Page 110 of Frosted Fakes

The wings of the set were chaos. Crew members hovered uncertainly, production assistants whispered into headsets, and in the center of it all stood Gabby Richardson, magnificent in her fury, facing down her daughter like a hurricane about to make landfall.

"—humiliated me on my own show! Do you have any idea what you've done? Years of building this brand, this reputation, and you waltz in and destroy it in five minutes because you're having some kind of quarter-life crisis—"

"It wasn't a crisis." Julia's voice was shaky but determined. "It was the truth. For the first time in my life, I told you the truth."

"The truth?" Gabby's laugh was sharp enough to cut glass. "The truth is that you've embarrassed this entire family. Wolfgang is probably watching this in Seattle right now, wondering what went wrong with his baby sister. Marcella—"

"I don't care what Wolfgang and Marcella think."

Elliott felt her heart fill so much that it cracked open.

Julia Richardson, chronic people-pleaser, champion apologizer, was standing her ground. Her hands were trembling, Elliott could see that even from here, but her chin was up and her eyes were dry.

She was glorious.

And Elliott was done hiding in the wings.

"She's right."

Both women spun toward her. Julia's face transformed, hope and terror and something that looked suspiciously like joy all fighting in her expression. Gabby's face was harder to read, cycling through surprise, recognition, and then settling into something cold and assessing.

"Elliott." Julia breathed her name like a prayer.

"The baker." Gabby's voice could have frozen the Thames. "The one who did all the work while my daughter took the credit."

"That's not…" Julia started.

"Yes, actually." Elliott walked forward until she was standing beside Julia. Her heart was hammering hard and she wondered if she might be having a heart attack. "I'm the baker. I'm also the girlfriend. Or I was. Or I want to be." She took a breath. "I love your daughter."

Gabby's eyebrows rose. "Do you? How touching."

"I love her," Elliott repeated, and the words came easier the second time, "and not fake. Not for an arrangement or a flat or because it was convenient. I love her because she makes me want to be someone worth loving. She makes me want to be as brave as she is. And she…" Elliott's voice shivered. "She makes me ask for help."

Julia made a small, choked sound beside her.

Elliott turned to face Gabby fully. The woman was watching her with those sharp eyes, the same ones that had made Elliott feel small and inadequate in the bakery all those weeks ago. But Elliott wasn't that person anymore. She was someone who asked for help now. Apparently. Someone who let people in.

God, it was frightening.

"I have a cookbook," Elliott said. "Traditional recipes with modern twists. I've been working on it for over a year, and it's good. I know it's good because I'm good at what I do." She paused. "But I don't have a culinary degree. I don't have connections. I don't have a name that opens doors. What I have is talent and stubbornness and a girlfriend who believes in me."

"You want my help." Gabby's voice was flat.

"Yes." The word felt like swallowing glass, but Elliott forced it out. "I need your help. I'm asking for it. Publicly, in front of all these people and cameras and…" she gestured vaguely at the chaos around them "…whatever this is. Because Julia taught me that needing people isn't weakness. And if asking for help is what it takes to build a life with your daughter, then fine. I'm asking."

Gabby stared at her. The silence stretched.

"She wants to be a nurse," Elliott added, because apparently she wasn't done humiliating herself. "Julia. She's wanted it her whole life, and she's going to be brilliant at it. I've seen her in emergencies. She's calm and competent and caring, and I want to help her get there. Whatever it takes."

"Elliott…" Julia might be crying, but Elliott couldn’t afford to look yet. She knew once she did, she wouldn’t be able to tear her eyes away.

"I'm not finished." Elliott kept her eyes on Gabby. "You can hate me if you want. You can refuse to help. But I needed to ask, because that's who I am now. Someone who asks. Someone who admits when she needs someone. And I need your daughter. She's the best thing that ever happened to me, and I nearly threw her away because I was too proud and too scared to admit it."

For a long moment, Gabby Richardson said nothing. Her expression was unreadable, those famous features arranged into something that might have been surprise or might have been the beginning of respect.

"Well," Gabby's voice was strange. Softer than Elliott expected. "That was quite a speech."

"I meant every word."