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“Yeah, me either.”
“I’m at the bakery right now,” I admitted.
“Is Duke with you?”
“No.”
“Ooh, naughty girl. Let’s hope Slash doesn’t find out and punish you for disobeying him. On second thought, he looks like the type to dish out a good punishment. Daddy Slash!”
“You finished?” I asked in amusement.
“Yes.”
“Good. And I didn’t really mean to come to the bakery by myself. I was driving around and wound up here. Kind of on mental autopilot.”
“What’s got you thinking? Is it the baby?”
I looked down at my belly and smiled. “No. It’s not the baby.”
“Slash?”
“Not him either, actually.”
“Then what?”
“I think—I know this sounds crazy—"
“Crazier than moving in with Daddy Slash after a few weeks of sleeping together?”
“Why are we friends?”
“Because I keep you honest.”
“And humble,” I added dryly.
“You’re already pretty humble. I don’t know how though. You’re a genius, and I’ve heard most chefs have egos.”
“I’m not a chef. Anyway, we’re getting derailed.”
“Right, sorry. I haven’t had a second cup of coffee yet. What were you going to say?”
“I was going to say”—I took a deep breath—“that I think Kurt is trying to sabotage my business.”
Silence fell on the other end of the phone.
“Jazz?” I prodded. “You still there?”
“I’m here. You still have leftover pie?”
“Yes.”
“I’m coming over.”
* * *
“You wear glasses,” I said the moment I opened my door.
Jazz pushed them up her nose. “Yup. I think they make me look smart.”
