Page 103 of Talk Wicked to Me

“She’s always here. They both are.”

He embraced her, and there in his arms, surrounded by her parents’ most treasured belongings, she felt the pieces of her fractured heart coming back together.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“ARE YOU READY for Sunday’s bake-off?” Emerson asked Elliott as he opened the café door so she could wheel the stroller out Friday afternoon. She and Baz were spending a lazy day together tomorrow, since they both had plans for Sunday. Baz was going on a club ride Sunday at ten, and she was getting together with Ginger to talk about what it really took to run a business and to figure out a plan for getting her kitchen ready for the permitting process. Ginger had offered to watch Brennan during the bake-off, and then she and Baz were having dinner with his parents.

“I was born ready. May the best baker win.”

“Elliott, it’s not a competition.”

“Okay,” he said with a tone that translated to, If that’s what you have to tell yourself, and winked. He leaned down and patted Brennan’s belly. “Bye, Brennan.”

“Bye, El. Have a good weekend,” she said, and headed out to her car. She settled Brennan into his car seat, smooching his cheeks to see that heart-rending smile. “Love you, Little B.”

Her phone buzzed with a text as she slid into the driver’s seat.

Baz: Hey, beautiful. How’s your afternoon? Almost done for the day?

Emerson: I’m leaving now. Why? Do you need something? I’m stopping at the grocery store on the way home to pick up a few things.

She started the car, and his response popped up.

Baz: B’s had a busy day, and I’m sure Ollie is anxious to see you. Text me a list. I’ll pick up the groceries.

Emerson: Are you sure?

Baz: Yes. I’ve got to run. I’ve got a client. See you soon.

Baz: I mean tonight.

She sent a heart emoji and quickly sent a short list for the grocery store.

It wasn’t until she was turning down her street that she realized Baz hadn’t told her why he’d texted. She didn’t have time to overthink it, because Madigan’s pink Vespa was parked in her driveway, and Madigan was sitting on the front steps.

As she parked, Emerson tried to remember if she’d forgotten they’d made plans, but she came up empty.

Madigan popped to her feet in a cute black miniskirt and gray tank top and waved as she ran over to her car, her mahogany hair bouncing over her shoulders. She looked like she was about to burst out of her skin. “Leave your car running and grab your house key,” she said through the open window.

“Why?” Emerson asked.

Madigan made a hurry-up motion with her hands. “Just do it, and get out here.”

“What’s going on?” Emerson climbed out of her car, and Madigan hugged her.

“I’m kidnapping you and Brennan.”

“Kidnapping us?”

“Yes! Don’t ask questions. I’ll stay here with Brennan. You go let Ollie out to pee, then grab a bottle for Brennan and that little cooler thing you carry it in, and get your butt back here.”

“But—”

“No buts, unless it’s your butt hurrying.” Madigan turned her by the shoulders and gave her a nudge toward the house. “Go, go, go!”

THEY TOOK EMERSON’S car, and Madigan directed her to a salon, where Emerson spent the next hour and a half getting her hair, nails, and makeup done. She begged Madigan to tell her what was going on, and she asked if Baz had sent her, but apparently secret keeping ran in the family, because she gave up nothing.

When they finished primping her, Emerson couldn’t believe how pretty she looked. Her hair was full and shiny, her French manicure was elegant, and her perfectly applied makeup made her feel like a princess. But that wasn’t what had her captivated by her reflection. She looked so much like her mother, she felt even prettier. “Wow. I’ve never looked this good.”