Page 120 of Recipe for Rivals

“Yeah.” I closed my eyes and let out a breath.

“He also mentioned he heard you telling someone on the phone that you don’t love cooking at the diner.”

My eyes shot open, heat rising in my cheeks. “Everyone complains about their job.”

“Maybe,” Gigi said, watching me.

“It isn’t the diner I don’t love. It’s that baking is where my heart is, not cooking. They’re different, you know?”

“I do know. I also heard your parents might be coming home early.”

We stared at one another, all the unspoken things floating between us. Possibilities of the kids and me moving back to the city, leaving Texas. “I’m really happy with our arrangement here, Gigi.”

“I’m glad, sugar. I just want you to know I don’t intend on holding you to anything. If you want to go back to New York when your parents move home, I won’t hold it against you. If you choose to stay here and find a different job, that’s okay, too.”

“I’ve decided to stay.”

Her white eyebrows shot up. “Did you tell your parents that?”

“Yes, but they want me to think about it a little longer, so I’ll tell them again in a few days. We miss home a lot, but Arcadia Creek has become a new home for us in the last few months. I’m ready to settle here.”

“Have you considered starting your cookie company again?”

“My quaint cookies?” I joked, seeing Carter’s judgmental sneer edge into my memory. I immediately banished it, free and clear of his opinion. It was nice and calming to know his opinion didn’t matter anymore. I cleared my mind, bringing my attention back to the matter at hand. “It wasn’t ever a real business. It wouldn’t pay the rent.”

“Maybe not, but alimony should. You could stay part time at the diner to keep our arrangement while you build it up. Test it out and see.” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you prefer waitressing?”

“I like interacting with the customers,” I told her honestly. Itwas part of the reason Arcadia had come to feel like a community so quickly.

“Well, Dal and Bonnie aren’t going away anytime soon. We’ll move you to the waitressing rotation part time while you figure out what you want to do. I can get a list of farmers’ markets together if you want to look into booth rentals.”

“Okay,” I said, warming to the idea, but simultaneously stressing about the finances of it. I did have some of Carter’s settlement tucked away in the bank for startup costs, but it was a little hard to believe I could sustain a living on cookies. I would need to think on this. “I’ll look into it. If you’re sure? I don’t want to leave the cooks hanging.”

She chewed on her lip, debating something. “Want the truth?”

“I won’t like it, will I?”

“It’s not charity,” she said in defense. “But I didn’t need a cook. I just wanted you to feel like you were earning your keep. I assumed you’d prefer to stay in the back and not be on display for the entire town, so I had Dal make room for you in the kitchen during the daytime shifts.”

“That was thoughtful, Gigi.” I stood, pulling her in for a hug and trying to suppress the shame of accepting charity. She had done what she’d done out of love. “I don’t know how I would have gotten through any of this without you.”

Gigi blew a little raspberry. “You’re equipped to heal on your own. I just gave you a place to do it.”

I squeezed her again before letting go. “Right. Well. Did I hear you made French toast? Because I could steal a slice.”

She grinned. “Right this way.”

Gigi’s offer tohelp me focus on my baking lit a fire under my determination, and I spent the next few days working thenumbers and figuring out how many cookies I’d need to sell in order to turn a profit. It seemed next to impossible to turn this into a full career, but I was going to give it a chance.

I’d also begun running in the mornings after dropping the kids off at school. It was harder to get back into than I’d remembered, but the fresh air and personal time were doing wonders for my mental health, and I was only three days in.

On Wednesday night, I was getting ready to have Desi and Ashley over to plan the end of season joint football/cheerleader party. I’d made fresh strawberry sauce to put over ice cream and had gotten the kids out of the bath and into their pajamas with twenty minutes to spare.

“Do wehaveto go to sleep?” Alice asked, hugging Peaches to her side. “I want ice cream too.”

“You can have some after school tomorrow. It’s too late for sugar now, or you’ll never go to sleep.”

“Unfair,” Ben said from where he scowled on the top bunk.

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