Giving directions like this was easy. It was reflexive. Hope had done it for so long that she didn’t even have to dig to find the teaching bone in her body. They moved through the steps, adding ingredients, mixing them. She gave minor corrections and then they slipped them into the oven to bake.
She seemed far more settled by the time they finished than when she’d started, and Cadence seemed to see that in her as well. She was just about to ask Cadence that, but she paused. Florence stood right behind her, arms crossed and a ticked off look on her face.
Right.
Time to face the music.
Hope gave the order for Chef Rosalie and her staff to clean up and get everything set for the next dish they were going to cook. Meanwhile, Hope stepped around Cadence and nodded at Florence. “Outside?”
Florence said nothing. She followed Hope as they stepped out behind the kitchen and shut the door. Hope purposely turned her microphone off and crossed her arms against the chill and damp air outside. She hated this. Why did they ever have to do this?
“What are you most angry about?” Hope asked tentatively.
“The fact you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.” Florence raised her eyebrows up slightly and then dropped them. “About the threats or about your relationship with Angelica.”
Hope nodded, biting her lip. “Have you talked with her?”
“Briefly, though I didn’t get much information out of her.”
“No, I didn’t think you would.” Hope sighed heavily. She brushed her fingers through the back of her short hair. “Ange and I started a tentative relationship two years ago.”
“When you were still married?” Florence asked.
“Yes,” Hope answered succinctly. “But Rex…” She swallowed the lump in her throat. She thought she’d escaped all of this, the heartache, the confrontation, the accusations. But at every turn it seemed to come back up and haunt her. “Rex knew about it. There wasn’t anything…” she trailed off, not entirely sure how much detail she wanted to go into. Angelica would always say less is more when it comes to these things.
“And Josef knew?”
“No. At least, we didn’t think he did, not with confirmation or proof. Not until…”
“The video,” Florence surmised.
“He first sent it during the break, only to Ange, with some vague threats toward her. Nothing actionable by the police.”
“Of course not. Because why would a woman be taken seriously when she makes a report about harassment and threats?” Florence blew out a huge sigh and rolled her eyes. “I’m afraid I’ll never see a world where equality is more… prominent.”
Hope stilled, not quite sure how to respond to that. Instead, she crossed her arms and held tight. “You know that Josef was fired for harassment on set.”
“Yes.” Florence chuckled slightly. “I’ve heard many rumors about how he runs a show over the years, and I can see with you lot that he lives up to reputation.”
Hope hummed, staring down at her black shoes on the wet asphalt. “What he did to Ange is beyond what he did to anyone else. He has some sort of vendetta against her, and I’m not entirely sure why. It started almost immediately, as soon as we started filming—well, as soon as I was hired anyway.”
Florence furrowed her brow. “Because he suspected you two were in a relationship?”
Hope shook her head, her lips pursed. “I honestly don’t know. Ange didn’t share much from that first year, and only in the second season when she didn’t exactly have a choice.”
“And this video was taken when?”
“New Orleans. Season 1. It was our… first kiss.” Hope sighed heavily, the weight of everything bearing down on her. She could only hope that all this drama around the video wouldn’t ruin that memory for her, not that it was exactly the type of first kiss she dreamed of having with Angelica. But it was what she had.
Florence nodded slowly, looking around. “All right.”
“All right what?” Hope tensed her fingers tightly on her arms.
“Thank you for telling me this.” Florence looked at her directly. “I wish you had both told me sooner so that I could help navigate some of the drama as it comes up?—”
“There isn’t drama.”
“Hope.” Florence frowned. “This is drama.”
