Ella knew all about Angela’s troubles with her daughter. That topic was the only one that used to bring tears to Angela’s eyes whenever she and Ella talked. In fact, Ella had always wondered if Angela had been so welcoming to Ella because their relationship had, in some way, filled that void. Angela used to say her estrangement from Jules was her one and only regret, and if her act is helping them to get closer, I can see why she’d be reluctant to give it up.
“You aren’t going to tell Jules, are you?” Angela spoke stiffly, but her gaze was pleading.
Ella thought about it for a moment. “For now, I’ll keep my opinion on your fake illness to myself.” It was tempting to use this information as a weapon, but she knew all too well how deeply Angela felt about it. I can’t do that.
“Thank you. It’s none of your business anyway. But in the meantime, what is your business is the fact that you owe me and my family for all the drama you’ve put us through.”
Ella’s mouth fell open. “I owe you? That’s crazy.”
Angela’s gaze was piercing. “I’m not talking about the Book of Cakes. I’m talking about Gray.”
Oh. Ella could tell that, for Angela, that was a much bigger faux pas than the loss of the family recipe book. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
“And I don’t want to talk about the Book of Cakes. I guess that means our conversation is over.” Angela waved toward the still-open window. “You can let yourself out.”
God grant me patience, and if not that, then a glass of whiskey. “Look, I don’t know what you’ve been told, but Gray knew from the first day how things were going to be. He knew I’d be leaving at some point. I didn’t hide that.”
“No, you didn’t. What you did hide was that, before you left, you were going to rip out his heart and stomp on it. That’s how you do things, isn’t it? How many men have you left destroyed in your wake? Five? Ten? More?”
Ella flushed. “I don’t like long-term commitments.”
“You never have. What’s sad is that you don’t even know what you’re missing. I knew I loved John from the first time I saw him, but those feelings were glitter compared to the gold we had once we got to know one another, faults and all.” Angela shook her head, her disapproval evident. “You never stay long enough for anything to grow but crushed hopes.”
Ella’s face couldn’t have gotten hotter. “Maybe I haven’t yet met the right person.”
“How would you know? You run away before you can find out. You waltz through the men you meet, leaving the second you feel something bigger than a flutter. Forget about the feelings of the other person, not that you ever pay attention to that. With you, it’s all Ella, all the time.”
That was harsh and Ella felt the sting of every word. “You don’t know anything about my relationships.”
“Don’t I? You told me quite a bit back when we were friends, before I realized you’d practice your callous, selfish ways on my own grandson.”
Ella winced. When she and Angela had been friends, they’d spent hours together in the kitchen trying various recipes, perfecting certain dishes, sipping wine, and yes, gossiping about their lives. Apparently, Ella had admitted far too much to her friend. It was the wine, Ella decided. She had a bad tendency to say too much after her second glass, and she’d often had more than that.
I shouldn’t have to listen to this. The need to get away from here, far from Angela and this town and Ella’s frosting-rich dreams, was growing by the second. Ella was so restless it was hard to stay in her chair. “I didn’t come here to talk to you about Gray or anyone else. All I want is an acknowledgment that I didn’t steal your family recipe book.”
Angela leaned back, her gaze narrowed thoughtfully. “An acknowledgment. That’s all you want.”
Ella held up her hands. “Just that. Nothing more.”
“I see.” Angela pursed her lips. “If that’s all you want, then maybe we could come to an agreement.”
Relief flooded Ella, but it disappeared when Angela added with a smirk, “But it will cost you.”
Great. Just great. Still, progress was progress. If Ella had to play Angela’s games to be free of her troubling dreams, then she’d do it. “What do you want? More cakes?”
“That would be a nice start.” Angela drummed her fingers where they rested on the top of the cake box. “Did you know this town doesn’t have Uber?”
What? “No. I didn’t know that, but I’m not surprised. What does that have to do with anything?”
“I don’t have my driver’s license anymore, but there are places I’d like to go. A hairdresser, perhaps. Maybe shopping now and then. That’s where you would come in.”
She wants me to… oh no. “You want me to chauffeur you around like I’m an Uber driver.”
Angela nodded smugly.
“Why me? Why don’t you ask—ohhh! You can’t ask your family to drive you around because they think you’re ill. If you went out shopping and having a good time, then they’d know you’ve been lying. So what you really need are secret rides.”
“I prefer the word ‘confidential.’ ” Unrepentant, Angela casually brushed a crumb from her lap. “Let’s say one—no, make it two months of confidential rides and the occasional cake, and I’ll acknowledge whatever you want me to.”
Ella could almost hear Aunt Jo’s glee at the news that Ella might still be in town when the bake-off came around. “I’m not staying here for an entire month.”
Angela raised her eyebrows. “Why not? You have one of those work-from-home jobs, don’t you?”
Ella frowned. “I won’t do it. You want me to drive you all over the place for free—”
“Of course not!” Angela looked offended. “I’ll pay for the gas, and who knows? I might spring for lunch now and then, too. But during these rides, which will be to places of my choosing, you may talk to me as much as you want, and on topics of your choosing, including the Book of Cakes.”
It was a horrible, awful deal, at least for Ella. The urge to leave, to just get up and walk away, grew. She found herself looking at the open window where the summer breeze stirred the curtains and beckoned. Surely the dreams will stop on their own. I just need to give them some time.
Ella was standing before she realized it. “I can’t do this.” She turned on her heel and headed for the open window, her steps quickening the closer she got.
“Run away,” Angela called after her. “That’s what guilty people do when they’ve committed a crime.”
Ella stopped, her hands fisted at her sides. I am not running away! But she knew that if Aunt Jo saw her right now, that’s exactly what she’d say. Darn it! Ella spun on her heel to face Angela. “If I do this—and I’m not saying I will—then after that, we’ll be good?”
Angela shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ll be absolved of your sins—at least for taking the Book of Cakes.”
I hate this. She’s so darn smug. Ella scowled and absently rubbed her elbow where an itch had begun. Her fingers found a smudge of tiny stickiness, the scent of strawberries floating around her like perfume.