Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
She’d beamed, her beautiful pale blue eyes lit with delight. “Absolutely. It’s yours.”
I almost burst into tears, but I had too many customers to see to, to indulge in that reaction. Promising to call her later, I shot my mum a giddy smile. She returned it, but I saw a twinge of sadness in hers. I assumed it was because I’d only just returned home and now, I was moving out. And I was sad to do it. Scared, even. But I was twenty-five and I’d lived in Paris on my own for a few years. It was time.
As the ladies cleaned up, I moved across the floor to lock the door just as Carianne waltzed in. She saw the empty counters and sighed. “Darn. I wanted to take some cakes into the salon. Late start this morning.” She tucked a strand of her own perfectly coiffed hair behind her ear.
In comparison to how well put together my friend looked, I had to be a fright. My nape and forehead were damp with sweat and tendrils of my hair escaping my hair tie stuck to my skin. “Sorry.” I gestured around. “Today we were cleaned out by eleven.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Carianne shot Angie and Cathy a look before lowering her voice. “Do you have a minute?”
“Uh, sure.” I gestured for her to follow me behind the counter and into the kitchen.
Mum and Carianne greeted each other.
“We’re just nipping outside for a minute,” I told Mum before leading my friend out back into our private parking area. There was no one about out here, compared to the busy main street on the opposite side of the building. “What’s up?”
Carianne drew her shoulders back. “I want to keep things open and honest between us … so you should know that I asked Lewis out on a date. And he said yes.”
A sudden bout of nausea overwhelmed me, and I turned, in a panic, afraid I was going to be sick. Leaning on the wall, I swallowed frantically, trying to stop the sensation from turning into reality.
“Oh my God, Callie, are you okay?”
Rage thrummed through me, but I stuffed it down, like I always did. I wasn’t afraid of anger, but I’d always been afraid the rare times in my life when I’d felt hateful anger. Because I didn’t want to be like him. Like my real father.
And right now, I fucking hated Carianne.
And Lewis.
He’d come back for me, my arse! It didn’t take him long to change his mind about that.
I waved off my so-called friend, gulping in a lungful of air. “I’m fine. I … uh … I’ve just been feeling a bit sick lately. Maybe coming down with something.”
“Oh.” Carianne stepped back like I might be contagious. “Okay. Well … are … are we okay?”
Everything that had happened in the last few weeks crashed down on me.
The villagers, people I’d grown up around, talking shit, trying to make me feel bad for going off and experiencing life and the world. Gossiping in front of their kids and saying things they shouldn’t overhear, only for it to be repeated with the sole purpose of tormenting my wee brother.
And me just smiling and bearing it because I wanted everyone to like me, to accept me, to love me.
Look where that had gotten me! Stressed out of my mind trying to make the bakery work, leaving my parents’ house out of necessity rather than want, and agreeing that it would be wrong of me to be pissed off if my friend dated my ex-boyfriend.
I pushed off the wall and glowered at her. “No, Carianne, we’re not okay. Don’t come around me anymore. I don’t want to see you.”
“Callie!” Carianne called after me, audaciously sounding shocked. “Callie, don’t be like that.”
“Fuck you,” I replied without heat. “And fuck Lewis Adair too.”
I let the bakery door slam shut behind me.
Mum gaped, clearly having heard my last words.
I shrugged, like I wasn’t in incredible emotional pain. “Carianne asked Lewis out, and he said yes.”
Anger darkened Mum’s face. “Are you kidding me?”
“Nope.” I tugged hurriedly at the knotted tie on my apron. “Do you mind if I leave early? I could do with a walk.”
“Of course. Can … can I do anything?”
“Nope.”
“Callie—”
“I feel like I can only trust you and Dad right now,” I choked out. “I was supposed to come back here and be happy. Safe and happy. Like always. And right now, I would give anything to be back in Paris. Anything.” Maybe the postcard from Gabriel this morning just made me long for a simpler place. A place where the connections I made had been shallow, easy, uncomplicated. No one had wormed their way into my heart, friends or lovers. Right now, that seemed like the answer. Because if you only cared on a superficial level, no one could hurt you.