“I admit,” Angela confides with a smile, “the Food Network is a bit of a guilty pleasure. I’m very familiar with Xavier’s reputation. Fran, why didn’t you tell me your daughter is in charge of desserts at a famous restaurant?”
I hesitate. Technically, I’m not in charge yet. And I don’t want to lie. “Well, I’m really an assistant. But a lot of the recipes are mine, and I do most of the work of executing them.”
“Sadie’s up for a big promotion,” my mom says. “So, she’ll be in charge soon.”
My mouth drops open because this might be the first time in decades of Thanksgiving dinners that my mom has volunteered anything about my baking to her friends and colleagues.
“You are?” Owen calls from the other end of the table. “Nice work, Sadie.”
“What’s the new job?” my dad inquires, and his unexpected interest leaves me a little uneasy about this entire conversation. I really shouldn’t have said anything until the offer is official.
“Executive pastry chef,” I mumble.
It all sounds so terribly glamorous.” Angela gives me a wink. “I’ll look out for you to judgeTop Chefsomeday.”
“There might even be a publishing deal for a recipe book,” my mom announces, and truly, who is this woman braggingabout me? If I had the job and book deal in hand, I’d be thrilled by her sudden interest in my career, but instead, my stomach churns.
“Well, it’s not official or anything.”
My dad’s eyebrows raise as he takes it all in. “Keep us updated,” he instructs.
“Yeah. Sure.” Grasping for a subject change, I shamelessly throw my brother under the bus. “So, Owen, how’s Nora? Are you two still dating?”
My mom stops with the coffeepot in hand, her gaze swinging to my brother. “Owen, you have a girlfriend?”
“Who’s Nora?” my dad chimes in.
Owen glares at me over hisTHERE’S NO PLACE LIKE PEMBERLEYcoffee mug. “She’s just a friend.”
“Friend withbenefits,” I mouth at him across the table. Out loud, I say, “She’s super pretty and really, really into Owen. Andsonice, too.”
“Shutup,” Owen mouths back.
Most mothers would be happy to hear that their thirty-year-old son has met a nice girl, but not mine. No woman will ever be good enough for her baby. “Well, don’t let her distract you from your work,” my mom advises.
“But,” I chime in innocently, “isn’t it a thing in your circles that a man with a big pile of money must be looking for a wife… or something like that?”
My mom’s graduate student slaps her hands on the table. “It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife!”
I’ve been around the block enough times to know she’squoting Austen. “See?” I nod and point in agreement. “Owen’s on the marriage track.”
“Are you serious about this girl?” my father asks.
Lucky for my brother, the doorbell rings.
“I’ll get it!” Owen jumps up, intentionally knocking into me as he rounds the table and makes a break for the foyer. “Jacob’s here!” he announces when he returns a minute later.
I sit up straight, and my head swings to the dining room entrance where Jacob is standing. He always stops by on holidays, of course Jacob’s here. And, oh look… Paige came, too. She’s leaning really, really close to him, and… Wow. That doorway is narrower than I remember.
Jacob and Paige move into the room, and my dad pulls up two more chairs. Somehow, Jacob ends up next to me, with Paige across the table.
“Thanks for letting me tag along with Jacob.” Paige smiles at my parents. “He was raving about Sadie’s pies over dinner. I had a chance to try a few of her pastries at Owen’s birthday party, and they were amazing.”
I shoot her a grateful look.
“Where are you from, Paige?” my dad asks.
“I grew up in California and came to the East Coast for grad school a few years ago. I love it, but it’s hard this time of year without any family nearby.” She flashes Jacob a smile. “I appreciate Jacob’s parents welcoming me. And now your family, too.”