Page 45 of Frosted Fakes

"Not like we are," Julia said, then regretted saying it.

"Right. Not like we are." Elliott turned back toward the kitchen. "I've got dough rising."

The door swung shut behind her.

Julia stood frozen, alone in the empty shop, and felt something crack inside her chest.

THAT EVENING SHE lay on the couch and could hear Elliott working in the kitchen below her. She wished that she knew how to fix things. She wished that she knew just what exactly she’d done wrong. One minute they’d shared something. Something warm and tingling that made Julia’s stomach turn somersaults and her fingers and toes feel funny. The next minute they were back to the beginning again.

She’d been clumsy, but that was all, wasn’t it?

She pulled out her phone and opened her nursing education app. The familiar interface greeted her like an old friend. New video available: "Hygiene Protocols in Emergency Settings." She pressed play, letting the instructor's calm voice wash over her.

In emergency situations, rapid assessment is crucial. But hygiene must remain a priority...

This. This was what she was supposed to be doing. Not pretending to run a bakery. Not fake-dating a woman who could barely stand to look at her. Not disappointing everyone who expected something from her.

She could leave.

The thought crystallized with sudden clarity. She could pack her bags tonight, get in her car, and drive away. Find a nursing program somewhere far from here, far from her mother's expectations, far from the bakery she was failing to run. Start over as someone new. Someone real.

The fantasy was seductive. Julia let herself sink into it, imagining a life where she wore scrubs instead of aprons, where her skills actually mattered, where she wasn't constantly pretending to be someone she wasn't.

But even as she pictured it, something snagged.

Elliott.

The thought of leaving Elliott behind felt wrong in a way Julia couldn't quite articulate. Which was ridiculous, because Elliott clearly hated her. Elliott had been avoiding her for days. Elliott had just agreed with Candice that Julia was a fraud.

And yet.

There had been that moment in the kitchen, before the mixer fell. Elliott's hands guiding hers through the dough, warm and patient. Elliott's breath against her hair. The way Elliott had said "you're getting it" with something almost like pride.

Julia closed her eyes.

It was time to admit it, if only to herself.

She was falling for someone.

For someone who could barely tolerate her existence. Someone who ran hot and cold, who built walls higher than Julia could climb, who looked at her like she was both fascinating and infuriating but mostly infuriating.

Maybe it was appropriate. Her mother didn't particularly like the real Julia either, and Julia loved her anyway. Perhaps Julia was simply drawn to people who found her disappointing. Perhaps that was her type: emotionally unavailable and perpetually dissatisfied.

At least Elliott's coldness meant they weren't touching anymore. Weren't standing too close, hands brushing, electricity crackling between them. That was probably for the best. Whatever Julia was feeling, it was clearly one-sided, and the distance gave her space to get over it.

She should be grateful, really.

She wasn't.

She also couldn’t run away. Apart from anything else, she was fairly sure that the press would find her eventually. Gabby Richardson’s Runaway Daughter, not a headline she wanted to see.

As for Elliott, well, she’d just need to get over it all, wouldn’t she? And maybe there was one thing she could do to help soothe the problem.

She opened her browser and navigated to the kitchen supply website. She found Elliott's mixer model, a professional-grade stand mixer in brushed steel, and added it to her cart. Express delivery. Gift wrapping not necessary.

It wouldn't fix things. She knew that. Elliott's anger clearly went deeper than a broken appliance. But it was something. A gesture. The smallest possible attempt to make things right. Maybe it would be enough to get them through the next couple of weeks.

And then what? The small voice in her head asked her the question. But she wasn’t going to engage. She couldn’t think any further ahead than that. Just… just make everyone happy with her and that would be enough. It was all she wanted.