Page 87 of Frosted Fakes

"Really." There was something in Gabby's tone that Julia couldn't quite identify. Surprise, maybe. Or approval. "Though I should warn you, Julia. Elliott might not appreciate the interference. Pride is a dangerous thing. Especially in people who've had to fight for everything they have."

"I know." Julia did know. She just… she had to do something. She couldn't watch Elliott give up without trying to help. "But she deserves this. And if she's angry with me, I'll deal with it."

"Mmm." Gabby didn't sound convinced. "Well. Send me the manuscript. I'll be in touch."

"Thank you." The words felt inadequate. "Really. Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Gabby said dryly. "Wait until we see if this blows up in your face."

She hung up.

Julia sat in the bathroom for a long time after that, phone clutched in her hand, heart racing. She'd done it. She'd actually done it. For the first time in her life, she'd asked her mother for something. Not for herself, but for someone else. Someone she…

Someone she loved.

The thought settled in her chest like a stone. Not uncomfortable, exactly, but heavy. Significant.

She loved Elliott Sinclair.

She loved her grumpy silences and her sharp edges and the way she made pastry like it was art. She loved how Elliott pretended not to care about anything but really cared about everything. She loved the softness Elliott hid behind all that armor, the vulnerability she only showed in unguarded moments.

Julia was in love with her.

And Elliott was going to be furious when she found out what Julia had done.

But that was fine. Julia could handle furious. She'd been raised by Gabby Richardson, she'd survived worse than one angry baker. And if Elliott's pride was wounded, if she felt like Julia had overstepped, well, Julia would explain. She'd make her understand. This wasn't charity. This was someone finally standing up for Elliott the way Elliott deserved.

This was love.

Even if Elliott didn't see it that way yet.

JULIA WOKE THE next morning to find Elliott already gone. That was the problem with bakers. They started early in the morning. There was a vaguely warm dent in the bed where Elliott had been at some point.

Julia made herself coffee and tried not to think about the phone call. About Gabby reading the manuscript right now, forming opinions, making decisions. About Elliott's face when she found out.

She'd done the right thing. She had. Elliott deserved this chance.

The thought should have been comforting. It wasn't.

Julia was halfway through her second cup when she spotted the figure across the street.

Candice Green was standing in the alley behind the bakery taking pictures, her phone held at an angle in front of her face. Julia was a hundred percent sure she knew what Candice was doing. Her stomach lurched.

Even as she watched, Candice lowered her phone, tucked it into her bag, nodded in satisfaction, and walked away.

Julia's stomach leaped again.

Evidence. Candice was gathering evidence. It was the only explanation. Candice wanted the bakery to close. Without the competition, without Elliott’s beautiful pastries right across the street, Candice would be the only game in town.

Julia set her coffee down with shaking hands.

She wanted to tell Elliott. Warn her. Wanted to think that they'd figure out what to do together. Except... except Elliott was already dealing with enough, wasn’t she? The cookbook, the uncertainty, the stress. Adding Candice to that list felt cruel. And besides, what could they do? Stop baking? Admit everything preemptively? Julia didn't have answers, and she suspected Elliott didn't either.

So she did what she always did when things felt overwhelming.

She opened her laptop and pulled up a nursing video. Something about emergency pediatric care, calm and clinical and completely divorced from the mess of her actual life.

The lecturer's voice was soothing. Professional. The kind of steady competence Julia wished she possessed.