Page 82 of Craving

The screen informed her that Amelia, Lucy, and Scarlett were awake and demanding answers. She huffed and fired off a quick message to tell them to meet her at the bakery. She grabbed some clothing, got dressed, then went downstairs and prepped the coffee maker so it would be ready for Marlon when he woke.

She jotted down a quick note on the pad of paper near the back door. Gone to the bakery, she wrote. Be back soon.

The night had brought a thick blanket of snow to cover the world. Camilla left footprints down the steps and toward her car. She brushed and scraped the night’s offering off of her car while her engine warmed up. Her breath left puffs of white in front of her face, and then she made her way to the bakery.

The world was still. Camilla was suspended in time, unable to think or process, wondering if today would bring more drama and disasters or if she’d finally be free to live her life how she’d always dreamed. As she pulled into her parking spot at the back of the bakery, she hoped it was the latter.

Was it naive to think her nightmare was really over?

The kitchen was warm and familiar, and Camilla looked around in wonder. Everything was just as she left it, but it felt different. Was this place hers now? Would Frankie come and bother her again?

What would Marlon say to her when he woke up?

Slipping into the dining room, she saw that her friends had already arrived. There was a latte waiting for her at the empty seat at their table, and all three of them turned to beckon her forward.

She slumped into her chair. “What do you want to know?”

A while later, when everyone was caught up on the goings-on at the wedding and at the loan shark’s office, Camilla felt a blast of cold air from the entrance of The Sweetest Thing. She turned her head, and her blood chilled.

Frankie Smith stood in the doorway, with his two trusty henchmen a step behind. One of the goons was carrying a big box.

Anger and fear warred within her, but she lifted her head and met his gaze. “What do you want?”

Smith tossed some papers onto the table next to the door. “Our business is done.”

Camilla’s heart was a jackhammer in her chest. She flicked her gaze to the papers and saw the loan discharge paperwork, signed and dated. She looked at the loan shark. Her eyes narrowed.

A cruel, teasing smile curled Smith's lips. “So suspicious of me, Fox.” He scoffed. “You tell that man of yours if he ever threatens me again, he won’t live until the next morning.”

The henchman with the box stepped forward, dropping the box to the ground. Then the three of them turned as one and began to walk away.

“Did you break my window?” Camilla blurted to the loan shark’s back.

Frankie glanced over his shoulder, an amused glint in his eyes. “And why would I do that?”

“So I wouldn’t be able to pay you back.”

Frankie laughed. “Maybe. Maybe not.” He shrugged. “You got it fixed, didn’t you? Why do you care who broke it?”

“Curiosity,” she replied through clenched teeth.

Another laugh, and Frankie walked away. He stood beside the car door his goon had opened for him, cold air separating the two of them. “Don’t blame me if some dumb kids decide to throw rocks, Ms. Fox.” His lips spread to show glinting teeth. “I’m glad you got it fixed. And your oven too. Nice doing business with you. Oh, and by the way, I gave your father my regards this morning. I expect he’ll have questions for you.”

Then he was in the car and safe from the questions crowding against Camilla’s lips. How did he know about the electrical fault in the oven? She stepped back into the warmth of the bakery and watched the men drive away through the new window.

“He definitely broke your window,” Amelia said, scowling. “And messed with your oven.”

“Bastard,” Lucy spat.

“Good riddance,” Scarlett added.

In their emphatic words, Camilla heard something else—hurt. They were worried about her, and they were hurt that she’d never trusted them enough to rely on them. She turned to face her best friends, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry I never told you about my debts. I was ashamed and afraid that if I let you in, you’d turn your backs on me.”

“Never,” Amelia said, tears in her eyes.

“You’re stuck with us,” Lucy added.

Three sets of arms came around her, and part of the wound in Camilla’s heart scabbed over, beginning to heal.

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