“It means that the Governor of Texas is dead,” Pop-Pop replied grimly. “And that your father just became a lot more powerful.”
“He’s basically the governor now, isn’t he?” she asked.
“Yes, girl, he is.”
“He can’t have done this. He wouldn’t.” She shook her head. Sure, he’d threatened her and Pop-Pop, and she’d been scared enough to do what he wanted.
But arranging the death of the Governor of Texas . . . there was no way.
Right?
“There’s no proof that this was anything but a heart attack,” Pop-Pop said. “And if there is, then the cops will find it. This is the governor, they’ll be thorough. Your father couldn’t have done this.”
Right. Pop-Pop was right. She just had an overreactive imagination.
That was all.
Seven months later. . .
Austin, Texas
Shit.Shit. Shit.
She was late for dinner. She didn’t know what was going on tonight. But her father wanted her home for whatever dinner he was hosting.
And she lived to obey.
Ha.
She did the bare minimum necessary to keep him out of her life. At the moment, they lived two separate lives, barely seeing each other.
And that was the way she liked it. So long as she did the things he wanted, he left her alone.
Which meant that she could build up her secret custom cakes business. She’d started to gather quite the following on social media. Things were really starting to take off for her.
Soon she’d have enough money to get free of her father.
She rushed out of the bakery, waving at Wilma as she left.
“Good luck!” Wilma called out.
“Thanks.” She was going to need it. Since her father had taken over as Acting Governor, she’d seen a lot less of him.
Thankfully.
It meant that she could spend more time at Café Comma, creating cakes and cupcakes. Mostly, she did it after the café closed because then she could create her videos without any interruptions or noise. She never showed her face, she didn’t want anyone recognizing her.
The only people who knew that she made these videos were Pop-Pop and Wilma. Wilma was the daughter of one of Pop-Pop’s old friends. He’d connected them and they’d hit it off. Wilma had been all too happy to let Arabella use her café to bake her cakes.
So far her father had no clue about this arrangement and that’s the way she wanted to keep it until she was ready to move out.
And she knew exactly where she wanted to go.
It would be hard to leave Wilma, but if she could find her own place. . . God, that would be amazing.
She climbed into her car and drove as fast as she dared to the governor’s mansion. Her father insisted that she live there. He’d used the excuse that it was for security. Which seemed insane to her.
She went out and about on her own all the time with no issues. Why couldn’t she live on her own?
