Page 53 of Last Slice of Pie

Scraping the flour into my hand, I toss it into the sink then place the two pieces of dough in a bowl and take it to the freezer for chilling.

“They are, and I see things are going well for you too.” Through her words, I can tell she’s smiling, but they’re also laced with sarcasm.

“What do you mean?” I walk back to the sink to wash my hands.

“I saw a few pictures of you pop up in different places recently.”

My head lifts and I stare at nothing out the window, my heart rate instantly taking off. I hate having the attention so focused on us, on me. I thought I would be able to handle it, but I’m not so sure anymore. I’ve always been the girl who stood off on the sidelines. I’ve never wanted to play—anything, ever. It’s not who I am, and I would never say this to Bryan, but I can’t wait for the season to be over.

“Really? Like where?” My mind instantly drifts to the worst possible scenario, sleazy tabloids, and my stomach turns as I think about all my clients, customers, and friends around town seeing it. I imagine the headline Jarvie Jinx Strikes Again! accompanied by a picture of a rotting pie.

“Let’s see . . .” she says. “Between the news articles, sports articles, analyst predictions, and my Instagram newsfeed, you’re kind of all over.”

Oh no.

My eyes slide shut and burn with unwanted tears. I can’t help the groan that slips out, and she laughs. I don’t know what she thinks is funny about all of this. Nothing, and I do mean nothing is amusing me right now.

“What are they saying?” I ask her, leaning forward to put my weight against the edge of the counter for support. I’m not super confident I want to hear what she’s about to tell me, and I rub my chest as my heart starts to ache.

“You sure you want to know?” she asks.

No.

In the background I hear her moving through the kitchen and toward her office. The noise dies down and then there’s the soft click of a door closing.

“Yep, give it to me.”

“Your pies are poisoned.”

My jaw and my stomach drop.

“What! Well . . . that’s just mean.” I’m not sure if there’s a more hurtful thing they could say about me. They went for the jugular, went for my livelihood, and they probably knew the damage it was going to cause.

These pies—they are my dream. This is my business, my blood, sweat, and tears, and they are belittling something that means the world to me. They don’t even know me, and yet they have no problem setting into motion something that could potentially be devastating for me.

“I thought so too, but it gives them something to talk about.”

Only, I don’t want to be talked about—at all! I haven’t done anything wrong, and there’s nothing about my pies that’s poisoning anyone. I thought people joking around about the Jarvie jinx was bad enough, but hearing this just adds to my already bruised heart over my finances and makes me feel . . . I don’t know . . . like I’m just a joke.

I’ve always understood that Bryan hates the media. He’s avoided the spotlight because he’s never wanted his career to be picked apart. He’s worked too hard, and that’s how I feel.

At first they all said I was with him to promote my business, and now they’re saying this. I’ve worked hard too, just as hard as others to get where I am, and it feels awful to be belittled so much in front of such a large audience.

“I don’t want to be talked about.” A lump has formed in my throat, and it’s hard to talk over it. I’m certain Meg hears my distress, and I just don’t care. This hurts. I don’t want to be discussed or pitied; I don’t want this.

Poisoned pies.

It’s cruel. So cruel.

“I know, but just think, it’s almost over.” Her tone has softened. She’s trying to get me to focus on the end goal here, pointing out that in a few weeks this will all stop. But will it? And really, all my brain can stick on is the word over.

Over.

In so many ways, this word doesn’t sit right or feel right. Over can be applied to so many different things. I worry my business might be over, I worry I might lose my home, and something I don’t even want to think of for fear of jinxing myself is that Bryan and I might be headed that way too.

Nope, I’m not going to go there.

Letting out a deep breath, I change the subject. “I had to replace my hot water heater today.”