Page 22 of Frosted Fakes

Shay's eyebrows rose. "You gave her the couch?"

"She insisted."

"You let her insist?"

"I didn't let her anything. She just… did it." Elliott scowled at her screen. "She's a people-pleaser. It's pathological."

"Uh-huh." Shay was grinning now. "And she's cute?"

"I didn't say she was cute."

"You didn't have to. You've got that look."

"I don't have a look."

"You absolutely have a look. It's the same look you had when we watched that film with Sandra Bullock and you pretended not to fancy her."

"I didn't fancy her."

"You rewound the kiss scene four times."

"I was checking the cinematography."

Shay laughed, bright and delighted. "Right. Sure. The cinematography." She tucked her legs under her. "So what's her name? This annoying, not-at-all-cute person you're definitely not interested in?"

"Julia." Elliott said the name before she could stop herself. It tasted fruity and nice in her mouth. She liked the roundness of it.

"Huh," said Shay. "Nice name. And have I mentioned that she’s cute? Plus, you’re accidentally living together. That's fate. That's the universe saying something."

"The universe is saying my life is a disaster." Elliott closed her laptop. "She can't cook, Shay. At all. She burned bread yesterday. Bread. The woman is a danger to society. She owns a bakery and can’t bake. I cannot overstate just how stupid that is."

"But she's pretty."

"That's not relevant."

"It's always relevant." Shay tilted her head. "When's the last time you were actually interested in someone? Like, properly interested?"

Elliott didn't answer.

"That's what I thought." Shay's voice softened. "El, you can't hide in this flat forever. You can't just… exist alone with your cookbook and your walls and pretend that's enough."

"It is enough."

"Is it?"

Elliott closed her computer. "The cookbook is coming along. I'm about halfway through. The photography's good. The recipes are solid."

"I wasn't asking about the cookbook."

"Well, I'm answering about the cookbook." Elliott crossed her arms. "Once it's done, I'll figure out the next step. Maybe find an agent. Get it published."

"Have you been to see Milly lately?"

The question came out of nowhere and Elliott hated it. She’d been avoiding going to see Milly and she knew exactly why. But Shay didn’t understand the meaning of the word avoid and had about as much tact and diplomacy as a ten-ton bomb. "I've been busy."

"Elliott."

"I've talked to her on the phone."