“But I don’t understand. Your baking is amazing. Anyone whose lips have ever touched any of your baked goods agrees.”
I took my plate over to the table in a nook by the window. It was almost cozy if you ignored the other nine seats. It was the smallest table out of the three in the house and overlooked the lake.
“It’s not always about skills.”
But no matter how many times I kept telling myself that, the elimination still stung. Yes, there was definitely relief mixed into my feelings, but being told you weren’t good enough didn’t feel nice in any scenario.
“But you’re also a knockout. Isn’t that what those shows are all about?”
I smiled at her enthusiasm to jump into battle for me. “It’s no big deal. And it means I can come home earlier.”
There was a shriek, and I cringed at the piercing sound. “What time will you be here?”
“I’ll be back in three days.”
The line was silent for a moment, and I checked that the call hadn’t dropped. “Three days? Why? Are you stopping along the way?”
“I’m still in LA.”
“So you’re leaving today?” Suspicion tinged her voice.
“Nope, I’m staying here the whole time.”
“You said you were looking forward to the peace and quiet of Humptulips. Remember, the town you live in? The town that is eagerly awaiting your return?”
“I doubt anyone but you is waiting for me to get back. You’ve been doing a great job with the bakery. A steady supply of coffee and baked goods is all they care about.”
“Not true. People ask how you are every day.”
“That’s because they think I’ve disappeared to go to rehab.” Because apparently that was the only reasonable explanation for why I was gone.
Willa cleared her throat. “Not true. Only some people think that.”
“Betty organized a fundraiser to raise money for my recovery.”
“Once you’re back, you can get her to donate the money to the shelter. I tried talking her out of it, but she kept roping me into helping, so it was safer I stayed away.”
I eyed my sandwich, my stomach growling again. “I need to go, but I’ll call tomorrow. Now that I’m not on a cell phone ban, I can call at a normal hour.”
“Love you, Auntie.”
And with those parting words, she hung up before I chastised her for calling me that. At least she sounded like her cheerful self. Which meant she had no idea what her dad was currently up to. I’d have to bake Jameson an extra-big cake as a thank-you for shielding her.
I texted Grayson, wondering if I should make dinner. I loved to cook but hadn’t many opportunities to in the last couple of years. If anything took over thirty minutes, I rarely made it.
His response came a few minutes later, surprising me. He was terrible at answering his phone, always had been. It used to drive me crazy, and back then we were only friends.
Grayson:Staying in sounds great. Leslie can get whatever ingredients you need.
I still hadn’t metthe housekeeper. She was probably hiding, not in the mood to deal with the girls Grayson brought home.Does he bring a lot of girls home? Has Wynona been here? What if she was here only a few days ago and now I’m here?
Me:Ok.
I was too freakedout to think of a better response. What had I been thinking coming here?
“You must be Rayna,” a short and stocky woman said, cutting off my runaway thoughts. I guessed her to be in her sixties, her gray hair tied up into a severe bun. “I’m Leslie. It’s so nice to meet you. Grayson said you needed things for dinner?”
I got up, holding out my hand. She looked surprised at the gesture but took it after her initial hesitation. “Hi. Yes, that would be great if you could help me. I mean, if it’s okay that I’ll cook dinner. I understand if you’ve already planned something.”
