Page 27 of Frosted Fakes

"I see." Gabby's eyes narrowed, moving between them. "And you live…?"

"Uh, here," Elliott said, finally seeming to regain some of her composure. "With Julia. Upstairs."

"How convenient."

The silence that followed was excruciating.

Jamie cleared his throat. "Mrs. Richardson, it's such an honor to meet you. I'm Jamie Spencer, I run the restaurant next door. Would you like a tour of the area? There's a lovely tea room just down the street, and I could show you where the local hidden spots are…"

He was already moving, gently steering Gabby toward the door with the smoothness of someone who'd spent years managing difficult customers. Gabby let herself be steered, but her eyes lingered on Elliott with an expression that promised further interrogation.

"We'll talk more later," she said to Julia. "About everything." Then she turned and appeared to see Jamie’s strong jaw and blue eyes for the first time and a smile spread over her face. "Tell me everything about the town, darling," she drawled.

The door closed behind them.

Julia's knees gave out. She grabbed the counter for support. "I'm so sorry. I panicked. I didn't know what else to say. I just thought if she found out you were living here without her permission, she'd—"

"Get me thrown out." Elliott's voice was unreadable. She set down her shopping bags slowly. "Which she could definitely do."

"Yes." Julia risked a look at her. "I shouldn't have said it. It was stupid and impulsive and now everything's worse—"

"Actually." Elliott held up a hand. "Wait."

Julia waited.

Elliott was quiet for a long moment, her expression thoughtful. Julia watched her process, saw the exact moment something shifted behind her dark eyes.

"Your mother," Elliott said carefully, "is Gabby Richardson."

"Yes?"

"Gabby Richardson. The Gabby Richardson. Three Michelin stars. Six James Beard awards. Author of sixteen cookbooks, including 'The Richardson Kitchen' which is basically the bible of modern British cuisine."

"You’re literally the only person in town that doesn’t know that," Tara said. She rolled her eyes, dropped her mop, and went out to pretend to sort the rubbish.

Julia blinked. "You… know her work?"

"Know her work?" Elliott let out a short laugh. "I learned to bake from her books. Her croissant technique changed my entire approach to laminated doughs." She paused. "I may have watched every episode of her show at least twice."

"Oh." Julia didn't know what to do with this information. Grumpy, antisocial Elliott was a secret Gabby Richardson fangirl. The universe had a strange sense of humor.

"Your mum is the Gabby Richardson," Elliott continued, sounding disbelieving.

"My mother is also your unknowing landlady," Julia said. "I just… I didn’t want to get you thrown out. I just…" She sighed. "I just wasn’t thinking."

"And now I’m your girlfriend."

"A girlfriend with a home," Julia pointed out. She’d done the right thing, after all, hadn’t she? Not the lying, obviously. But the saving part, that part was good.

"Gabby Richardson’s daughter’s girlfriend," Elliott said, like she was trying it out for size. She didn’t exactly sound angry. In fact, she sounded… interested?

Julia's brain caught up slowly. "You want to... keep pretending?"

"I want to make a deal." Elliott crossed her arms, back in familiar territory now. "We've been going about this all wrong. You and me, I mean. This awkward cohabitation, the arguments about the bathroom, all of it. It should have been a business arrangement from the start."

"A business arrangement."

"Exactly." Elliott began to pace, her mind clearly working. "Here's my proposal. I stay in the flat. Your mother thinks we're together, so she doesn't ask questions about the living situation. In exchange, I help with the bakery, actual baking, not just dealing with your smoke alarm disasters. I can do that stuff in my sleep. I'll use the big kitchen downstairs for my cookbook recipes, which is better equipped anyway. You run the business side. Your mother sees a functioning bakery with a competent baker, I get access to a professional kitchen and can keep my home."