could stop herself.
This was the danger zone. Sympathy was a gateway drug that led to warmth. Mae felt sure that Callie would use this opportunity to slide in, be chummy, maybe try to reminisce about the good old days.
But Callie didn’t do that.
‘Anyway,’ Callie said, changing gears completely into something brisker and more businesslike, ‘that’s why I’m telling you, from bitter experience, that you don’t turn down easy money.’
Mae swallowed. ‘I just don’t want them in the bakery again. It’s chaos. They move everything. They get flour everywhere—’
